Chapter 4My Ex Was My Best Investment

I gave the King what he wanted. I placed the intern right in his shadow.

That evening, when he got home, he pulled me into a hug. "Are you jealous?"

I looked down at the pot of soup I was stirring, shaking my head slowly. "No."

And I meant it. I’d seen this movie before. I knew the ending. But Ewan didn't like my composure. He wanted the fire. He wanted the fight.

"Don't be jealous," he murmured, trying to soothe me. "There’s nothing going on. I just saw potential in her at the branch office and brought her back. You know I have a weakness for talent. Don't make things difficult for her just to spite me, okay?"

I listened to him, and the irony was almost too much to bear. This wasn't a comfort; it was a warning.

But I couldn't blame him for being cautious. I had a history, after all. I’d once made life a living hell for an assistant I thought was crossing the line. I understood his fear.

I turned around, draped my arms around his neck, and kissed the tip of his nose. "I won't. I promise."

Ewan didn't say anything. He just stared at me, a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe—crossing his eyes. I ignored it and smoothed his lapels.

"Dinner’s almost ready. Go wash up."

He didn't move immediately. He stood in the kitchen doorway for a minute or two, watching me with a look of deep suspicion. It was as if he was searching for the "old" me, the one who would have shattered the soup tureen over his head.

When he finally left, I caught my reflection in the dark kitchen window. I was smiling perfectly.

Ewan didn't realize that the bet—the one about when he’d get bored of me—had never actually ended. But this time, I wasn't betting on him failing. I was betting on him staying.

When you can't get love, you might as well get equity.

He kept telling me there was nothing with Penny, but soon he was leaving me behind to take her on trips and to gala dinners. He gave her the best team, personally coached her on her first deals. Anything she wanted, Ewan handed to her on a silver platter. Including a major contract I had spent two weeks of overtime securing.

In his office, Ewan stood with his back to me. "The Henderson account is ready for signing, right?"

"Yes," I said.

"Package the files. Give them to Penny to handle the closing."

"Penny is an assistant," I said, glancing at her. She was standing by his desk, giving me that wide-eyed, "innocent" smile. "Since when do assistants close six-figure deals?"

Ewan still wouldn't look at me. "That’s not your concern. Just get the files to her. Now." He paused, finally turning around. "Jo, you’re a senior lead. Mentoring new talent is part of your—"

I cut him off with a soft nod. "Fine. The files are ready. She can come to my office and pick them up."

Now it was Ewan’s turn to be stunned. He looked at me, searching for the crack in the armor. "Is that it?"

I smiled. "What else would there be?"

He looked away, muttering, "Nothing."

As I left the office, Penny scurried after me. Once we were out of his earshot, she skipped up to walk beside me.

"I’m so sorry, Jo. Truly. Ewan says I need the 'experience,' and he insisted I take this client. I really didn't have a choice." She was practically glowing.

I kept my voice polite. "It’s fine."

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sugary whisper. "You’re actually dying inside, aren't you?"

I stopped walking and looked at her.

The innocence was gone. Her face was twisted into a smirk. "Why do you keep up the act, Jo? Everyone knows how you got to where you are. We’re the same, you and I. But you should probably face facts: you can't compete with me. I’m young. You’re... well, you’re past your expiration date."

If thirty was expired, Ewan belonged in a museum.

I laughed softly. "You’re right. I can't compete with a girl who has to steal her wins because she doesn't have the talent to earn them. Good luck, you useless little brat."

The color drained from her face. When she snatched the files from my hand, the smugness was gone.

I wasn't angry. Stealing a contract is easy. Managing a client like Henderson? That takes actual skill.

Sure enough, forty-eight hours later, the explosion happened. Henderson pulled the account and issued a formal statement: they would never work with Ewan’s firm again.

Penny was hysterical in Ewan’s office. "I... I didn't know he was so sensitive about the materials! I was just trying to save the company money! I didn't think he’d care about a minor substitution... Jo’s files didn't say anything about it!"

She had tried to swap out high-grade raw materials for cheap alternatives to pad the margins. In the world of luxury manufacturing, that’s the ultimate sin. And she had the nerve to call it "saving money."

I watched her cry and had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

"The notes were in the file, Penny," I said calmly. "Page ten, point six. 'Never substitute grade.' Should I have used a highlighter? Or maybe a larger font?"

Penny wailed harder. Youth is a weapon, and tears are its ammunition. Ewan immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from me.

"That’s enough!" he barked. "Snide remarks aren't helping anyone right now!"

He looked at me with a coldness that would have frozen my blood a year ago. "I don't care how you do it, Jo. Fix this. Get Henderson back."

In the old days, I would have thrown my badge at him. Now, I just nodded. "Understood."