Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shauna got her first tattoo at nineteen. It was on the first anniversary of their rescue—though really, it was the fight she’d had with Jackie before the helicopter arrived that stuck with her. She’d been so drunk she still couldn’t remember which shop she’d stumbled into. Two pink poppies, right behind her ear.

For a month afterward, she considered finding another artist and paying them to scribble over it as hard as they could. The one time she actually walked into a shop to ask about it, they told her to leave.

The second came at twenty-two. Not drunk. Not stable either. An invitation had arrived in the mail. She barely skimmed it before shoving it into the garbage disposal. ...cordially invited… Wedding… & Jackie Taylor.

There’d been a note at the bottom. It was the only part she’d actually absorbed.

Shipman,

There are no hard feelings. Don’t feel weird about coming. I’ll make sure to find time to catch up with you.

Love,

Jackie

That last line echoed through her head all the way to the tattoo parlor. The certainty of it. The assumption that Shauna would be there.

But Shauna really showed her. On July 13th, the day of Jackie’s wedding, she sat in a shitty tattoo shop while an artist inked a black open heart onto the inside of her bicep. Same style as the gold necklace that still haunts her dreams.

At twenty-five, she got another. She wasn’t drunk or particularly unstable. She just felt like getting it. A small 96 tucked beneath her hairline on the back of her neck. She’d briefly considered getting 69 instead, putting her own number first, but even she couldn’t risk looking that stupid.

Only afterward did she realize she’d tattooed the year of the crash onto her body too.

Her fourth was at twenty-eight, just last week. Drunk again. Jax, added to the center of the heart. Nothing had caused this one. Sometimes she just drank and did very stupid things—like last night, when she’d swallowed enough rum to forget her own name and ended up in some man’s bed across the city despite having work at 8:30 am.

She scrambles through the doors of Fidelity Magazine, trying not to draw attention to herself. The office is small and not very modernized yet, with files still strewn about, cheap office chairs, and ancient computers. But in a way, it’s home—even if it smells like newspapers, despite them selling magazines.

Her eyes catch on the wall clock that reads 9:17 am, and she walks faster.

“Shipman!” 

Shauna freezes, squeezing her eyes shut. Dani’s dark skin and warm brown eyes catch the light as she gives Shauna a sympathetic glance. Garrett’s shoulder-length blond hair shakes with his laughter. Asshole.

Sighing, Shauna trudges into her editor, Harry’s office and slumps into the seat across from him. 

“You’re late.” The crow’s feet around his eyes deepen with his glare. The overhead lights gleam off the grease in his brown hair.

“Uh…” Shauna tries to come up with an excuse, but it’s hard to think with her lingering hangover. Her shoulders slump. “Yeah.”

“You’re lucky I need someone immediately.” Harry rummages through the folders strewn across his desk. “What did I do with it, dammit?” After another second of searching, he yanks a folder up with a grunt, almost knocking the powered-off computer screen from his desk with his elbow. “Here.” He shoves it at her.

Shauna takes it without batting an eye and leans back in her seat, scanning it. On the inside front cover, there’s a paper clip holding a business card.

Hartman

Assistant Creative Director

Gold Star Media

xxx.xxx.xxxx

Shauna keeps a derisive snort tucked deep inside as she plucks out the card. 

“She was in this year’s Forbes 30 Under 30. Interview her. 800 words,” Harry says. “Get it to me by Friday, or you’re fired.” He gestures toward the door. “Now get out.”

“That’s business. Why am I interviewing her?” Shauna asks, not even looking at the door.

Harry drops his arm, sighing. “Lindsey is out on maternity leave. You are on the thinnest ice possible, so you get to pick up the slack and remind me why I even hired you. The time and address are written inside. Don’t be late for that, too, Shipman.”

Shauna forces back a scowl and gets to her feet. “Of course. I’ll have it done ASAP.” She has to try very hard not to slam the door.

“How’d it go?” Dani asks from the desk beside Shauna’s.

Shauna throws the folder on her desk. “I have to go do an interview for business because Lindsey’s out.”

“Oh,” Garret says, spinning around from his desk across the aisle. “Hartman, right?” He continues at Shauna’s nod. “Lindsey met her at some party they both went to with their husbands. She said Hartman was charming.”

Shauna raises her brow. “Lindsey liked someone?”

“Must be someone special,” Dani says. “Lindsey hates her own mother.”

Shauna smirks. “She’s in marketing. She’s probably just as evil as Lindsey.”

“Aw,” Dani simpers. “I love female friendships.”

Shauna snorts under her breath and skims through the folder. 

Jacqueline Hartman.

Her chest squeezes the way it always does when she sees Jackie’s first name, but she doesn’t linger. Below it is a list of marketing campaigns in which Hartman’s been involved. Shauna’s slightly impressed. She recognizes a lot of these brands.

A sticky note sits at the bottom of the last page. 

An address and 2 pm.

The office of Jacqueline Hartman sits in a high-rise downtown. It has shiny tiled floors in the lobby. A receptionist whose smile turns fake when she tells Shauna she’ll have to verify her identity. And security guards who eye Shauna closely after the receptionist whispers something to them. 

Shauna is considering what other magazine she should apply to when a pretty dark-haired woman in a perfectly fitted pencil skirt and blouse steps in front of her. The woman’s lips purse as she scans Shauna, lingering on her flannel like she wants to burn it, then meets her eyes.

“My name is Isabel Tanaka, and I’m Mrs. Hartman’s executive assistant. I’ll escort you to Mrs. Hartman’s office.”

Shauna tugs her bag over her shoulder as she stands. “Thanks.” 

“Sorry for the delay,” Isabel says, leading her into the elevator. “We just wanted to call your office to confirm. We were expecting Lindsey.”

“‘Course,” Shauna says, leaning on the elevator wall. “I get it.”

Isabel hits the button for a floor high in the building and studies Shauna from the corner of her eye.

Shauna raises her brow.

“Do most journalists dress like they’re going to Starbucks?”

Shauna shrugs, eyeing Isabel’s stiff back and sharp heels. “Do most assistants dress like they get off on being uncomfortable?”

Isabel rolls her eyes, going back to staring at the elevator doors. 

When the elevator finally opens, Shauna’s greeted by a small reception area: a heavy wooden desk, warm, painted walls, and dark furniture that looks deliberately expensive. She doesn’t let the surprise show on her face, but she expected something more modern and obnoxiously sleek.

“Mrs. Hartman’s office is just to the left,” Isabel says.

Shauna stays silent as they cross the reception area toward the closed office door. Isabel knocks and glances at Shauna’s flannel again as if she wants to ask if Shauna would like to change first.

“Come in,” a quiet voice calls out from the other side of the door. 

The office is enormous, with a sturdy coffee table and a leather couch on one end. On the other is a desk that would take at least two large men to lift, with the city shining behind it. Two leather chairs sit in front of the heavy desk. Mrs. Hartman currently has her high-backed executive chair turned around as she searches for something in a cabinet behind her. 

“Mrs. Hartman, the journalist from Fidelity is here.”

“Oh, Lindsey! It’s—” The chair spins before Shauna can parse why the voice sounds so familiar. 

Jackie Taylor freezes, wide-eyed, and like a woman dying of thirst, Shauna drinks her in.

Jackie’s face has filled out in a way that accentuates her features even more than Shauna remembers. She’s pinned up her dirty blonde hair, letting her long neck stretch. The same doe eyes that haunt Shauna’s dreams pierce through her, but now they’re filled with a certainty that makes Shauna want to moan.

Isabel politely clears her throat, breaking Shauna out of her daze.

“Hartman?” Shauna asks, unable to help herself. 

Jackie stares at her for a second too long. “My husband’s.” 

“What’d you marry him so you could have heart in your name?” 

Jackie rolls her eyes, her lips curling up at the edges. “No, that’d be really stupid, Shipman.”

“For money, then?” Shauna asks.

Isabel whips her head toward her.

Jackie’s eyes narrow. “No, Shauna.”

“Storybook romance?” Shauna asks.

Jackie’s jaw tightens. She smiles. It’s fake. “Of course. Why else would I marry?”

“Tax benefits?”

“Hilarious,” Jackie says. She looks at Isabel, whose eyes are flicking between them. “We’re fine, Isa. Thank you.”

Isabel hesitates, giving Jackie a long look that Shauna can’t interpret, then finally leaves. 

Jackie sits in her big, obnoxious fucking chair and gestures toward the much smaller, uncomfortable-looking ones across from it. 

Shauna stays standing. She ignores Jackie’s sigh to examine her office.

On the wall by the door, Jackie’s degree from Rutgers hangs. Shauna has an odd urge to run her fingers over it, like she’d be able to feel what could’ve been.

“So… journalism?” Jackie says. 

“Pretty vague question, Jackie. I guess that’s why I’m the journalist.”

“So far, the only questions you’ve asked me have been incredibly rude,” Jackie says, tone stilted and polite. 

“What made them choose you for 30 Under 30?” 

There are books on Jackie’s back wall that Shauna can’t help but examine. She doubts Jackie has read a single one.

“Aren’t good journalists supposed to research people before interviewing them?”

“I only got this assignment this morning.” Shauna picks out a book on basic psychology, laughing under her breath.

“Where’s Lindsey?” Jackie says, her voice much closer.

Shauna glances over her shoulder at Jackie striding closer before looking away. Any longer and she’d stare.

“Maternity leave.”

Stopping beside her, Jackie takes the book away and puts it back on the shelf. Her brow raises as if daring Shauna to protest. Shauna only stares back, keeping her face carefully neutral. 

Jackie sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Forbes said they chose me for my work on multiple international marketing campaigns.”

“I interviewed the director of the new homeless shelter downtown last week.” 

Instantly, Shauna wants to shove the pathetic sentence back into her mouth. It’d be even worse if Jackie knew the director had asked if Shauna needed some water for her hangover after she had grabbed her head too many times. 

Jackie smiles, her gaze steady, lingering on her in a way that it hadn’t before. “I’ll see if I can find a copy. I’d love to read it.”

Shauna’s stomach does something fluttery that it hasn’t done in a decade. “D-did the campaigns actually increase the company’s profits, or do you just mention them to sound impressive?”

Jackie’s smile falls. “No losses.” She crosses her arms.

“So not all of them had gains?” Shauna asks.

“No loss is a gain,” Jackie says, jaw tight.

“Not if you’re paying for a new marketing campaign,” Shauna says.

Jackie studies her for a beat before turning around and walking over to stand at the front of her desk. “If you’re going to keep being rude, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Shauna,” she says, her tone and demeanor all business now.

Shauna opens her mouth to say something biting—then pauses. She can do this. She will not look like an idiot while Jackie is completely coolheaded. 

After exhaling through her nose, Shauna nods. “Right. Of course. I’m sorry.” She takes the folder from her bag and flips through it for Lindsey’s notes. “I’m sure you’re busy. Let’s finish this quickly.”

Shauna looks back up at Jackie to see she’s staring at her, curiosity shining in her eyes.

“What sets you apart from other marketing professionals?” Shauna asks.

Jackie blinks, gaze shifting back to normal. “Nothing.”

“…Nothing?”

Jackie hums in agreement.

“Don’t you think you should market yourself?” Shauna asks.

“I am.” Jackie bats her eyes. “Research shows humble women come across as more likable—especially attractive ones under 30.”

Shauna snorts. “Should I make that the tagline of the article?”

Jackie leans back on her desk and gives her a long, careful look. “I’d rather you didn’t print it at all.” She says it as if she’s testing Shauna—or goading her.

“Then you should’ve said off-the-record.”

“Off-the-record,” Jackie says calmly.

“Before you said it.”

“I forgot,” Jackie says. “Can you not print it?”

Shauna clenches her jaw. “I’ll think about it.” 

Jackie’s smile is slow. Triumphant. 

They both know Shauna won’t include it.

That night, Shauna steps into her apartment, grinning at the sound of paws scurrying closer. “Hi, Princess,” she says softly. She kneels, running her hand over the back of her large, white Maine Coon cat. “You hungry?” 

Princess meows loudly, sprinting to the kitchen and trailing back and forth where she usually eats. 

“Dumb question. Sorry.”

She fills Princess’s bowl and leaves her alone to check the mail on the couch. As Shauna drops onto a cushion, she snorts at the sound of the cat daintily eating every piece.

Princess always takes forever to finish eating, like she needs to be polite while doing it.

Shauna lies down. She sorts through her mail, dropping the junk to her chest before freezing on a familiar sender. Tearing it open, she flips open the birthday card that falls out, pockets the $20, and throws it and the rest of the mail onto her coffee table.

“My birthday is in March, Dad.”

Before Shauna can wallow, Princess jumps up onto her stomach. Shauna grunts, doubling over. “I told you not to do that, fatass,” she wheezes.

Shauna’s pretty sure Princess glares at her as she settles. Shauna glares back. She has to stretch to reach the remote, but manages to turn the TV on.

She only flips channels for a few moments before pausing, a familiar name popping up on the screen below the picture of an attractive older blonde man with a white-toothed grin. “CEO and philanthropist William Hartman is making headlines again for a record-breaking donation of $9.6 million to the American Red Cross.”

Shauna stiffens. “Maybe it’s a different William Hartman…”

“He and his wife Jacqueline have gained wide recognition for their charity wor—”

Shauna turns the TV off.

Handsome, rich, kind. He’s the perfect fucking guy. Jackie’s living the perfect fucking life. Everything’s perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Shauna exhales harshly, squeezing the edge of the couch.

An urge hits her—to blemish Jackie. Just a speck of dirt, something small enough to prove she isn’t untouchable. To show her she’s Jackie Taylor. Not Jackie Hartman. Not someone who still gets to tell Shauna what to do a decade later.

“Can you say, ‘fuck you, Jackie’?” Shauna asks Princess, rubbing her ear.

Meow.

“Exactly, Princess.” Shauna nods. “Good job.”

It takes a week for Shauna to see Jackie again. It’s hard to miss her, with the way she always needs to make an entrance.

“Who is that?” Dani asks, staring over Shauna’s shoulder.

Shauna glances behind her, then looks forward again. She puts on a disinterested mask over her face as Jackie storms in, fury in her eyes.

“Do you think this is funny, Shauna?” Jackie asks, slamming that week’s magazine issue onto her desk, open to a page near the middle.

‘Can Gold Star Media Deliver What It Promises?’

Shauna picks it up with a smile. “What’s the problem? I didn’t include that off-the-record quote, like you asked.”

Jackie snatches it and starts reading. “‘Jackie Hartman (née Taylor)’—what the hell does my maiden name even have to do with this?” She shakes her head sharply. “‘The Forbes 30 Under 30 recipient will have every company believe she has their business interests at heart, but after our conversation, I could only wonder if sometimes no loss is just a loss.’”

Shauna shrugs. “Seems fine to me.”

“This isn’t what I agreed to, Shauna!”

“You agreed to an interview. I interviewed you. The article is my interpretation of how it went.”

“I should sue you!”

“There’s no libel here!” Shauna says, shooting to her feet. “I’m quoting what you said.”

“You twisted my words!”

The nearby office door slams open, and Harry stomps out, eyes already on Jackie. “Who are you and why are you in here?”

Jackie straightens, stepping toward him with a perfect smile. She sticks her hand out, reaching for his in a way that he can’t avoid before giving it a firm shake. 

“Jackie Hartman,” she says. “I have an issue with the way one of your writers portrayed me in a recent article.”

“Hartman…” Harry’s face tightens as he turns toward Shauna. “Of course it’s you, Shipman,” he snaps. “It’s always fucking you!”

Shauna swallows hard, already rethinking her idea. 

“We have lawyers, Mrs. Hartman. Suing us is a waste of everyone’s time.” He looks at Shauna. “But you can tell me why I shouldn’t fire you for making every day of my life more difficult.”

Jackie’s lips part. She glances at Shauna, who instantly averts her eyes, feeling the need to jump out the window. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary!” Jackie says, stepping in front of Harry with a charming grin. “I was actually hoping for another piece.”

Harry pauses, looking at her strangely. “Another piece?”

“A full profile,” Jackie says. “So I can win some trust back with our partners.”

Harry thinks for a moment, then turns to Garrett. “Numbers?”

Garrett flips through a clipboard frantically. “Uh, the issue featuring Mrs. Hartman saw a 17% increase in sales. We’ve had multiple write-ins asking about her since publication.” He hesitates. “The included photo seems to have gotten people interested.”

Translation: Jackie’s hot, and apparently that’s enough to trick people into thinking this is more than it is.

Harry turns back to Jackie. “Fine. Jeremy!” Jeremy’s head pops up. “It’s yours. Get it to me—”

“I apologize,” Jackie interrupts. “I should’ve clarified.” She glances at Shauna, expression unfathomable. “I’d prefer it if Shauna did the profile.”

Harry gives her a look as if she’s lost it. “She’s the one who caused this in the first place.”

“Who better to clean up the mess?” Jackie says brightly.

He looks between them a few times, then scoffs. “Fine. Try not to screw it up this time, Shauna.”

Shauna stays silent as he marches back into his office. She collapses into her chair, staring moodily down at her desk. When Jackie presses against the side, Shauna doesn’t acknowledge her. 

“You’re welcome,” Jackie says.

“I could’ve handled that fine.” Shauna grabs a spare piece of paper and starts scribbling notes on it. 

“Were you going to handle it before or after getting fired?” Jackie asks.

“Harry wouldn’t actually fire me.” Shauna writes faster, her handwriting growing even sloppier.

“Really?” Jackie asks.

“He says that to her all the time,” Dani says. “We all think he kind of has a soft spot for her.”

Jackie looks at Harry’s office door like she wants to make sure she’s got the right guy. “Okay…” She lightly clears her throat. “Call my office. You can set something up with Isabel so we can get started.” 

“You can’t even schedule a meeting by yourself?” Shauna asks.

“I don’t know my schedule,” Jackie says, short. “Isa does.”

Shauna’s gaze sharpens. “Is it Isa or Isabel?”

“Isabel to you,” Jackie says. “Isa to me.” She adjusts her coat and turns to leave. “Call her soon. I want to get this profile started.”

“I’m sure your business partners will be just as pissy next week as they are now.”

“Yeah.” Jackie’s lips shake before she purses them tightly together. “And so will my boss. Some of us actually care what other people think of us.”

“Don’t worry, Jackie,” Shauna mutters, going back to her notes. “I remember that just fine.”

There’s an odd shift in the air. Like reality suddenly knocking into them. 

Jackie leaves without another word.

Dani glances at the exit that Jackie just marched out of and stares at Shauna’s head. “Do you know each other?”

“No.”

Shauna ignores her dubious look and opens Google on her computer. She types Jackie Taylor, then deletes it and tries again. 

Jackie Hartman. 

Enter.

A few days later, Shauna stands at Isabel’s desk with messy hair and a torn flannel sleeve.

Isabel gives her a judgmental glance as she presses the button on her intercom. “Shauna Shipman is here, Mrs. Hartman.”

“Give me one moment,” Jackie says, distracted.

Shauna turns to sit and wait when Isabel places a comb on the edge of her desk. It’s still in the plastic wrap. Shauna doesn’t reach for it. “What’s this for?” 

“Your hair,” Isabel says, shaking her head as she writes something in a calendar. 

“And why do you have a brand-new comb?”

Isabel looks up with a sigh. “I have many things in my desk for Mrs. Hartman.”

Before she can reconsider, Shauna leans over the high reception counter, eyeing Isabel’s desk drawers. All are shut. “Like what?”

Isabel opens a drawer. Inside are several sealed combs, neatly stacked. “Like combs,” she says, matter-of-fact. 

“Why the hell does she need that many combs?” Shauna asks, frowning.

Isabel pauses, something sharp flickering in her eyes. “Mrs. Hartman is fine. You’d be surprised what other assistants deal with.”

Shauna starts to speak when the door to Jackie’s office opens. Jackie freezes in the doorway, glancing from Shauna to Isabel. Only then does Shauna remember she’s practically trying to climb over the counter. 

She drops to her feet, coughing awkwardly. “Thanks, Isabel.” She raises the comb.

Jackie shoots Isabel a questioning look, but Isabel keeps her head down, hand moving quickly across her paperwork.

Before Jackie can say anything, Shauna shifts sideways, blocking Isabel from view. “I’m already running late because you asked me to wait, Jackie.”

After one last frown in Shauna and Isabel’s direction, Jackie turns into her office and settles into the chair behind her desk

Shauna drops into the one across from her and pulls out a recorder. “Do you mind?”

Jackie barely glances at it. “Yes.”

Shauna almost places it down on the desk before comprehending what Jackie said. “Yes?”

“Yes, I mind.”

The tape recorder digs into Shauna’s palm as she squeezes it. “Why?”

“Because I do,” Jackie says.

Of course she fucking does.

Sighing through her nose, Shauna throws the recorder back into her bag. “Isabel told me you only had about 20 minutes. So for now, I’ll just ask a few basic questions. I’ll need to shadow you at some point to get to…” She pauses before saying ‘get to know you’ and recalibrates. “Get a good read on you. And we’ll need to schedule a longer interview for later.”

“How much longer?” Jackie asks, face shifting with surprise.

“Uh.” Shauna frowns. “I’d clear an afternoon.”

“An afternoon?” Jackie laughs. “I can’t clear an entire afternoon for one interview. That’s ridiculous.”

“This is a profile, Jackie,” Shauna says. “You can’t be in this industry and not at least have some idea what that means.” She shakes her head, writing a note for later. “You’re the one who asked for this.”

“I only asked because—”

Shauna looks up, pencil ready, and Jackie tightens her lips.

After another second of scrutiny, Shauna moves on. “Why does Isabel have so many combs in her desk?”

Jackie blinks slowly. “How could that possibly be relevant?”

“Because it is,” Shauna says, copying Jackie’s superior tone from before. 

“Next question, please.”

Shauna grits her teeth. It’s her interview. Jackie needs to cooperate. “Why marketing?”

“It’s fun and interesting. I like what I do.”

Shauna snorts under her breath and notes that for later. “Do you think your personality lends well to your profession?”

Jackie leans back in her seat, fingers crossed loosely over the desk. “In what way?”

“Do you think the way you’re so image-conscious makes you better at marketing brands?”

“No.”

“Why‘s that?”

Jackie pauses for a moment. “When I’m considering my own image, it’s singular and unchanging—very specific to myself. It’s also only able to affect me.” She shifts in her seat, brow furrowing. “When I’m thinking of brand image, I’m thinking of the brand’s history and identity with consumers, but I also have to consider it on a larger scale. Marketing can hurt the product and the consumer if not done correctly.”

“So you have to think of the psychological side of things?” Shauna asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly.”

“How is that any different from you trying to make yourself seem meeker as ‘an attractive woman under 30?’”

Jackie slowly straightens in her seat. “Me acting a certain way isn’t going to cause global psychological ramifications like an international marketing campaign.”

“True, but you specifically said it would only affect yourself,” Shauna says. “It doesn’t just affect you, though. It affects how people see you and people like you.”

Jackie’s lips part. “Well—um—”

“I also have a follow-up on your explanation of brand image versus self-image. Your answer is almost word-for-word from the branding book that your mentor, the current creative director, Abby Gordon, wrote.” Shauna reaches into her bag and takes out the copy she bought last week. “Do you actually believe what you’re saying, or have you just repeated Abby Gordon enough times that it’s become compulsory?”

A few moments pass in silence as Shauna taps her pencil, watching Jackie closely. 

“I… can you repeat that, please?” Jackie swallows hard, her cheeks flushing bright red.

Shauna has to tamp down a shudder. Controlling the room, the conversation, the person. Something about it keeps her steady in a way that not even her journal could.

But this isn’t the same as usual. Not when it’s Jackie on the other side.

It’s only a few minutes before Jackie’s next meeting that Shauna takes the chance to ask:

“Off-the-record,” Shauna says, not reacting to Jackie’s bewildered glance. “The Forbes article didn’t mention the crash at all. There’s no way they missed that. How did you manage it?”

Jackie’s shoulders curve inward. Her fingers clench tight around a pen. “My charm.”

Shauna doesn’t blink. 

Jackie glances away. “Will pulled some strings and got it taken out. I’m not sure how.”

“He must really love you to do that.” Shauna hopes Jackie can feel her eyes piercing into her skull.

Jackie purses her lips. 

It figures—a husband who’s handsome, rich, kind, and wrapped around Jackie’s finger. Jackie really got everything she had always wanted.

Suddenly, it’s Shauna who can’t meet Jackie’s eyes. The flannel wrapping around her shoulders feels scratchy. Wrong in a way she’s never considered before. Why hadn’t she taken Isabel’s advice and combed her hair?

“Is that why Harry doesn’t fire you?”

Shauna looks up, her cheeks flushing at the open curiosity on Jackie’s face. “What?”

“That was…” Jackie straightens in her seat. “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Oh, um.” Shauna scratches the back of her neck. “I kinda just wanted to write at first, and never talk to anyone, but my professors almost laughed in my face. They all basically beat the shyness out of me. And then I realized I was good at um…”

“Being terrifying?” Jackie asks with a small laugh.

Shauna’s chest twists unpleasantly. She stands, planting her hands on Jackie’s desk, leaning closer with a worried frown. “I didn’t scare you, did I? I can get kinda intense during interviews.” 

Jackie stares.

“Jackie?” Shauna asks.

“I—no—of course not.” Jackie clears her throat. Her hands tremble. When she notices Shauna looking, she pulls them off her desk.

Shauna’s gaze sticks on the red spreading across Jackie’s cheeks. The room seems warmer all of a sudden. 

The door opens. “Mrs. Hartman, I—”

Without straightening, Shauna glances over her shoulder. Isabel stands in the doorway, eyes flicking between them. 

“Right!” Jackie says. She stands up too quickly. Her chair flies back, slamming into the file cabinet.

For a moment, the only sound is the echoing of the metal file cabinet. Then the click of Jackie’s heels rings out as she rounds the desk. She places a hand on Shauna’s lower back, leading her toward the door. Shauna stays silent, the touch feeling familiar even after a decade, but Isabel’s eyes keep darting toward it like she needs to check if it’s real or not. Thankfully, Jackie doesn’t notice, her hand staying in place.

Jackie stops at the door. Gives Shauna one last look, then spins around without saying anything. 

“I’ll send Mr. Deacon in right away,” Isabel says hesitantly.

Jackie nods, gaze trained on some paperwork on her desk. “Schedule…” She sighs. “Schedule another interview with Shauna. An entire afternoon.”

“An entire—” Isabel cuts herself off, clearing her throat. “Of course, I’ll check your schedule. Though I’m… unsure how soon I can fit that in, Mrs. Hartman.”

“I should really do the interview first, but I guess I can make an exception for you, Jax,” Shauna says, her mouth running faster than her brain.

A beat passes. Shauna can feel both of them staring at her.

Fuck.

She turns too quickly, hurrying out of the room. “I’ll figure out the other stuff first until you have time for the interview.”

“You can head in now, Mr. Deacon,” Isabel says, following her out. 

Shauna leans on the reception desk, not looking up as a man heads into Jackie’s office, and Isabel rounds the desk, settling into her seat.

“Mrs. Hartman is… an incredibly private person.” Isabel focuses on her computer, already typing away.

Jackie? Private? She used to tell Shauna what color underwear she wore that day. 

Shauna hopes her dubiousness is clear. 

“Perhaps your view of her is skewed.” Isabel types steadily, the clacks sounding through the room.

“Or she’s changed.”

Isabel pauses. “Maybe.” She types again. “I’m more inclined toward my theory, though.”

Shauna makes a small sound of acknowledgment in her throat, not really caring what Isabel thinks either way. 

“Regardless,” Isabel says, “she hasn’t mentioned her history with you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Isabel gives her a glare. “That was my way of asking.”

There’s no way Isabel knows about the crash if she doesn’t know who Shauna is. Which isn’t surprising; it’s been a decade, and they’re not in small-town Wiskayok anymore. This city is home to millions, making it much easier to get lost. Not to mention the change in Jackie’s last name. 

Shauna ignores the churning in her stomach and looks back at Isabel. “Aren’t you supposed to be loyal to Jackie?”

Every muscle in Isabel’s body tenses. She looks at Shauna as if she had just questioned her entire identity. “Of course I am!” she says. “Mrs. Hartman’s done a lot for me. She never gets upset when I take time off to help my mother. She even paid for my mother’s last stay in the hospital after overhearing me talking to my brother about how expensive it was.”

Shauna gives her a long look, then takes out her notebook and scribbles it down. “Do you have any way I can verify that?”

Seconds pass in silence, then she glances up at Isabel, who looks as if she hopes Shauna disintegrates on the spot.

“You think I’m a liar?” Isabel asks.

Shauna rolls her eyes. “I think I need to do my job.” And she wouldn’t put it past Jackie to get someone to lie to make herself look better. 

Isabel sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Fine, I’ll see if I can find some paperwork with Mrs. Hartman’s name on it.”

“Does Jackie make you call her Mrs. Hartman?” Shauna asks, still scribbling. 

Isabel laughs softly. “The opposite. She’s given up trying to get me to call her Jackie. I told her I’d compromise with Jacqueline, but she seemed to like that even less.”

Shauna’s head whips up. “Don’t call her that,” she snaps. 

Isabel flinches. “I-I—okay. I already said I wasn’t.”

Shauna clenches her jaw as she looks back down. 

Jackie’s mother only called her Jacqueline when she was upset with her—just hearing the name used to make Jackie sick with anxiety.

Shauna glances at her watch and curses. “I have to go, but I’ll call to schedule more for the profile when I can.”

Isabel nods, her eyes searching, but Shauna doesn’t let her find anything. She spins around and escapes into the elevator.

Shauna hurries down the sidewalk, footsteps getting faster at the sight of someone with familiar curly hair sitting at a table out front of a cafe. She hops over the metal railing separating the patio from the sidewalk—ignoring Tai’s groan and the other patron’s stares—and drops into the seat across from Tai.

“How is it that I don’t even live in this city and I’m still here first?” Tai says, nudging Shauna’s iced tea closer to her.

“I got caught up.” She grabs three sugar packets and dumps them into her cup. After taking a sip, she frowns and adds a fourth. 

Tai grimaces at Shauna’s drink. “Caught up at work, right?”

“Yes, Tai,” Shauna says. “At work.” 

“Just making sure after last time.” Tai waves over a nearby waitress. 

“That was important, too!”

“How?” Tai scoffs as the waitress arrives.

“When a girl says you can’t make her come for a fifth time, obviously you’re going to have to stay to prove her wrong.” 

Tai squeezes her eyes shut. 

“I can come back,” the waitress says, her voice unnaturally high. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m ready to order.” Shauna hands the blushing waitress her menu. “Hamburger. No tomato. No lettuce. No onions. Extra extra bacon.”

“A house salad.” Tai frowns at Shauna. “Might as well just give me all the vegetables she’s refusing to eat.”

“Uh, it doesn’t work that way…” Their waitress taps on her order pad. 

“I’m just—” Tai sighs. “Of course. No problem. Just the salad, please.”

After the waitress walks off, Tai gives Shauna a judgmental glance. “You’re an adult and still can’t eat vegetables?”

“I can eat vegetables.” Shauna draws in the condensation on her glass. “I just don’t like eating them with meat. I don’t know.”

“You miss eating unseasoned deer and dirt that badly?”

“No.” Shauna draws a frowny face on her glass. “I miss working with my hands, though. That was…” She adds X’s over the eyes, then shakes her head, wiping them away. “Whatever. I like broccoli.”

Tai gives her a loaded look before seeming to let it go. “Fine. Why were you actually late anyway?”

“Oh, uh.” Shauna hesitates, an odd urge to keep this—keep Jackie to herself. “An interview…”

Tai nods for her to go on.

“With…” Shauna groans. “Fuck it. It’s with Jackie. I’m interviewing Jackie.”

Tai blinks slowly. “Jackie Hartman?”

“Yes, Jackie—wait, why do you know her married name?” Shauna asks, eyes darting over Tai’s face.

“I went to her wedding,” Tai says casually, like she didn’t just admit to something sacrilegious.

“You—what—why?” Shauna sputters, leaning closer.

Tai moves back. “Because I was invited.” She gives her a sympathetic look. “Were you not? I didn’t want to pry when I noticed you weren’t there.”

“Of course I was invited,” Shauna snaps. “I didn’t go because that would be insane.”

Tai’s lips part, then close again with a sigh. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense.”

Shauna nods, glad she understands. She doodles on her glass for a few more seconds, a question on the tip of her tongue. A heart forms under her fingertip before she quickly wipes it away. 

“Do you think I should dress better for interviews?” Shauna blurts.

“I’m not sure,” Tai says, oddly pleased. “What were you wearing before you got here?”

Shauna frowns down at her clothes. “This.”

Tai’s face deadpans. “Then yes.”

“I’ll consider it,” Shauna mutters, picking at her sleeve.

“And these sticky notes?” Shauna asks Jackie a few days later.

There are various old physical presentation boards stored in the room, but she’s currently focusing on a hair dye campaign.

She lifts a sticky note up next to a picture of a brunette woman. Refer to study — DOI: 10.1111/j.1467–9450.2008.00651.x

“What does this mean?” Shauna asks.

Jackie scrambles over, yanking her hand away. “Research!”

“Yeah, I know what a DOI is.” She taps the note with the eraser of her pencil. “More psychology?”

“Marketing is psychology,” Jackie says, tightening her grip. 

Shauna glances down. Only then does she realize Jackie’s still holding her hand. 

Jackie pulls away, stepping further back with crossed arms. Staying quiet, Shauna flexes her fingers as she looks at more presentation ideas, all with Jackie’s handwriting. 

“If I look up the articles on these sticky notes, are they all going to be about how brunettes like buying more things because of, uh, feeling inadequate or something?”

“That’s silly,” Jackie murmurs, sounding distracted as she straightens a crooked poster. “I’ve always preferred brunettes.”

Shauna studies her for a moment, trying to figure out if she’s fucking with her. She’s not.

“Your husband’s blonde, Jackie.”

Jackie falters, her hand falling back to her side. “Right. Well, you don’t choose love. Love chooses you.” 

The words sit in the air for a moment, floating uselessly.

“Which campaign did you steal that slogan from?” Shauna asks.

When Jackie gives her a sidelong stare, Shauna only raises an eyebrow.

Finally, Jackie groans, head falling into her hands. “A jewelry one, I think. I’m not sure they tend to blur together.”

Shauna throws her head back, laughing in that way only Jackie could ever make her do. 

When she settles, she lowers her head and finds Jackie already watching her, eyes soft. Shauna’s heart stumbles, then kicks into a faster rhythm. She wants to stay in this moment a little longer, long enough to forget what Jackie can still do to her.

Fuck that.

“You have a propensity to use marketing language in everyday interactions,” Shauna says. “Is this a personal habit or an industry standard?”

“You have a propensity to sound like you’re writing a term paper anytime you want to shift the conversation,” Jackie says, not missing a beat. “Is this a personal habit or an industry standard?”

“Personal habit.” Shauna scribbles a note for later. “Have you ever similarly copied other marketing campaigns without realizing it?”

“No.” Jackie narrows her eyes. “Do you think you’re so good at interviews because you secretly just like bullying people to feel better?”

Shauna pauses, not having an answer to that. She’s… not sure. Which might even be worse than a yes-or-no. Now she’ll have to wonder. 

“I…” Jackie steps closer, holding her hand out. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

Shauna swallows everything down deep. Just like she did when Jackie upset her in high school. She turns back to the campaign ideas and forces her head to tilt. “How many are here again?”

Jackie stays quiet for a moment, a heaviness still lingering in the air. 

“I’m not sure,” Jackie says quietly. “A dozen at least.”

“Lemme count.” Shauna steps forward. 

She barely looks at Jackie again before leaving that day.

Chapter Text

That night, Shauna stares dead-eyed at a cartoon while Princess naps on her stomach.

“Do you think I’m mean, Princess?” Shauna asks. “Tai just said ‘kinda’ when I called her earlier.”

Princess opens one eye, looking annoyed before going back to sleep. 

“Well, I didn’t use to be mean,” Shauna grumbles. “Jackie was mean. I was nice. …I’m still nice. A mean person wouldn’t love their cat. Or always choose the articles about homeless shelters to make sure no one else fucks up their funding chances.” 

She pauses, frowning at nothing. 

“Fucking Jackie. She’s already in my head again. Maybe I can get a new job and stop doing this profile.” Shauna glances down and slumps further into the couch. “Ugh. No. I need to afford your food, fatty.”

Princess opens her eyes to glare again.

A knock goes out on her door, and she has to unhook at least three of Princess’ claws to get her off.

“One sec!” Shauna hisses at a scratch. “God, why are you so clingy?”

When she’s finally done, she huffs and walks toward the door. Opening it, she leans against the door frame.

Her neighbor, Veronica, smiles widely, brown hair shifting over her shoulders as her head tilts. She’s only a couple of years younger, but she’s always coming by to ask Shauna for help or to ask questions, like her parents sent her into the world a little too early. It gets annoying, but Veronica’s always so sweet and shy about it that Shauna can’t get too upset.

“What’s up, Veronica?” Shauna asks, brushing back the hair falling into her face.

“Um.” Veronica shifts on her feet, her cheeks already red. “Did you have time to help me fix my shower? It’s still leaking, and I-I really wanna get wet tonight.”

Shauna doesn’t blink at the odd phrasing. Veronica’s been a little off since she moved in.

“Uh.” She scratches the back of her neck. “Maybe tomorrow. I’ve had a long day.”

Veronica straightens. “Of course. Rest, Shauna.” She backs up, scrambling back to her apartment. “Sorry for bothering you!”

Shauna walks back into her apartment just as her phone beeps with a text.

Natalie: can I crash @ ur place nxt week

Shauna rolls her eyes. 

Shauna: go to hell

Shauna: sure

Natalie: thx

Natalie crashes now and then when she’s drifting through the city. She’ll probably only be there for a day or two. 

Shauna goes to drop her phone, but changes her mind.

Shauna: do u think im nice?

Natalie: do i have to say yes to stay

Shauna: no

Natalie: nicer than most. meaner than many

Shauna scowls at her phone and picks up Princess on the way to bed. “Bite Natalie for me when she comes to stay.”

Meow.

“She’s in a mood,” Isabel says, not looking up from her computer. 

Shauna leans on the counter. “What—because of me?” She was planning to come here and graciously move on from Jackie being a bitch, but not if she keeps at it.

“No, has been since she got here,” Isabel says. Shauna hopes she can’t hear her sigh of relief. “It’s probably—” Isabel cuts herself off.

“Probably…” Shauna leans closer. Dangling info about Jackie in front of her face and taking it away like that should be considered teasing.

Isabel goes to speak when Jackie’s door opens. “Isabel is Shauna—” Jackie looks up, a small smile coming to her face as she walks closer. She presses low on Shauna’s back, guiding her into her office. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Uh, 2:45. My appointment time.”

Jackie chuckles and leads Shauna to the seat across from hers. As soon as Shauna sits, she grabs a box from her desk. 

“For you.”

She hands it to Shauna before dropping into her desk chair.

“Um. Okay,” Shauna says. 

Opening the box, she stares, her mind needing time to catch up with what she’s seeing. She grabs a few pieces of the candy wrapped inside and brings them close to her face. 

“Saltwater taffy?”

Jackie smiles softly. “We used to love it as kids, remember?” Her smile dims. “Consider it an apology for what I said the other day. It wasn’t fair. We don’t know each other like we used to. I shouldn’t assume that I still know you best.” Jackie crosses her arms, fingers digging in. “Not anymore.”

Shauna stares at her, unsure what to say. It’s so… mature. Shauna doubts she’d be getting taffy from New Jersey as an apology. It’d be nice if she could just escape the guilt after a mistake and be thoughtful instead.

She swallows the feeling, but it doesn’t fully pass; it just sits heavy inside, waiting.

When Jackie’s expression shifts into concern, Shauna forces herself to move on. She grabs a pink strawberry taffy and holds it out. “You want me to separate out all the pink ones for you?”

Jackie takes the strawberry, and their hands brush. They both linger in place, neither starting it—neither ending it. After two beats too long, Jackie drags her hand back, sliding her entire palm against Shauna’s.

“You don’t have to give me all the pink ones, Shipman,” Jackie says quietly.

“What if I want to?”

Jackie’s cheeks flush bright red, and Shauna’s stomach burns. Her gaze catches on the makeup covering Jackie’s freckles, and disappointment hits harder than it should. But still, her eyes trace Jackie’s face over and over again. 

Only when Jackie tilts her head questioningly does Shauna stop staring, her hand tightening around a piece of red taffy as she tells herself to stop being weird.

“I have a few follow-up questions.” Shauna begins sorting out all the pinks for Jackie, feeling 12 again. 

“You don’t want to wait for that big interview?”

“No,” Shauna says. “These are extremely pressing. I need to know them ASAP.”

“Okay…” Jackie says, much more hesitantly.

Shauna holds up a strawberry taffy. “Is your favorite color still pink?”

Jackie’s smile looks shy this time.

A few days later, Shauna holds the phone up to her ear and taps her fingers along her kitchen counter as she waits for the line to connect.

“Hey, Isabel. I need to schedule—”

“Mrs. Hartman has asked me to pass along her personal number,” Isabel says. She barely gives Shauna a moment to find a pen before spouting off Jackie’s cellphone number. “And how many ‘follow-ups’ could you possibly need?”

“Th-this one isn’t a follow-up!” Shauna sputters. “I need to schedule a meeting with her to get her okay on who I can interview.”

Isabel makes a noise in her throat. “Well, Mrs. Hartman says to let her schedule you in personally from now on, so you’ll have to call her.”

“I thought she didn’t know her schedule.”

Isabel laughs. “Mrs. Hartman knows her schedule just fine, especially since she has her own copy.”

Shauna exhales heavily through her nose. “Fine. Thanks. I’ll call her.” She hangs up. 

She swallows, clutching the paper with Jackie’s phone number on it like it’s a lifeline. She always used to get special privileges and access to Jackie. Everyone wanted to be Jackie’s friend, but Jackie only really wanted Shauna. That amount of dependence used to be hard to deal with, but Jackie had given her exactly what Shauna used to wish for—and she loathed it.

Her gaze catches the number again, and everything eases. She dials Jackie’s number quickly, telling herself not to sound too eager.

“Jackie Hartman speaking,” Jackie says, all business.

Shauna can’t help it. Her voice softens. “Hey, Jax.”

It goes quiet, and Shauna wonders if Jackie’s thinking the same thing she is. That it’s like they’re 15 again, hogging the line to call each other and talk for hours about nothing. 

“Hey, Shipman,” Jackie says, just as softly.

Shauna smiles, savoring the sound.

“I need to get your okay on some interviews,” Shauna says. “Do you have time to meet?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jackie pauses. “Would you want to get lunch?”

“Like out?” 

Jackie makes a small noise of agreement.

“Yeah.” Shauna leans her head on a cabinet and hopes she won’t regret this. “You pick. I’ll go wherever you want.”

It goes quiet for so long that Shauna would think the call had failed if she couldn’t hear Jackie’s breathing.

Finally, Jackie says, “How about a compromise?” 

Shauna almost chokes on her own tongue at the word ‘compromise’ coming out of Jackie’s mouth. “Sure.”

“I’ll narrow it down to three restaurants.” Jackie’s voice somehow gets gentler. “And you can have the final pick.”

“…Okay,” Shauna says roughly. “Yeah, just get them over to me with a time, and I’ll let you know.”

“If you can’t make—”

“I’ll make it,” Shauna interrupts. The only way she’d miss it is if she’s dead.

“Alright. And Shauna.” Jackie sighs slowly over the line. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Shauna presses her forehead harder against the cabinet. “Me too,” she says, hanging up before she embarrasses herself.

She’s getting lunch. With Jackie. 

She grins.

The back of Shauna’s closet held two things:

Dust and her nicest jacket—denim with a fleece lining. She has approximately four flannels without holes or fading. Two dark jeans and one pair of boots that aren’t scuffed.

She doesn’t wear any of that because she’s not doing it. It’ll be obvious, and she’ll look stupid. And she’s not. 

What she does do, though, is spend extra time brushing her hair. Eyeliner and mascara come next, because she remembers how her eyes used to make even Jackie melt if she caught her off guard. She compromises on the flannel—faded but without holes. Could easily afford more, but she likes these. They’re soft and old, and… she likes them.

When Shauna walks into the Italian restaurant that she got to choose, she spots Jackie easily. It’s not very busy, and she swears Jackie glows. She’s still in her clothes from the office—a white blouse, black skirt, heels. But there’s something different about seeing her outside of the Gold Star building.

When Jackie catches sight of her, she stands. Shauna’s brain short-circuits; her cheeks catch fire. As she walks toward their table, Jackie’s gaze tracks over her, eyes growing brighter by the second. She sits only when Shauna does. 

“You combed your hair?” Jackie says, then glances down, smile turning sly. “And did you wear a flannel without holes just for me?”

“Um, no,” Shauna mutters, avoiding her eyes. “The restaurant seemed nice. I don’t know.”

“I got you iced tea,” Jackie says absently as a waiter places a glass on the table. “I used to love dressing you up for parties.” She giggles.

Shauna stares at the drink, not making a move to pick it up.

“Your face would always get all adorable and scrunched up, but you usually listened in the end.” Jackie’s eyes glaze over, her head traveling to high school. “I swear you thought I was torturing you, but I just… always wanted to make sure you looked as pretty as possible.”

Shauna goes to speak, but Jackie must really need to say this, as she doesn’t even seem to notice. 

“You know, I’d always get jealous that some people would look at you more than me after I dressed you up—but I guess I couldn’t blame them. You always had this… shadow around you, and on most people that’d be a bad thing, but on you it just made people curious, I think. They really wanted to see what was going on in there.” She pauses, tone turning melancholy. “I always used to feel so proud that I was the only one who really knew.”

Shauna’s mouth is so dry that she doesn’t even dump sugar in the glass before gulping her iced tea. “I-I—you—uh.” She takes a deep breath. “You were jealous? O-of me?”

Jackie tips her head to the side, smile soft enough to hurt. “Of course. My best friend was funny, smart, and beautiful—what’s not to be jealous of?”

“Even now, you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen.” Shauna laughs thinly. “So I guess that’s just crazy to me.”

Jackie doesn’t reply. She only stares in a way that seems thoughtless. There’s no aim to it, or reason. It’s just drifting, like she can’t help herself but look.

It’s hard to breathe under her gaze. Shauna looks down at her plate, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. 

Jackie clears her throat, grabbing her menu. “Do you know what you want to eat?” 

“You,” Shauna breathes. Jackie’s brow raises, her cheeks turning pink. “I-I mean no, do you?”

Jackie hesitates for a beat too long before looking away, eyes glued to her menu. “I’m thinking the chicken piccata.”

“Sounds good,” she mumbles, wanting to sink into a hole. 

A few days later, Shauna’s reading a book in her room on her day off when Natalie walks in.

“Box for you. It was left at the door.” Natalie drops it on her bed before trudging out the door again. She doesn’t even acknowledge Princess’ hissing. 

“Don’t worry.” Shauna scratches the cat’s head. “Mean old Natalie is gone.”

“I can hear you,” Natalie calls from the living room.

“That’s nice.” 

Shauna leans forward, scanning the writing on the box. Nothing useful. She glances at Princess and shrugs—she’s pretty sure she’s not important enough for someone to kill this way.

Inside the box is another box, but this one she recognizes. It’s for clothes. She frowns, more hesitant at that than the thought of a bomb, and flips the white lid off.

Flannels. Three of them. All of them are of much better quality than she has now.

Her throat dries. It’s not hard to guess who sent these. She picks up the piece of paper lying inside.

Shipman,

I can’t stand seeing the holes anymore.

There’s a word scratched out with harsh strokes of a pen. 

Below that reads:

Jackie

Shauna stares at the crossed-out word. Even 28-year-old Jackie is particular enough to get a new piece of paper after making a mistake.

But she didn’t. 

Shauna drops to her back, flipping the page over in her hands, staring at the scratches against the light. 

Jackie has left her wondering—driving her crazy. As usual. Shauna’s lips curl up. Oddly amused.

The next day, Shauna’s shoulders pull back further than usual under the weight of a crisp, red flannel. Her jeans are one of the few nicer pairs she owns. She even brushed her hair. 

Natalie was already on her way out of the apartment to head toward Minnesota, but still stopped to ask if Shauna was bored of the ‘Wilderness chic’ look.

It didn’t even make sense. So what if Shauna likes her clothes a little rougher than most people?

…Whatever. The flannels are the opposite of rough, but she’s accepting them, anyway. They’re nice. And she can’t refuse a gift. That’d be rude.

While wearing her slightly nicer clothes, she heads toward Jackie’s office. No appointment. But even if she gets turned away, she still needs to try to see Jackie. 

There’s an urge to be near Jackie that she can’t ignore. One that’s getting worse by the day. Maybe even worse than the one she had in high school. 

Shauna shakes her thoughts away and grins too widely at Isabel as she stops in front of her desk. Isabel pauses when she sees her, then frowns, an odd emotion in her eyes. It causes Shauna’s smile to drop, reminding her too much of the look people gave her after the rescue—pitying, like she’s a diseased dog they aren’t sure how to comfort.

Before Shauna can ask what the problem is, Jackie’s office door opens. Shauna can’t help but straighten.

But it’s not Jackie who walks out of her office. It’s a man. A handsome, older blonde man whose sole attention is on Jackie, who stands in the doorway. 

Shauna’s smile falls. She recognizes him instantly. 

William Hartman. Jackie’s husband.

Will they kiss soon? Will he spin Jackie around with a laugh? Will he jump off a bridge? Will he still smell like Jackie’s perfume if Shauna—

When he leans down to kiss Jackie’s cheek, Jackie looks up. Her face pales, eyes growing wide. 

“I’ll see you later, honey,” William says, a toothpaste commercial smile in place. He turns, heading toward the elevator, but as his gaze passes over Shauna, he does a double-take. His smile drops, then returns even wider. “If I’m wrong, then please go on with your day assuming a crazy man just spoke to you—but are you Shauna?”

Shauna nods hesitantly.

“The Shauna?” William laughs and looks over his shoulder. “How many photos of you two together are you still hoarding, Jax?”

Jax. Jax. Jax.

Shauna’s breathing gets slightly faster. Nausea creeps up. He calls her Jax? That’s Shauna’s nickname for Jackie. Only hers. Not even Jeff was allowed to call her that.

A small voice in her head whispers that it’s Jackie’s husband, not her high school sweetheart, but Shauna bashes it in the skull and kicks it away. That’s not the point. It’s Shauna’s nickname. Jackie should know better.

She clenches her fists, then pulls them behind her back, locking them together so she doesn’t choke William to death.

But he’s so nice. And handsome. And they just left Jackie’s big fucking office. And Shauna is wearing the pity present Jackie bought for her like a complete idiot. Because again, Jackie has everything. 

And he has Jackie. So he has everything, too.

“Good eye.” Shauna laughs a little too hard. “Guess that means you’d be able to pick me out of a lineup.” She extends her hand to William. “Shauna Shipman. I’m currently doing a profile on your wife for Fidelity Magazine.”

“A profile?” William asks curiously. “Are you just getting started?”

Jackie hasn’t told him? Not about Shauna coming around either. Does that mean anything?

Jackie goes to speak, but Shauna cuts her off before she can lie. “A few weeks now,” she says. “Give or take.”

William blinks at her, shocked, and Shauna has to bite down a smirk. 

He grins, bounding back to hug Jackie. “That’s amazing, honey! You’re always so humble. Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

Humble? Jackie?

Jackie catches Shauna’s eye over his shoulder, and the look is harsh, practically screaming, ‘not a word’.

He lets go of Jackie and turns toward Shauna again. “I have to get into the office, but hopefully we can talk more. I’d love to hear more about Jax’s adventures as a kid.”

William steps past her toward the elevators, and Shauna doesn’t look away from Jackie as she calls back. “Don’t worry, I’ll be seeing you soon for some one-on-one time.” Jackie’s eyes flash, her nostrils flaring. “I’m obviously gonna have to interview Jax’s husband.”

He chuckles as he steps into the elevator. “Sounds great! Looking forward to it. I’ll pass along the number to my assistant so we can set something up.”

When the elevator doors close, the room grows silent, an uncomfortable heaviness settling over them.

“Shauna,” Jackie says softly. “I didn’t realize we had something scheduled.”

“We don’t…” Shauna falters, all the pettiness sliding away. Suddenly, she can only feel as if she’s on the wrong side of town. “I just, um, wanted to return this.” She shrugs out of the flannel. A shiver runs through her, but she locks her muscles as she holds it out to Jackie. “I don’t need it. I have plenty of my own.”

Jackie stays silent for too long. She’s staring. Not at Shauna’s face. At her arm. 

Shauna’s heart leaps into her throat. She jerks her head to look—but her tattoo is covered, hidden by her shirt sleeve. She breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

“It’s yours,” Jackie says, steady as if nothing had even happened. “A gift.”

Shauna blinks at the shift, but moves on. “I have my own. I’m fine.”

“Why were you wearing it when you came in if you were just going to return it?” 

Shauna’s face is blank. “To be sure I didn’t want it first. I don’t. Here.” She shifts the flannel in her hand closer to Jackie.

Jackie crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, refusing. Shauna forces back a scream. Now she wants to be immature? Now?

“Fine.” Shauna slams the flannel down on the reception desk. She doesn’t even look at Isabel. It’s embarrassing enough with just Jackie as her audience. 

Within seconds of hitting the call button, the elevator arrives. 

Shauna hits floor one and glances up. Already, Jackie has the flannel in hand, clutching it hard enough that her knuckles whiten. 

“I’ll schedule that interview with William ASAP,” Shauna says.

Just before the doors shut, Shauna swears Jackie steps closer.

Shauna stares up at the ceiling in her apartment, the morning flashing through her mind.

She’s an idiot. A big fucking moron. What was she even doing there? What was she even trying to do? Jackie’s…

…Jackie’s still just as confusing a decade later. But now, Shauna’s slightly more self-aware. At least enough to recognize that she’s being delusional.

Was she seriously getting a crush on Jackie? Like they’re fucking children? Like Jackie isn’t married to the most perfect guy ever? Like Jackie’s not straight?

A new low.

Shauna needs to move on. It’s been ten years.

Shauna sits up abruptly. “No more being pathetic.”

She needs to have sex. Lots of it. Immediately.

A ringing sound makes Shauna’s bloodshot eyes snap open.

“Turn it off,” someone mumbles. 

She looks down at a blonde woman, whose arm wraps around Shauna’s chest. Shauna knocks it off carelessly. She ignores the blonde’s whine to drop to the floor and grab her phone.

“Where the hell are you?” Jackie snaps.

Shauna blinks at the wall. “Huh?” 

“You have an interview scheduled with Isabel,” Jackie says. “I even made sure she could take some time away from her duties to do it. Now it’s 10:15, and you’re nowhere to be found, Shauna.”

“Fuck,” Shauna mouths to herself. She leaps to her feet so fast that the room spins. “I-I’m just around the corner!” She hops into her jeans. Her foot twists into the fabric, and she catches herself on the bed before she can fall.

“Are you?” Jackie asks suspiciously.

“Yep! I’ll be there any minute.”

“Mm,” the blonde girl says. “Where are you going? Come do that thing with your tongue again.”

If there is a god, Jackie didn’t hear that.

“Your tongue, Shipman?” Jackie says. 

“Th-that was some homeless lady,” Shauna says. “Be there soon! Bye!”

Before Jackie can reply, Shauna hangs up.

“You have to go?” The blonde says, pouting. 

“Yep, gotta work.” Shauna ties her shoes and jogs out of the bedroom. “Nice meeting you, Sarah.”

“It’s Beca!”

“That’s nice. Have a good day!”

When Shauna sprints out of the apartment, she could fall to her knees. She’s only a few blocks from Jackie’s office. 

Over the last week, the only times they’ve interacted have been by email—all very short and professional. Shauna has also spent every night of that week somewhere else. 

She’d wake up, hurry over to whatever she needed to do that day, and then always go home, feed Princess, and spend time with her. Afterward, she goes out, but her cat is the one bit of responsibility she’ll never shirk, no matter how upset.

When Shauna runs out of the elevator on Jackie’s floor, she’s flushed and sweaty. Her flannel is twisted half off her shoulders, and she still has bedhead. 

Jackie and Isabel are speaking quietly at Isabel’s desk. They both turn, silent judgment in their eyes as they look her over. 

“Sorry,” Shauna says, breathing heavily, “I got stuck behind a bunch of homeless sex addicts.”

Jackie gives her an annoyed look before turning toward her office. “You have twenty minutes left. You’d better make them count, Shauna.”

Fuck. That’s nothing. 

“Well, I mean, if you insist,” Shauna says, walking over to lean on Isabel’s desk. “But you’re only hurting yourself.”

Jackie pauses, then slowly turns, brow raised. 

“Isabel is your closest employee and obviously cares about you.” Shauna shrugs as Isabel hides further behind her deck. “The only other person who might give me that good of quotes is William. But if you want to lose your chance for a good profile…”

Jackie makes an aggravated noise in her throat. “Fine. Thirty.”

Shauna steps closer. “An hour.”

“You had an hour and arrived forty minutes late, Shauna!”

Shauna’s lips purse as she tilts her head at Jackie. She needs Isabel for the best quotes; no one else knows Jackie better right now. 

The thought makes her chest burn.

Jackie falters. “Forty, and that’s as good as you’re getting.”

Shauna grins. “Deal! Thank you.” She turns to Isabel, whose eyebrows are practically at her hairline. “Show me to the conference room so we can get set up, please.”

Jackie’s office door only sounds shut when they turn the corner.

“Mrs. Hartman isn’t usually one to change her mind when it’s set,” Isabel says a few minutes later.

Shauna nods, writing quickly in her notes. “Can you think of any examples?”

“…Well, I suppose I’m trying to point out what happened at my desk,” Isabel says slowly. “She doesn’t usually back down.”

“She didn’t use to back down with me,” Shauna says, still scribbling, “if that’s what you’re getting at. She must be in a good mood.”

“She didn’t?” 

“Nope. She’d usually bully me into doing whatever she wanted.” Shauna looks up, gaze piercing. “Does she still do that?”

Isabel goes to speak, then pauses, choosing her words carefully. “She doesn’t force people to do anything. She’s not mean or even really pushy. She’s… charming. Charismatic. I’ve seen her dazzle a room before, and she’s always very good at knowing when to back off and when to keep going.”

Shauna writes: finally learned subtlety, then crosses it out, knowing it’s irrelevant. She’s not writing fun facts about Jackie for herself.

She writes the more useful parts of what Isabel said instead.

“And how does she treat people? Especially employees.” Shauna pretends to think. “Is she ever backhanded with her compliments, for example?” 

“No,” Isabel draws the word out. “She usually gives really good advice or critiques that always cut to the heart of the matter. You can tell she’s been in charge a lot in life.”

“I bet,” Shauna mumbles to herself. Then speaks louder, gripping the pencil tighter. “What are her weaknesses as a leader?”

Isabel scrutinizes her, then sighs. “She’s a perfectionist. But she can’t be perfect—no one can—and that…” Her lips twist. “Sometimes she gets a little short when things don’t go how she needs them to.”

Shauna nods, writing it down. It’s nothing, really, especially compared to most high-level executives. 

“Off-the-record,” Isabel says, and Shauna glances up, surprised. “That’s the right way to do it, correct? And then you have to agree, or it doesn’t count?”

“Uh, yeah. Off-the-record. Sure.”

“Something inside me just…” Isabel sighs. “I feel like I should tell you. I keep those combs in my desk for Mrs. Hartman because she sleeps in the office so often. I… tend to find her sleeping on her desk. I try not to scold her, but she’s going to get a crick in her neck.”

Shauna stares at her silently, her emotions a jumble. Something in her wants to go into Jackie’s office and wrap her in a blanket to fix it.

She swallows it down hard.

“I see,” Shauna says. “Do you have anything about Jackie that you think people need to know?”

Disappointment shines in Isabel’s eyes. 

Shauna looks away. What’d Isabel expect her to do—the exact thing Shauna wanted? 

“Gotta gift for you,” Garrett says, a few days later. He hands Shauna a letter addressed to her.

Shauna bites the middle of her pencil, studying the envelope with confusion. “What’s this?” she asks around the pencil. 

“Came for you,” Garrett says. “Guy who dropped it off said he wants to speak to you about your Jackie Hartman profile.”

Shauna gives it one more look-over before tearing it open. Despite the secrecy, it’s fairly mundane. 

Hi,

I used to be Mrs. Hartman’s assistant and have some information I think you’d really like to know. Meet me on the corner of xxx Street and xxxxx Street at 3 pm tomorrow if you want to know more.

Lucas

Shauna frowns at the letter. 

Something about it feels off, but she can’t put her finger on it. How’d he know she was doing a profile? And when did he even work for Jackie? Isabel seems as if she’s been there forever.

Shauna reads through it one more time before picking up her office phone and dialing Isabel’s number.

“Jacqueline Hartman’s office, Isabel speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hey, Isabel. It’s Shauna. Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, hi, Shauna,” Isabel says, some of the professionalism bleeding out of her voice. “Is this about my interview?”

“Mm, nope.” Shauna wiggles her pencil back and forth with her fingers. “You did a great job. No issues.”

“That’s good,” Isabel says, sounding pleased. “Then what’s this about?”

“Uh, did someone named”—Shauna picks up the letter, reading it again—“Lucas ever work closely with Jackie?”

“Lucas… that sounds familiar. Give me one moment.” Typing sounds out, then Isabel makes a thoughtful noise. “Yep, I just pulled up an old employee directory to double-check. He was the assistant before me.”

Shauna frowns, tapping the letter on her desk. “Any chance you can tell me why he got fired?”

Isabel hesitates. “I don’t know why, but Mrs. Hartman always seemed… uncomfortable talking about him. I wasn’t going to pry anyway, but that made me even less curious.”

“And there’s no record of his performance? You’ve never even heard people mention why he was let go?”

“HR would have the full details. I have admin privileges, but that’s personnel records. And the only thing people did talk about was that no one knew why he was fired.”

“I see.” Shauna clutches the letter tighter. “Okay. I really appreciate your help, Isabel. Have a good afternoon.”

“You too.”

Shauna sighs. She’ll be there tomorrow. Of course she will. It’s about Jackie.

At 3 pm, a man walks onto the corner wearing a large trench coat and a newsboy hat. Shauna immediately clocks him as both Lucas and a complete and utter fucking idiot.

She walks up behind him. “Are you Lucas?”

He jumps a foot in the air and spins around. “You’re Shauna—Shauna Shipman?”

“Yes.”

He flicks his eyes around like he thinks someone is watching. “Let’s take a walk.”

Shauna exhales a very long breath before following.

They walk a few blocks. A hot dog vendor shouts orders to hungry patrons. Some guys are leaning on a wall, laughing loudly and bullshitting with each other. Lucas still hasn’t said anything.

“You said you had info, Lucas, right?”

Lucas glances around again before nodding. “Y-yeah, I do.”

Shauna waits a moment, but he doesn’t continue. She rolls her eyes. “And that info is?”

“Okay, so listen.” Lucas turns to her. “I know who you are, alright. The plane crash, the one you were in with Jackie.”

Shauna keeps her face blank even as her gaze sharpens. She nods at him to continue. 

“A-and this ain’t really about that, okay?” he says. “It came up, but it wasn’t the main thing. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Shauna stops as they step onto a much quieter street. “I just want info on Jacqueline Hartman,” she lies. “My history with her is irrelevant if it means releasing things the public should know.”

Lucas sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, that’s why I knew I’d be okay speaking to you,” he says. “You seem like good people.” 

Shauna smiles with no warmth.

“Jackie—she fired me to uh… get back at me?” Lucas frowns. “To punish me? Y’know what I mean?”

Shauna studies him closely, wondering what he did to piss Jackie off. “Retaliation?”

“Yeah, that! She retaliationed against me.”

Shauna pulls out her notebook, her jaw tightening. “What did she retaliate against you for?”

“I saw something I shouldn’t have,” he says, a snicker leaking into his voice.

Shauna’s hand slows. Something about his tone makes her itch. She takes an obvious glance around, suddenly wanting to keep this as private as Lucas did. She nods down a nearby alleyway. He’s happy to follow her down. 

“What’d you see?”

“Mrs. Hartman was working late one night when I left at the end of the day,” Lucas says. “I get almost to the subway when I realize I left my nephew’s birthday present on my desk. So then I gotta go all the way back. But when I get to my desk, I hear this weird noise from Jackie’s office, right? So I walk over, and lucky for me, the door’s cracked. Obviously, I’m gonna peep inside—I’m nosy, sue me—but what I saw…” 

He pauses, like he’s adding dramatic effect. Shauna wants to punch him in the throat. 

“She was in there, lying under her female boss, Abby Gordon, kissing her. Right on the couch!”

Shauna stops writing. She can’t even tell if he’s full of shit or not, but she still stops breathing for a moment, words flying through her brain: 

Boss.
Female.
Kissing.
Jackie.

“So then, y’know it’s obvious what I gotta do?”

“Report sexual harassment?” Shauna asks thinly.

Lucas pauses with a frown. “No? I thought they both seemed pretty into it,” he snorts. Shauna’s fists clench. “So anyway, I go to her, and I say, Jackie, I saw you kissing Gordon last night. Give me a raise, or I’ll tell. She was already pretty pissed about that, but then I mentioned the crash and said I’d spread it too, and she got furious. Yelling at me, calling me really mean names. Then she fired me.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that. It was pure fucking payback. Like it’s my fault she can’t lock a door.”

Shauna closes her notebook and puts it in her pocket before turning to go, having more than enough.

“Wait! Where you going?” Lucas asks. “I have more info. Much more. Uh, she subscribes to your magazine, y’know? She used to read it every week like clockwork. First thing in the morning, every Wednesday. She’s kinda a bitch—”

Shauna spins around and punches him in the mouth. He stumbles, falling into the wall with a cry.

She grabs his coat. “If you ever try to ruin Jackie’s reputation like this again, if you so much as speak her name—” She tightens her grip, dragging him closer. “I’ll show you exactly what we did with the dead bodies from the crash.” 

Shauna snaps her teeth near his nose. He cries out, trembling under her fingertips. 

With a scoff, she releases him, letting him drop to the ground. She doesn’t spare him another glance as she leaves.

Her mind races over the following days. 

Is it true? If it is, did Jackie even choose to do it? Can she choose to do it? Abby is her direct boss, isn’t she? Is that legal? Is Jackie gay? Is that a fucked-up question to ask in this situation? Is it even true?

The questions are endless and constant, over and over. But she can’t ask Jackie. What if it’s not true, and it upsets her? What if it is true, and it upsets her even more?

Shauna desperately wants to know, but she can’t look at Jackie right now without wanting to cry. So she needs to do the next best thing.

“I appreciate you taking the time, Ms. Gordon,” Shauna says, holding her pencil tight. 

Abby Gordon is in her mid-40s. She has dark brown hair and eyes, crow’s feet, smile lines, and a kind face.

Shauna wants to kill her. How much has she touched Jackie? Where on her body? Where in this building? Did Jackie enjoy it? Did she hate it? Did Abby Gordon fucking hurt Jackie?

“Please call me Abby.” She smiles.

Shauna smiles back, too sharply. “Of course. I’m here with some questions for the profile on Jackie,” she says. “I’m assuming you’ve heard.”

“Yes, of course.” Abby’s smile softens. “I’m very proud of Jackie. I always knew she was bound for great things.”

Shauna pretends to study her notes, so she doesn’t leap across the table. “How would you describe your relationship with Jackie?”

“I’m her mentor. I’ve been cultivating her talents since she got here.” Abby laughs lightly. “You should’ve seen her at first. Impatient, immature, couldn’t read a room to save her life.” She laughs again. “It took time, but I knew it’d be worth it. That girl has something special.”

“So she looks up to?” Shauna asks, heart pounding faster. “Trusts you?”

Abby raises a brow, but nods after a beat. “You’d need to ask her to be sure. But I’d assume she does.”

“And you plan to let her take over your position as creative director, eventually?”

Abby grins too charmingly, like a snake lulling you into a bite. “When I’m not using it anymore, sure.”

“Would you say she’s ready now?”

“I think…” Abby purses her lips. “I think it’d be a difficult transition, but once she hit her stride, she’d do wonderfully—even now.”

Shauna pauses, trying to think of how to get to the point. 

“Jackie used to confide in me often,” Abby says. “She’s not the most… forthcoming with her husband, but she was always very open with me.”

Shauna grits her teeth so hard it hurts. She can’t tell if she’s imagining the salacious tone in Abby’s voice or not. 

“Ask what you really want to know.” Abby’s lips twitch. “Off-the-record.”

Every fucking interview seems to be off the record since Shauna’s been here. 

“Fine. Off-the-record. Was the nature of your relationship with Jackie ever sexual?”

“Yes,” Abby says calmly.

Shauna’s hands itch to wrap around her neck. “Who initiated it?”

“Jackie.”

“Bullshit.”

“Believe me or don’t.” Laughter shines in Abby’s eyes. “I don’t mind.”

Shauna’s stomach keeps twisting up tighter with every word. If she’s lucky, she’ll throw up on Abby’s face.

“Who ended it?”

“Also her,” Abby says with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“Why?”

Finally, Abby pauses before firing off an answer. “I asked her to leave her husband for me. She said no.”

The pencil breaks in Shauna’s hand.

Abby’s voice cracks. “She doesn’t even love him.” 

Shauna swallows hard. “How do you know?” 

“He’s a man,” Abby says, an insinuation in her voice.

“Bisexual people exist,” Shauna scoffs, somehow having the energy to be offended, even now.

“I know.” Abby slowly sinks backward in her seat. “But Jackie’s not one of them.”

Shauna lets the idea settle in, unsure how to feel. Unsure if it’s even true.

…Best not to think about it now. 

She stands and turns toward the conference room door.

“She used to talk about you a lot,” Abby says with a harsh, bitter edge.

Shauna pauses, not turning around. “Did it bother you?”

“Constantly.”

“Good.” Shauna swings the door open. “And I don’t care who started it. If it’s not about work, stay the fuck away from her.”

Abby laughs.

Shauna looks over her shoulder. “Or I’ll start looking into former female employees who were under your supervision and left the company under questionable circumstances.”

Abby’s face falls, growing pale.

The door slams as Shauna leaves.

Chapter Text

Shauna blows a lock of hair out of her eyes as she tightens Veronica’s shower head.

“Thank you so much, Shauna,” Veronica says, leaning against the bathroom doorframe and watching her too closely.

“No problem,” Shauna says, avoiding her eyes. “You just needed to change the plumber’s tape out so it could seal better.”

“You’re always so smart,” Veronica simpers.

“Thanks.” Shauna tightens it one last time, then steps off the shower ledge. “I’d better get going. I have a meeting tomorrow.” 

At 3 pm, but it’s Jackie, so somehow that still doesn’t feel like enough time to prepare. Especially when the only note Shauna got with the request was: I have some questions.

“Oh!” Veronica says. “Of course, I understand.” She edges in front of Shauna in the doorway. “Unless you’re up for something else…”

“Like a movie?”

Veronica stares at her for a few moments, then sighs deeply. “No. Um. Never mind. Goodnight, Shauna.”

Shauna escapes before Veronica can ask her to help with anything else, and quickly makes it back into the safe confines of her apartment.

Princess comes padding up, chewing on a stuffed mouse. With a smile, Shauna picks her up to cuddle on the couch. 

“There’s my girl,” she coos, falling back onto the cushions and hugging the cat to her chest. “I should bring you tomorrow so you can protect me from Jackie.”

Princess gives her a look before wiggling her head, the bell from her toy ringing out. The rest of her body wiggles next as she tries to escape, and Shauna finally puts her down with an exaggerated pout. “Fine, go play with your toys, traitor.”

The cat happily does as she’s told, rolling around on the floor with whatever she can find. Shauna lies down, letting her thoughts run wild, too.

Since finding out about Jackie’s affair, Shauna’s mind has been going crazy. It makes her think stupid thoughts and come up with insane ideas. That 0% chance has risen to 1%, and now her impulsiveness is beating her over the head. 

She’ll probably do something stupid soon. It’s practically become habitual now.

A white streak leaps up onto Shauna’s stomach. She folds in half, yelping. 

“You are way too big to keep doing this to me,” Shauna wheezes. 

Princess purrs, settling in for a nap. 

The next day, Jackie sits behind her desk, staring. 

Seconds pass. Still, Jackie only stares.

Shauna taps her finger quickly on her thigh. It’s hard not to take a lighter to that couch. Or to hold Jackie down and examine every inch to make sure there aren’t any permanent marks spelling out the name Abby or William.

Shauna has had enough. “Am I in the principal’s office?” she asks. “What are you doing?”

“I spoke to Isa,” Jackie says slowly.

“Okay.”

“You asked about Lucas.”

“I did.”

Jackie stands and walks around to lean against the front of her desk.

“What’d that idiot, Lucas, tell you?” Jackie groans. “I didn’t even hire him. The last ACD did. I don’t know why. I don’t think he even knows how to count.”

“I’d be more surprised if he did.”

Jackie chuckles, but Shauna doesn’t continue, letting Jackie stew, letting her feel half as crazy. 

“Well,” Jackie says, “are you going to answer or not? What did he say?”

“I’m not publishing anything he told me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Shauna leans her cheek on her fist.

“I’m not worried.” Jackie’s voice quiets. “I just wanna know what he told you. That’s all.”

Getting to her feet, Shauna’s brain lights up at finally seeing Jackie squirm. “His story was hard to believe, admittedly.”

Jackie sighs deeply, her face easing. 

Shauna steps closer. “Abby, however, seemed credible.” 

Jackie jerks toward the door. Shauna moves in front of her before she can pass. She backs Jackie up until Jackie bumps into the desk with a gasp. Stumbling from the impact, Jackie grips Shauna’s shoulders for balance.

“Your boss, Jackie? Really?” Her face darkens. “Is that why you wanted me to do this profile? Because you care what Abby thinks of you.”

Jackie’s lips part before her expression hardens. “You are the last person who gets to judge me for having sex with someone I shouldn’t.” She grips Shauna’s shoulders harder, nails biting in.

Shauna’s nostrils flare. All she can think about is Abby’s hands on her.

“Where’d she touch you?”

Jackie falters. “What?”

Shauna’s fingers brush Jackie’s neck. “Here?”

Jackie swallows, eyes darting over her face. Slowly, she nods.

“Here?” Shauna asks, ghosting Jackie’s waist. 

A nod.

Shauna doesn’t blink as she drags her fingers down Jackie’s thigh. 

Shakily, Jackie exhales. She nods.

“Do I even want to ask where William’s touched you?”

Jackie presses her lips together. “We’ve been married for years, Shauna…” The implication is obvious. He’s touched her plenty.

Shauna grabs Jackie’s hips and shoves her harder into the desk.

“And Abby fucked you, too?” Shauna asks.

Jackie falters before nodding. 

“On the couch?”

Another nod.

Shauna glances at the desk. It’s so pathetic, but spreading Jackie over the surface and ruining that professional veneer is the one daydream she can’t get out of her head. If she finds out someone else saw Jackie so vulnerable, she might kill everyone.

She reaches up, fingers squeezing around Jackie’s jaw.

“On your desk?”

Jackie’s jaw stiffens in her grip. “No, of course not.”

Shauna exhales, some of the pressure in her chest easing as she takes a moment to calm down.

Once she does, Shauna remembers their position. Jackie’s body trapped against hers, Jackie’s face trapped in her grip. 

She starts to let go when Jackie catches her wrist, keeping her in place. Shauna softens, thumb caressing Jackie’s cheek. A decade later, and Jackie’s still the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. 

Stroking again, her eyes track over Jackie’s face, and she can’t help but notice there’s one thing missing. One thing Shauna still hasn’t gotten to experience since seeing Jackie again.

“Don’t cover your freckles the next time you’re meant to see me.”

Jackie blinks, then her hand on Shauna’s wrist slips away, and both of hers press against Shauna’s shoulder blades. “I’ll do it if you promise to wear one of the flannels I bought you.”

Shauna pushes their foreheads together. “Alright,” she whispers. 

She can feel herself leaning in; she can feel Jackie leaning in. Anticipation thrums. She hasn’t kissed Jackie since they were both sixteen. 

Their noses slide; Jackie’s breath ghosts her lips.

“Mrs. Hartman, your 3:30 is here.” 

Shauna almost falls on her ass with how fast she trips away. 

Glaring at the intercom, she wants to tear her hair out. She glances over, already braced for it, but still aggravated to see Jackie’s arms crossing tightly over her chest, her expression shuttering again.

Part of Shauna thinks the last few minutes might’ve been a very good hallucination. She sighs, heading toward the door.

“Wait.”

Jackie catches her hand and tugs her back. Before Shauna can react, Jackie cups her cheeks, leans in, and brushes a single, gentle kiss against her lips. When Shauna gasps, Jackie presses her lips harder—only for a second. Barely long enough to feel it. Then she pulls away.

“Wear the green flannel,” Jackie whispers, tucking back a lock of hair dangling in Shauna’s eye. 

“Give me my freckles back,” Shauna whispers. 

Jackie nods and lets go, finally letting Shauna pull away. Shauna doesn’t look back when she leaves, too worried she’d pull Jackie into her arms again.

“Something happened,” Shauna says, sitting on her living room floor and playing with Princess’ paws while avoiding her attempts to bite her.

“Okay,” Tai says, voice coming out clear with Shauna’s phone on speakerphone.

“Something that I think is great.”

“Okay…”

“But you may not.”

“Oh, god,” Tai groans. “What?”

“Jackie and I kissed.” 

For a moment, the only sound is Princess’ collar jingling as she attempts to nip Shauna’s finger again.

“Isn’t she married?” Tai asks.

“Yes, but her secret female ex-lover told me Jackie is a lesbian.” 

Shauna’s careful not to mention that the lover was Jackie’s boss. That’s a different beast.

“Sure. Okay, why not?” Tai says. “So you kissed?”

“Yeah, but it was pretty chaste.”

“Are you planning on doing it again?” Tai asks.

“Do you think I should?”

“Would my answer really matter either way?” 

Sometimes Shauna forgets how well Tai knows her.

Shauna makes an acknowledging sound in her throat. She says the first thing that comes to mind to try to change the subject. “Princess says hi.”

“I can hear you bothering her.”

“I’m not bothering her. She likes—ow!” Shauna shakes her hand out from where Princess bit her.

“Right,” Tai says, the roll of her eyes obvious. “Just be careful with the Jackie thing. This isn’t high school. There are real consequences when you pull stuff now.”

Shauna’s arms wrap around her legs. “I think the emergency abortion when we got back was a pretty real consequence, don’t you think?”

Tai stays silent for a moment before her voice comes back, much softer now. “Of course it was, Shauna. I should’ve thought about it more before I said that.”

Shauna stays silent.

“Just…” Tai sighs. “Just be careful. You and Jackie.”

“Alright,” Shauna says. “How’s that girl you’ve been seeing? Simone, right?”

Tai’s voice brightens, and Shauna smiles, turning her brain off to listen.

Jackie and William live in a two-story townhouse. It’s rich without being obnoxious—travertine floors instead of marble, simple crown molding instead of elaborate, and filled mostly with flowers instead of decor that’s only shiny and breakable.

Shauna can recognize Jackie here in a way she never could in her teenage bedroom. Back then, Jackie was relegated to the corners, too stymied by her mother’s quiet disapproval to try to be unique. But now she’s slightly freer, and Shauna can’t help lingering on the bright flowers and little specks of personality Jackie lets shine through. 

Every trace of Jackie makes her want to touch the house, to leave fingerprints behind, and pick up Jackie’s dust. 

Eventually, Shauna’s gaze drifts to where Jackie hovers in the entryway, her body practically buzzing with anticipation for Shauna’s verdict.

“I like it,” Shauna says.

Jackie grins so wide her cheeks look ready to split in two. Shauna lets her eyes track over the skin. 

Freckles. Just like Jackie promised. Shauna knows Jackie appreciates the green flannel she’s wearing with how her gaze keeps sticking. 

It happens again—Jackie slowly dragging her eyes over Shauna’s body, lingering and heavy. This time, Shauna can’t take it anymore. She steps into Jackie’s space. Jackie’s muscles stiffen, wavering as if she might step away.

Before she can, Shauna leans in for a hug, and Jackie’s body loosens. No one would think twice about seeing it. They’re childhood best friends, of course they hug. What they don’t do is what Shauna does next, though. 

Turning her head, Shauna slowly nuzzles her nose against Jackie’s cheek. Her perfume smells expensive—mild but memorable. No more body sprays from The Gap. Under it, Shauna can smell her. Still the same. Still Jackie. 

She inhales her, nothing discrete about it, and Jackie holds her even tighter. When Shauna has her fill, she kisses over each freckle until she can feel Jackie shudder and the heat of a blush below her lips.

“You remembered,” Shauna murmurs.

“So did you.” Jackie clenches her fist into the back of Shauna’s green flannel. 

“Hello, ladies!” William calls as he enters the room. 

Shauna goes to jerk back, but Jackie holds her tighter. 

“Slowly,” Jackie whispers. “There’s nothing weird about us hugging. But you freaking out is.”

Shauna pulls back, giving her a curious look. Jackie avoids her eyes. 

She sounded… oddly knowledgeable on the subject. Was it only Alex? Others? Shauna wants to go beat up half the city, just on the off chance one of them touched Jackie too.

William walks closer and reaches out. Shauna grips his hand. An idea hits, to squeeze so hard it hurts. But William is a lot bigger than her, and all it will do is make Shauna look stupid. 

She smiles politely instead, and William smiles even wider. “Is my office alright with you? I don’t use it as much anymore, but I think it can handle an interview.”

Shauna nods and glances over her shoulder at Jackie. Hopefully, it doesn’t look longing.

William follows her gaze, chuckling. “Don’t worry, Shauna. I’m sure Jackie is okay with us being alone together for an hour. She probably has better things to do, anyway.”

Shauna narrows her eyes suspiciously. Does he just want her alone? Yesterday, she might’ve even taken the chance. She looks at Jackie again, who seems to have forgotten herself, ignoring William to gaze at Shauna instead.

Shauna’s stomach develops a new style of rhythm and dance before she turns back to William. Doing anything with him isn’t worth it. 

“Of course,” Jackie says, unable to hide the way her body shifts closer as if to force her way in.

William smiles politely, then puts his hand near Shauna’s back, hovering but not touching. It’s like he took too many sexual harassment training courses.

When they get to his office, he opens the door for her—such a fucking gentleman—and motions for her to sit across from him as he folds himself into his own high-backed seat.

“So,” he says, clasping his hands near his chest, “what would you like to know? I’m an open book.”

Shauna tilts her head, finally taking the time to really study him. 

His smile is genuine, but very practiced. His hands are clasped high, which means he’s either confident or it’s a coincidence. He’s maintaining polite eye contact, but being careful not to linger too long, like he doesn’t want to intimidate her. 

Shauna’s treating him like a criminal or a case study, but it’s hard not to see him as more than just the typical interviewee.

“Could you describe the circumstances in which you met Jackie?” 

William’s face softens. “I was speaking at a Rutgers career event. Midway through, I stumble over a word.” He laughs. “I wanted to flee the state. But then I look out into the crowd, and there’s Jackie, an encouraging smile on her face. It was easy to finish after that.”

Shauna squeezes her notebook so hard the side digs into her palm. “Has the age gap ever been difficult?” She shoots him a carefully neutral look. “What was it when you met?”

“I was 29, and Jackie was 22.” He shrugs. “But she was always mature for her age.”

Bull-fucking-shit.

“And that never caused issues?” 

William shakes his head. “Her parents took to me instantly.” He smiles again, some perfect thing that looks too curated. “They could probably tell I was smitten.”

Shauna thinks it’s stupid even to ask, but she needs to cover all angles. “And no issues at work? Or around peers?” 

His laugh sounds more real this time—loud and a little barking. “Some of my colleagues like to joke that she’s too old now.”

I’d knock their teeth out.

Shauna’s gaze sharpens. “And what do you think?”

“That I’m lucky to have her.” William shakes his head with a soft smile. “She’s so calm and level-headed. Rarely says anything bad about people. Doesn’t even curse. She’s… demure. Basically, the perfect wife.”

What?

“Um…” Shauna pauses, staring down at her notes. “Yeah. Okay. Interesting.”

She’s had enough of hearing him talking about Jackie as if he knows her best while describing her completely wrong.

“You seem much kinder than most men in high-level finance. Any particular reason?”

He chuckles. “I was just taught to be kind.”

“By your parents?”

“Mhm.”

“Your father was in similar financial ventures. Your mother would colloquially be known as a ‘trophy wife’ from old money. Correct?”

His smile slips slightly. “Yes.”

“Is your personality common among your peers?” 

“Some of them.” He shifts in his seat.

“You had a stellar reputation when working as a hedge fund manager.” Shauna crosses her legs. “Despite repeated losses for investors, your firm continued posting considerable gains, and new backers kept investing anyway. You have a similar business strategy now. Multiple companies you’ve bought were quickly stripped for parts, massively helping your bottom line.” She tilts her head. “Do you think your affable personality helps new investors keep trusting you despite the history to the contrary?”

William stares. 

“What does this have to do with Jackie?”

Shauna doesn’t miss a beat. “Has Jackie ever given you tips on marketing yourself to potential investors, or is this persona self-taught?” 

“I—persona?” he asks, brow furrowing. “I’m just doing my job. I go home, I see my wife.” His throat bobs. “That’s it.”

Shauna slowly looks down at her notebook. “Let’s move on,” she says. “Are you proud of your wife’s success?”

“I think so…”

Shauna raises a brow, writes ‘thinks so’ in large, scratchy handwriting, and makes it obvious when she underlines it for emphasis.

The next day, Shauna dozes on the couch, thinking about the interview with William. 

She didn’t even get to say goodbye to Jackie before she had to leave. Not that William seemed to care. It’s been a while since someone wanted Shauna out of their house that badly, but he herded her out like cattle. It’d be funny if she could’ve at least seen Jackie first. 

A knock sounds at the door. Shauna groans but gets up and walks over to unlock it. 

She blinks. Then blinks again to check if she’s hallucinating.

But nope. 

Jackie is really standing in front of her. 

“Are you going to invite me in?” Jackie asks, tilting her head.

Shauna’s eyes sweep up and down Jackie’s body. She’s still in her skirt and blouse. “Did you just come straight from work? What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”

“Can I tell you inside, or do you want to talk on your doorstep that badly?”

Shauna looks over her shoulder. The only things on the floor are a few of Princess’ toys. Pillows ruffle the couch, but it looks cozy, not dirty. Only one mug clutters the coffee table.

“Fine.” Shauna swings the door open wider. “Excuse the mess.” 

“Oh, it’s—” Jackie stops in the entranceway. 

Shauna follows her gaze. Princess is sitting a few feet away, sizing Jackie up. 

“You have a cat?” Jackie asks, voice oddly soft. 

Humming in agreement, Shauna walks over to Princess and picks her up with a grunt of effort. “This is Princess.” 

Princess wiggles a few times before settling, leaning further into Shauna’s chest.

“Princess?” Jackie asks with a growing smile. 

“I didn’t name her.” Shauna rolls her eyes and goes to sit on the couch, arms already getting tired.

Jackie sits close and reaches out, but a loud snarl grows in Princess’ throat. 

“Hey,” Shauna says. “Relax, jeez.” She glances at Jackie, smiling awkwardly. “Sorry, she doesn’t really like anyone but me.”

Jackie looks disappointed, but doesn’t try again. “Who named her?”

“Oh, uh.” Shauna sets Princess on her lap and pets her head. “She was my neighbor’s. But he died a few years ago. His granddaughter named her. I didn’t have the heart to change it after she looked so upset when her father said they couldn’t take Princess back home with them.” 

“Oh,” Jackie breathes, giving Shauna the same look she used to give her in high school. Soft and searching, like she thinks Shauna has something she’s missing.

Shauna clears her throat and grabs Jackie’s hand. “Here, we can try again.”

“O-okay,” Jackie says, sounding oddly out of her depth.

“Be nice, Princess,” Shauna says, guiding Jackie’s hand near Princess’ face to sniff. “Jackie’s my oldest friend in the world.” Jackie’s breath hitches. “The only person she’s hurting here is me.”

“I’d never hurt you, Shipman,” Jackie says. “Shut up.”

Shauna can’t resist side-eyeing her.

“Not on purpose,” Jackie amends. 

Shauna stays silent.

“Well, not anymore!”

Shauna’s lips twitch up. “The louder you get, the less chance Princess will like you.”

Jackie’s eyes narrow, but she obeys, quieting as Princess finally stops licking herself to acknowledge her. A beat passes. Princess inches her head closer, giving Jackie’s fingers a delicate sniff, then she settles, seeming to accept her presence.

“That went a lot easier than most people she meets. Go for under the chin,” Shauna says, already leading Jackie’s hand again. “She likes it there.”

“I came to speak to you about yesterday,” Jackie says, watching her hand drift closer to the cat. “I realized I hadn’t said why I was here yet.”

Shauna stays quiet as Princess lets Jackie pet her without complaint. 

“And I found your address by…” Jackie blushes. “By asking Isabel to find your address. I don’t know what she did.”

Shauna laughs. Princess shakes out her fur as she gets up and saunters off to hide somewhere. Shauna brushes off the cat hair from her boxers with a smile still lingering on her lips.

“I’ve missed that smile,” Jackie says.

Shauna glances up. Jackie’s eyes are angled downward, watching Shauna’s lips with a large amount of focus. 

“You didn’t have to come. Yesterday wasn’t that big of a deal.” Shauna says, needing a second to breathe. “But… I’m sorry if William is upset with you.”

Frowning, Jackie finally flicks her eyes upward. “He told me the kind of questions you were asking him. You didn’t do that because of me, right?”

Shauna glances at her, then away.

“Seriously?” Jackie groans. “I get the urge, but you need to have more self-control.”

Shauna side-eyes her. “I’ve done this plenty of times without your help, Jackie,” she says. “I really don’t need you to lecture me.”

Jackie straightens, her shoulders growing tight. “Well,” she says, “it’s not like I’d know, right?”

“…What’s that mean?” Shauna asks slowly.

“I’m not sure how long you’ve even been doing this.” Jackie laughs a little too hard. “Maybe I would if you reached out, or came to my wedding like I asked.”

Shauna works her jaw. “You didn’t ask,” she says. “Your note made it seem like it was a given. Already decided.”

“…I don’t even remember what I said.”

Shauna gets up with a sigh. “One sec.” 

She ignores Jackie’s bewildered glance to walk to her bedroom and grab the box tucked into the back of her closet. Rummaging through it, she finds what she’s looking for and returns to the living room, sitting next to Jackie again. 

“Here.” Shauna hands her the envelope.

Jackie slides the card out and stares at it.

“This is my wedding invitation,” Jackie whispers.

“Yep.” Shauna points at the bottom. “See: ‘I’ll make sure to find time to catch up with you.’ You acted like it was a given.”

“I thought it was.” A tear drips down Jackie’s cheek. “We’ve said we’d be at each other’s weddings since we were kids.”

Shauna tenses. She feels as though she may have missed something here. “Yeah, but. I mean. It would’ve been. Um. Nice to be asked, I guess. Or uh.” 

“And I was trying to reach out to forgive you.” Jackie shakes her head, laughing dryly. “Just like now, when I came here to make sure you were okay after you stupidly attacked my husband.”

“The husband you don’t even like?” Shauna scoffs, her stomach churning again. “What does it matter?”

There’s a shift in the air. A warning that Shauna might not like where this ends.

“I like him just fine,” Jackie says, her voice dangerous. “He buys me thoughtful gifts, we have sex at least once a week—”

“Well, you sure aren’t in love with him,” Shauna interrupts, needing her to stop fucking talking.

“How the hell would you know, Shauna?” Jackie snaps, getting to her feet. “You’ve only been back what—two months now?”

“I didn’t need more than two seconds to see it,” she lies. 

Jackie rocks back, her face scrunching up. “See what?”

“Let’s just say that lesbians aren’t falling in love with men, Jackie.”

“I am not—”

“God, it’s just like high school,” Shauna says, shaking her head. “I convinced myself for years that you were straight and I was just reading into things, but a lesbian affair with your boss is kinda hard to deny.” 

“Les—” Jackie exhales. “That was nothing. Just some fun away from William when the marriage was getting dry.” Her hands shake before she squeezes them into fists. “Th-that’s all it ever was.”

Fun. Is that what Shauna is, too?

It’s all the same. Shauna’s life is really a big fucking circle. Except this time, she’s not going along for the ride.

“You can be a slut and fuck your female boss to get to the top, but you can’t even admit what it means to yourself?”

A loud smack rings out. Shauna’s cheek stings.

Jackie breathes heavily, more anger and hurt in her eyes than when they were 18 and arguing in a cabin. 

Regret pierces Shauna’s chest.

Jackie storms toward the front door.

“W-wait, Jackie,” Shauna says. “I’m—”

Jackie whips around. “I have been nothing but patient. Even after all you’ve done, I’ve been kind to you. For a second there, I even thought—” She roughly shakes her head. “But I am tired of reaching out to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Especially when they always think the worst of my intentions!”

“Sorry you gave me a fucking fear response, Jackie!” Shauna says. “Every time you’re nice, I’m expecting you to turn around and say something cruel to balance it out. Maybe even throw out a ‘that was a fun practice kiss, wasn’t it, Shipman?’”

Jackie shakes her head, laughing without humor. “Y’know what, Shauna.” She swings the door open. “We’re not in high school anymore. Someday you’re going to have to grow up and get the fuck over it.” She slams the door shut.

Shauna stands there for a few seconds before snapping out of it. She yanks the door open and sticks her head out. “Yeah, well—go to hell, Jackie!” she shouts.

Jackie doesn’t stop. She only waves carelessly over her shoulder. Shauna growls under her breath and slams the door shut again.