“You said no?”
She nodded. “I’m going to say no. It’s past midnight in Paris so I haven’t been able to respond to him today.”
“Why?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Why are you saying no?”
She shot him a look like he was crazy. She’d never been more sure of anything other than this—she wanted to be with this man. “Why?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because I’m in love with you, and you’re here. Your business is here. You work in New York. I might have lost most of my clients, but I’m good at my job. I’ll start over. If he’d made the offer six months ago, I’d have gone in a heartbeat. But everything has changed since I met you. I spent so much of my last decade chasing love with the wrong person. Now I have it with the right person. There are some things worth giving up for love,” she said.
“You’d do that for me? Give up a job like that?”
She nodded.
“But that’s an impossible choice,” he said, hearkening back to their earlier conversation.
She shook her head. “It’s not at all. It’s what I’d do for love.”
He swallowed, and seemed to be processing what she’d just said. “God, I fucking love you, Michelle Milo. More than anything. And I need to go now,” he said, quickly dressing again.
She kissed him goodbye at the door.
“I’ll see you in a couple hours,” she said.
“Yes,” he said, then she swore he added but probably sooner under his breath as he walked down the hall to the elevator. She waved goodbye and watched him go, feeling content with her choices. All of them—even the seemingly impossible ones.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Incandescent
Jack wasn’t worried about Nick’s threats to tarnish his reputation. The man had been unsuccessful in his quest to bully Michelle anymore, so Jack didn’t have any real fear about being labeled as a pedophile or child pornographer. He also had that handy cell phone conversation filed away safely.
Denkler hadn’t pulled out of the race. In fact, Henry’s brother-in-law was well ahead in the polls thanks to the rash of money the Upper East Side had raised for breast cancer research. Jack had a hunch that all the orgasms the residents were now having thanks to the Joy Delivered products in their nightstand drawers had made them happier, and they’d be voting from their “pleasure centers” rather than their fear ones. Maybe from their hearts too. Or so he hoped.
But none of that was front and center as he and Casey sat at the head table of the charity gala at the Waldorf-Astoria. He had one thing on his mind. A choice that was not at all impossible.
“You’re okay with what I’m about to do and say?” Jack asked his sister quietly.
“You big idiot. I couldn’t be happier for you. I’m all set to capture it for posterity,” she said, pointing to her phone.
The woman who ran the charity they were supporting took the stage and introduced herself. After speaking for a few minutes, she gestured to the front of the room. The lights were all on Jack and Casey.
“We are so very grateful for our biggest supporters, Jack and Casey Sullivan at Joy Delivered, who deliver so much joy to so many women,” she said, stopping to hold up a hand. “Can we just have a show of hands? Who here has used a Joy Delivered vibrator?”
Nearly everyone in the room chuckled and nearly all hands rose.
“Are they the best vibrators in the world or what?”
“The best,” someone shouted from the crowd.
“They are,” the woman on stage said. “And we are simply overwhelmed and overjoyed with the money this company has raised for breast cancer research, not only tonight but with its tremendous generosity at Eden. I’d like to invite the CEO of Joy Delivered on stage to say a few words.”
Jack nodded to his sister, who was poised to hit the record button on her phone. When he reached the stage, he said thank you, and took the microphone.
“It’s a pleasure to be here, and an honor to be able to contribute and give back. When my sister and I started this company several years ago, we had a simple mission—bring pleasure to people. Bring happiness to people. Make them feel good. I’ve learned a lot running it. I’ve had some amazing times, and I’d like to think we’ve done some good things, and brought many orgasms to women everywhere. Some men tell me I have the best job in the world. They’re right,” he said, and took a beat to look out at the sea of faces—employees, donors, charity supporters and many more.
The hall was packed with women in evening dresses and men in tuxes, who stood for the same things, who wanted the same things—a world with more pleasure, less pain. The lights in the ballroom were bright, and he took a moment to imprint this scene in his memory, even though his sister was capturing it all on camera. He’d remember the din of the plates being cleared, the sound of footsteps from the waiters circulating, the rustle of fabric as women crossed and uncrossed their legs, waiting for him to say more.