6. Shiloh

Chapter six

Shiloh

I dodge around a corner, clutching a stack of legal briefs to my chest like a shield. It's been days, yet the memory of Liam's nearness lingers, an unwanted ghost trailing my every step.

The air in the office feels thick, charged with an energy I'm trying desperately to ignore. I keep my head down, footsteps silent against the plush carpet as I make my way through the maze of cubicles.

There’s an art to avoiding someone in an open-plan office; it requires knowing their schedule better than your own. And since that moment in Liam's office—the one that left me breathless and confused—I've become an expert at evasion.

"Shiloh," a voice calls from behind me, but I don’t look back. It’s not him. I can tell without seeing; there's no undercurrent of tension, no electric charge that seems to hum in the air when Liam’s around.

"Busy," I call out, quickening my pace. I'm aware it sounds rude, but the alternative—facing anyone right now—is unbearable.

The break room is empty, a small mercy. I take a moment to breathe, closing my eyes and willing my heartbeat to slow. Why is this affecting me so much? It's just Liam, my boss, the man who's supposed to be off-limits in every sense of the word.

But he's also the man who's been occupying my thoughts, day and night, since that encounter. It would be easier if he was just the grumpy billionaire everyone thinks he is.

Instead, he's the man who made me feel like I was worth something, kissed me two years ago… cold on the outside but showing glimpses of something else, something more.

And it terrifies me.

I open my eyes and start sorting the papers again, creating order where there is chaos. Focusing on something mundane is soothing, in a way.

“Shiloh.”

Whoever was talking to me earlier seems to have caught up—and I turn to find that it’s Jackie. She looks down at the mess of papers in front of me, her brow furrowed.

“Shiloh, are you okay?” she asks.

"Um, yeah, I'm just finalizing Liam's itinerary for Atlanta." I gesture toward the papers strewn across the table.

She leans in, eyeing the travel plans. "You've put a lot of work into this."

"Thanks, it—"

"Except, you're going with him," Jackie interrupts gently but firmly.

I blink, feeling the color drain from my face. "What?"

Jackie nods, her eyes meeting mine steadily. "Liam will definitely need your help with the Atlanta case. It's not just about coordinating his schedule; he needs someone there to navigate the complexities, especially since you're already familiar with the file."

"Is that really necessary?" The words stumble out, my voice barely above a whisper. The thought of spending days in close proximity to Liam, dealing with whatever this is between us, makes panic flutter in my chest.

"Absolutely," she reassures me, her tone leaving no room for argument. "He can be... difficult. But you're more than capable of handling it."

‘Difficult’ is one way to describe Liam—complex would be another. And yet, despite the turmoil he's causing inside me, I find myself nodding. Maybe this trip is exactly what I need to figure out why he gets under my skin the way he does.

Or maybe it's a terrible idea. Only time will tell.

"Okay, I'll adjust the bookings," I say, hiding the tremor in my voice behind a mask of professionalism.

"Shiloh," Jackie's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize she's been studying me with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong? You seem off…?"

"Nothing." The word is barely audible, even to my own ears, and I can feel the heat creeping up my neck as I avert my eyes from her probing gaze.

Jackie is silent for a moment, and when I dare look up, there's a knowing softness in her expression. "You don't have to talk about it now if you're not ready. But how about we hit happy hour downstairs after work? Venting over a glass of wine might help—I know working with Liam can be intense."

My heart skips—I mean, not literally, because that would probably be concerning—but the idea of talking to someone who gets it is strangely comforting.

"Sure," I agree with a small nod, trying to ignore the way my stomach twists at the thought of sharing even a fraction of what's been haunting me.

"Great!" Jackie beams, and I'm reminded that, beneath that no-nonsense exterior, she's got a warmth that's hard to resist. "It's a date."

I force a smile back at her, but inside, I'm a mess of nerves and conflicting emotions.

One thing's for sure: After today, either Jackie will know everything, or I'll be an Oscar-worthy actress by the time the night is over.

I meet Jackie at Harbor and Vine after work—the wine bar on the first floor of the Aegis building. She’s waiting just inside the door, giving me a kind smile and tilting her head.

"Come on, this way," Jackie murmurs, leading me to one of the secluded booths tucked away in a quiet corner.

As we weave through the crowd, I notice familiar faces from every department—paralegals laughing over shared jokes, assistants comparing notes on their bosses' peculiar habits, secretaries unwinding after a long day, and attorneys debating their cases with the passion of courtroom warriors.

My eyes dart around nervously, half expecting to see him at any moment—the man who's managed to upend my life without even trying. But Jackie seems to understand my sudden tension, her voice low and reassuring.

"Hey, it's Wednesday. Liam goes to visit his mother tonight; he won't be here," she gently reminds me, her words designed to ease my fears.

A wave of relief washes over me, allowing my shoulders to relax as we finally settle into our booth. I sink into the seat, grateful for the plush cushioning and the privacy the high- backed booth provides. Jackie gives me a small nod as if to say, 'You're safe here,' and for the first time all day, I allow myself to believe it might be true.

The waiter is quick to approach, a practiced smile on his face as he offers us the wine list. Jackie waves him off, ordering two glasses of their best red without consulting me.

“I can’t really afford—” I start, but Jackie waves me off.

“I’ve got it,” she says. “I brought you into this role and it seems like it’s taking its toll—so I owe it to you, okay?”

"Thanks," I say, my voice barely above the hum of conversation around us. As the waiter departs, Jackie leans forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze intent and searching.

"Okay, out with it. What happened with Liam?" Her voice is hushed, but there's an edge of concern that cuts through the noise.

I hesitate, cradling the stem of the wine glass that's just been placed in front of me, watching the deep red liquid swirl. There's so much I want to tell her, yet there's this inexplicable desire to protect what happened—or rather, what almost happened—in Liam's office.

"Nothing… nothing happened," I start, my eyes lifting to meet hers before darting away. "I mean, not really."

Jackie isn't buying my response. She already knows me too well, and can read the unspoken tension in my posture, the way I'm avoiding her gaze.

But there's one thing I can share, something safe, something true.

"It's just that I know Liam," I confess, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. "From before."

"Before?" Jackie's eyebrows knit together in confusion, then smooth out as she waits for me to continue. There's an openness to her expression, a willingness to listen without judgment. "How do you mean?"

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the secret I've been carrying. The wine in my glass looks like it could be a pool of liquid courage, but I know it's just fermented grapes.

It won't change the facts.

"I dated his brother," I confess, and the words feel like they're dropping stones into the still waters between us. "For about three years."

Jackie blinks, clearly taken aback by this revelation. "You what?"

"His brother," I repeat, finding a strange solace in the confession. "And during that time… Liam kissed me once. At a family gathering."

The silence that follows is heavy, loaded with the echoes of the past. Jackie's mouth forms a small 'o' as she processes what I've told her.

"Shiloh, I had no idea," she finally says, her voice tinged with shock.

I nod, a humorless laugh escaping me. "I didn’t even realize this Liam was that Liam until after I took this job. He and my ex have different last names, and I just assumed, I don’t know. I feel so stupid now."

"Wow." Jackie leans back, absorbing the information. "That’s... complicated."

"Understatement of the year," I say, managing a weak smile. I reach for my glass of wine, taking a sip to moisten my suddenly dry lips. The rich flavor doesn't quite mask the bitter undertones of the situation.

Jackie watches me carefully, her gaze sharpening. "And he's been mean to you? Is that it?"

I nod, swirling the wine in my glass. "Yeah. Pretty mean, and I don't know why. It's like he's got it out for me."

"Maybe you need to be reassigned," Jackie suggests gently. "There are junior attorneys who—"

"No," I cut her off, more forcefully than I intend. My fingers tighten around the stem of the glass. "No, I... I want to stick with Liam."

"You sure?" She looks at me, her expression a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Yeah." I exhale, trying to ease the tension knotted inside me. "I can handle him."

"Okay." Jackie's demeanor softens, the lines around her eyes crinkling with empathy. "You know, Liam is a complex guy. He comes off as cold and cruel, but—" She pauses, searching for the right words. "He's actually extremely kind once you peel back the layers."

" Kind ?" The word feels foreign as it rolls off my tongue.

"Believe it or not," she says with a nod. "Just buried deep under that gruff exterior. I mean—he’s at a weekly dinner with his mother right now, and a guy who visits his mom once a week can’t be all that bad."

I consider the possibility that there's more to Liam than his brusque dismissals and icy glares. Maybe there's a reason he's so guarded, a reason he keeps everyone at arm's length, including me.

Jackie leans in closer, her voice dropping to a hushed tone that's almost conspiratorial.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," she begins, her eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes me sit up straighter. "But I swear you to secrecy, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper back, curiosity piquing.

"Liam has a really bad relationship with his father, stepmom, and half-brother," she confides, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting someone might overhear. "It's a sore subject for him. And well, it's probably why he's been cruel to you. Because of your connection to—what’s his name again?"

“Chris.”

I can see Jackie cringing like I’ve just said a bad word. Honestly, I get that reaction to Chris.

“Yeah—that guy,” Jackie says. “Liam’s dad divorced his mom and married his mistress. I guess it was really rough for Liam growing up—he was only ten at the time.”

My breath catches in my throat. So much of Liam's behavior suddenly clicks into place like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. The harshness, the distance—it's not about me; it's about the ghosts he's wrestling with from his past.

"And he can be exacting," Jackie continues, her gaze returning to mine. "Demanding, precise, and sometimes uncompromising. But once you get the rhythm of the job, Shiloh, you'll be great. Trust me, he doesn't just let anyone stick around. If he didn't see potential in you, you wouldn't be here."

"Really?" There's a spark of hope in my chest at her words.

"Absolutely." She smiles reassuringly. "Just hang in there. You're tougher than you think."

Tougher than I think? Maybe.

Or maybe I'm just stubborn enough to want to prove I can handle whatever Liam throws my way. But Jackie's insider knowledge gives me something new—a context for Liam's iciness that I didn't have before. And with that, the seed of determination takes root.

"Thanks, Jackie," I say, feeling a little more fortified. "For everything."

"Of course," she responds warmly. "That's what friends are for."