Ms. Chaos Meets Mr. Serious

Jace

The heat in the boardroom was stifling, or maybe it was just the itch of my suit jacket. I’m twenty-nine, I run this company, and yet I still feel like a kid playing dress-up whenever I look at the empty chair where my father used to sit.

I checked my watch. I had a cemetery to visit and a mother to ignore.

The new marketing hires were wrapping up their pitch for a new fragrance line. They were young, eager, and surprisingly good. One of them clicked through a slide showing their target demographic: teenagers and women over forty.

"The data shows women in their prime want to feel noticed," the girl at the podium said, "and teenagers just want to be grown-ups."

I leaned back, my mind drifting. My mother is over forty. These days, the only thing she wants to feel is the cold rim of a glass or the thrill of a losing hand at the casino. Since Dad died, she’s been a ghost haunting bars and gambling dens. My grandfather says to give her time, that she’ll wake up eventually. I’m still waiting for the alarm to go off. I’m tired of coming home to the smell of gin and the sight of her acting like a reckless nineteen-year-old.

"So, what’s the verdict, Mr. Blackwood?"

Elias, the marketing supervisor, was looking at me. The room went silent. Every pair of eyes was pinned to my face, waiting for the king to speak.

I started to open my mouth when my phone vibrated against the mahogany table. The screen lit up: 'Grandpa.'

I stood up, buttoning my blazer. "It’s good. Hand the full compilation to my secretary. I want to study the numbers tonight." I glanced at Winston. "Winston, handle the rest. Meeting adjourned."

I was out the door before they could even pack their laptops. I swiped the screen as I hit the elevator lobby.

"Grandpa? Am I late for lunch?" I asked, my voice softening. He was the only one who could make me drop the CEO act.

"Am I disturbing you, hijo?" his voice crackled over the line, warm and familiar.

"Never. I just wrapped up. I’m heading to the car now."

I walked through the glass lobby doors, the midday sun hitting the pavement in waves. My driver, Dominic, was already holding the car door open a few yards away. I was so focused on the call that I didn't see the blur of movement coming from the side.

CRACK.

The impact jarred my shoulder. My phone flew from my hand, skidding across the concrete with a sickening slide.

"Dammit," I hissed, looking down at the shattered screen. I looked up, eyes narrowed. "Are you going to apologize for hitting me, or are you just going to stand there?"

The girl stood a few feet away, breathless. She wasn't cowering. In fact, she looked like she wanted to hit me again. She actually laughed. It was a sharp, mocking sound.

"Uhm, Haven... I think we should go," her friend whispered, clutching the girl's arm and eyeing me with wide, fearful eyes. Clearly, the friend recognized the face on the Forbes billboards.

The girl, Haven, didn't blink. She looked me up and down like I was something she’d stepped in. "Why? Who is this guy? He looks pretty ordinary to me. Just another suit."

I felt a vein pulse in my neck. I looked at Dominic and jerked my head toward the phone. "Pick it up. Wait for me in the car."

Once he was out of earshot, I took a step toward her. I let the silence hang, using my height to shadow her. "Do you want me to introduce myself? I can make it very easy for you to remember my name."

She didn't flinch. She stepped into my space, the scent of something sweet and defiant hitting me. "Listen, mister. I don't care if you're the president's son or some syndicate boss. You look rich, sure. But we're all the same height when we're buried. Get over yourself."

She turned on her heel and started walking away.

"Wait! Your apology!" I called out, my voice tight with disbelief.

She stopped. She slowly turned around, and for a second, I thought she’d finally realized she was playing with fire. I crossed my arms, waiting for the crawl.

Instead, she shoved her middle finger into the air and stuck her tongue out. "You don't deserve my apology, idiot!"

Before I could react, she and her friend were sprinting down the sidewalk, weaving through the crowd.

"Sir? Your phone." Dominic handed me the device. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, staring at the spot where she’d stood. "Teenagers these days. No respect."

The drive home was quiet, but my mind was spinning. By the time I walked through the front doors of the villa, the smell of home-cooked food was waiting.

"Good afternoon, hijo," Grandpa said, standing in the foyer with a knowing smile.

I walked up to Grandpa and took his hand, pressing it to my forehead. It was a small gesture of respect, the kind that usually made him beam.

"Good afternoon, Grandpa," I said, forcing a smile.

"Let’s eat," he said, patting my shoulder. "I helped out in the kitchen today. There isn't much else for me to do around this big house anyway."

I let out a soft laugh as we walked toward the dining area. He was getting older, his steps a little shorter than they used to be. I pulled out his chair for him and helped him fix his plate before sitting down myself.

"By the way, Grandpa," I said, reaching for my water. "You mentioned you had something important to tell me. What’s on your mind?"

I took a long drink, cooling my throat. Grandpa didn't look up from his food.

"I’m not trying to rush you, Jace," he started, his voice steady. "But I really want to see some great-grandchildren. Ideally, a lot of them."

The water went down the wrong pipe. I choked, my lungs burning as I fought the urge to spray the table. I swallowed hard, gasping for air as I slowly sank back into my chair.

"B-bu..." I stammered.

I set the glass down with a heavy thud, my face heating up. "Where is this coming from? You caught me off guard."

He stayed focused on the meat he was cutting, his movements slow and deliberate. "You know how it is. I’m old. I might be joining your father soon. I just want to hold a baby in my arms before I leave this place."

He looked up then, giving me a small, fragile smile. It gutted me. He knew exactly where to hit.

"Grandpa, stop talking like that," I said, my voice thick. "You’re staying right here. And about the kids... I don't know if I can just make that happen right away."

"Why? No girlfriend? No one you're even looking at?" He popped a piece of steak into his mouth, watching me closely.

I opened my mouth to explain the complicated mess of my dating life, but a voice cut me off from the doorway.

"Jace already has a fiancee, Grandpa. He’s just keeping her a secret."

I whipped my head around. Sebastian, my younger brother, was leaning against the doorframe with a wicked smirk. I shot him a look that should have set him on fire.

"Is that true, hijo?" Grandpa’s eyes lit up. "A fiancee? Why am I the last to know?"

My heart started thumping against my ribs. I had a girlfriend, sure, but the word marriage made her break out in hives. We hadn't even talked about a ring, let alone a wedding. But before I could fix the lie, Jasper decided to jump in.

"Yes, Grandpa," Jasper said, sliding into the seat next to Sebastian. He gave me a look of pure mischief. "He’s just waiting for the perfect time to tell you. Right?"

"Exactly," Sebastian said, sticking his tongue out at me when Grandpa wasn't looking.

Grandpa turned his gaze back to me, waiting. I felt trapped. The silence stretched until it was unbearable.

"A fiancee... yeah," I lied, the words tasting like ash. "Yes, Grandpa. I have one."

Grandpa’s face transformed. He looked genuinely shocked, then thrilled. "Then bring her here. Introduce her to me. You told your siblings but skipped your own grandfather? I was starting to think you were going to grow old alone, Jace."

I pressed my lips together, my pulse racing. "She’s very busy, Grandpa. But I’ll bring her around as soon as she has a free moment."

I grabbed my water again, needing something to do with my hands. Grandpa went back to his meal, satisfied, while my siblings continued to mock me with silent, exaggerated mouthed words across the table.

Sebastian and Jasper. They were my world, but they were also the biggest pains in my ass. They were seniors in college now, and I was the one who had raised them. Our mother had checked out years ago.

When Dad died in that accident, Mom didn't just lose her husband. She lost her mind. She loved him so much that when he was ripped away, she forgot she still had three children who needed her. I was eighteen then. Sebastian was ten. Jasper was eleven.

Back then, we had nothing. Dad had been a call center agent and Mom worked in a spa. We lived in a cramped house with Grandpa Benedict. Life was a constant struggle for air.

I made a promise to my dad's memory that I would get us out of the dirt. I spent my late teens obsessed with business. By the time I graduated, I was working three jobs at once—call center at night, salesman in the morning, fast food in the afternoon. I didn't sleep. I just built.

It took two years to get the company off the ground and another four to turn it into the empire it was now. I gave my family everything we never had.

But I couldn't fix Mom.

It had been years since the accident, but she refused to move on. She was a ghost who only came home to sleep off a hangover or demand more money for her gambling debts. It broke my heart to see her like that, but Grandpa always told me to stay focused on the kids. If she couldn't be the mother they deserved, I had to be the brother, father, and provider all at once.

I looked at my siblings laughing at my expense. I’d lie to Grandpa a thousand times if it kept the peace, but as I sat there, I realized I had no idea how I was going to turn a reluctant girlfriend into a fake fiancee by dinner time.

…

The condensation on my whiskey glass was the only thing colder than my mood. I stared at the amber liquid. Across from me, Killian Beauchamp was already three drinks deep, leaning back with a grin that told me he was enjoying my misery way too much.

"So, what’s the move, Jace?" Killian asked. "Grandpa isn't going to wait forever. Your siblings are already sharking around for that inheritance. You need a wife."

"I don't know," I muttered. The liquor burned my throat, but it didn't numb the headache.

Killian slapped my back, laughing. "Talk to Scarlett again. Maybe she’s changed her mind since lunch."

"I’ve tried a thousand fucking times, Killian. She isn't ready. It’s always the same story." I gripped the glass tighter. Scarlett and I had been together since freshman year of college. I knew the taste of her skin and the sound of her breath, but I didn't know why she looked at a wedding ring like it was a loaded gun. I’d proposed twice. Both times, she’d handed the box back to me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Fine," Killian said, leaning his elbows on the high table. We were tucked near the bar, the neon lights casting sharp blue shadows over his face. "If she won't play the part, find someone who will. Go find a girl. Just for the night. Just to get Grandpa off your back."

I shoved his shoulder, hard. "If you aren't going to help, leave. Before you go home with a black eye."

"Relax. I'm helping." Killian turned around, facing the entrance. "New rule. The next woman who walks through those doors? That’s your fake fiancée. You explain the situation, pay her off, and get your grandfather to stop breathing down your neck."

It was a desperate, stupid plan. But desperation was all I had left. We both turned our heads toward the door.

A woman walked in, short and carrying three bags of takeout.

"Hard pass," Killian muttered, taking a sip of wine.

A few minutes later, a woman with shoulders broader than mine stepped in, looking like she’d just come from a boxing gym.

"Not her. She looks like she’d break your jaw before you got the question out," Killian joked.

I put my head in my hands. This was a mistake. Then, I heard Killian swear under his breath.

"There. Look."

I followed his gaze. A girl with thick glasses and braces was fumbling with her purse by the host stand.

"Damn it, Killian. That’s a nerd. I have a reputation."

"Not her! Look behind her." He grabbed my jaw, physically forcing my head to the right.

My breath hitched.

She was standing there in a dark brown co-ord set, the fabric hugging curves that made the air in the bar feel suddenly thin. Her hair was cut short, framing a face that was sharp, defiant, and hauntingly familiar.

"The one in the brown?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.

Killian let go of me, a predatory smirk on his lips. "That’s the one. Should I go get her number?"

I slapped his hand away, a sudden heat rising in my chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. "Of all the women in this city, you pick her? She slammed into me in front of my building this morning. Didn't even say sorry. She’s a brat. Zero manners."

Killian wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me close. "That’s perfect, Jace. Lower your pride. She’s fit, she’s hot, and she looks like she needs the money. Offer her a deal she can’t refuse."

"I’d rather marry the nerd," I snapped, pouring myself another drink.

Killian stood up. "Fine, I'll go ask the nerd."

"Sit down," I growled, grabbing his arm and yanking him back into his seat. "I was joking."

"Let me handle this," Killian said, his eyes tracking the girl’s table. "Her friend is heading to the restroom. Now’s the chance to talk to the quiet one."

I watched him walk away, feeling like I was watching a train wreck in slow motion. I downed my drink, the ice clinking against my teeth.

A few minutes later, a heavy hand dropped on my shoulder. Killian was beaming. He held out a small, torn piece of paper.

"Mission accomplished," he whispered.

I took the paper. The handwriting was neat, sharp.

'Haven Cross. 09xx xxxx xxx.'

Haven. It was a beautiful name for such an annoying woman. It was a small world, and apparently, it was a cruel one too.

I looked back at her table, but she was already turning away. My mind drifted to Scarlett. I’d dropped her off at her condo earlier, the silence between us heavy. She used secret entrances to see me at the office. She kept our relationship a ghost. Her family knew me, but mine didn't even know she existed.

I loved her, but I was tired of hiding.

Grandpa was fading. Ever since Grandma died, he’d become a shadow, locking himself away and refusing to eat. I’d spent my life being the golden grandson, giving him everything he wanted just to see him smile again. Now, he wanted a wedding.

If Scarlett wouldn't give it to me, Haven Cross would have to.

I looked at the phone number again. She was going to hate this. I already hated it. But as I felt the weight of the paper in my hand, I knew there was no turning back.