Chapter 4: Jackson – The Other Life
1039 Words
I walked away from her, shaking my head, muttering under my breath like an i***t.
What the hell was that?
What started as a casual hello turned into a verbal car crash. I hadn’t done this in… God, years? And it showed. I probably came off like a man teetering on the edge—over smiling, overtalking, overreaching. No wonder her guard shot up like a fortress. She was right to be suspicious.
I jammed my hands into my coat pockets as the icy Seattle air licked at my neck. The coffee hadn’t touched the exhaustion pulsing through my skull. What I needed was a bed—and not just to sleep, but to collapse, shut off, disconnect.
But I never really got that luxury, did I?
By the time I reached my penthouse apartment, I felt the full weight of the double life I’d built—hospital scrubs one minute, tailored suits and boardroom battles the next. The heavy thud of keys hitting my marble desk echoed through the silence like a gunshot. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, glittering like a jewel box. Somewhere out there, people were probably living simpler lives. Not perfect, but less… splintered.
The pile of documents waiting on my desk in my home office mocked me.
I flicked through them. Legal briefings, financial forecasts, acquisition proposals—most of it stamped urgent. I sighed, dragging a palm down my face. There was no time to rest. Not when the company needed decisions. And certainly not when my father’s legacy sat on my shoulders like a millstone.
I hit the quick dial button and then the speaker button on the landline for my PA, and leaned over the desk.
“Natalie, good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Ivory. What can I do for you today?”
Her tone was warm, overly so. She was treading carefully. Always did when I sounded clipped.
“Did you get the Lance Corp summary report from Sonoma that I’ve been asking for all week?”
“Not yet, sir. I received the research and had it couriered through to your apartment first thing this morning. Is it not on your desk?”
“Does anybody in this company actually listen when I speak?”
There was a pause. That wasn’t fair. Not entirely.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ivory, but—”
“Natalie,” I cut her off, already regretting my tone.
“Yes, sir?” Her voice was quieter now, thinner.
She wasn’t the problem. She was just the gatekeeper. But I was too wound up to care.
“Put me through to Barney.”
“Right away, sir.”
I paced toward my bedroom, the echo of my own frustration following me. I sat down at the edge of the bed, yanking off my shoes. The tiny elevator hold music chirped from the phone, aggravating me further. I ended the call and dialed Barney directly.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Was just about to answer the landline,” he said.
“Natalie knows better than to make me wait that long.” My voice was steel. “What’s the deal with Sonoma? Why is there a mountain of paperwork on my desk? I told you I’d be at the hospital covering for the incoming residents all week. I don’t have time to wade through it.”
“You asked for background on Lance Corp,” Barney replied calmly. “That’s what Mitchell compiled.”
“And Benjamin can’t read? Is that it?”
“Well, you didn’t teach him the ABCs,” Barney shot back dryly. “When are you free to go through this?”
“What part of not available did you not understand?” I yanked off my jacket and tossed it onto the bed, loosening the buttons on my cuffs as I sank into the armchair in the corner of the room.
I was fraying at the edges. No sleep, no patience, and now—this woman. This woman who managed to make my heart stutter with nothing but a glance and a flustered curse.
“What crawled up your ass this morning?” Barney snapped. You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company, Jack. These decisions fall on you. When you decided to abandon your post and moonlight as a doctor again, I told you it was too much. You didn’t listen.”
I rubbed the space between my eyebrows, trying to will the pounding tension away.
He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m doing the best I can,” I muttered.
“Well, the best isn’t enough right now. We’ve got a storm coming if we don’t close Lance Corp cleanly. You need to be here. In the flesh. Within the next twenty-four hours.”
My mouth was dry. My brain felt like sludge.
“Fine,” I murmured. “I’ll sleep for a couple of hours and meet you at the office at 2.”
“Finally. And Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“You need a break. After this, I’m enforcing mandatory leave. I don’t care what you do with it. Stay in bed, disappear into the mountains, go to f*****g Fiji. Just do something other than work. You’re starting to sound more like your father. And I mean that as a goddamn warning.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I heard it too.
That hard edge in my voice. That arrogance. That need for control. My father’s DNA was coded into my decisions, even the ones I thought were mine alone.
I leaned back in the armchair, loosening my collar. The city outside buzzed on without me, unaware of my spiral. I thought about Bella again—how soft her voice was, how defensive her eyes turned when I’d misread the line between interest and intrusion. The spark in her, the awkward charm, the quiet wariness… It lingered like a scent on my clothes.
And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t want to be Jackson Ivory, the CEO.
I wanted to be the man who sat beside a girl in a coffee shop and made her laugh.
But first—I had to survive another day in the other life.
- Writer
