Dancing Barefoot by Amber Lea Easton

him. You don't know him as well as you think you do."
    " About the artwork, the answer is no."
    Miranda dropped a gleaming advertisement for Jacques' showing on the desk. "Four paintings, that's it. You two together hosting the show. Invite your partners. They'll be impressed. I didn't get where I am by luck, Jessie. I know what I'm doing. I'll expect them on Thursday."
    "I thought you said three paintings."
    "Three it is! I knew you'd be smart about this." Miranda winked in that arrogant way her brother did, must be a family trait.
    When she'd left, Jessica sank back into her chair, gaze lingering on the door. It didn't do much to have a door if people still showed up out of no where whenever it suited them. Gritting her teeth, she forced her attention back on the work. She had to meet with the engineers and couldn't screw up these numbers. 
    Bully, that's what Miranda Jenkins was, a bully in black designer clothes.
    She went to the meeting, determined to embrace this achievement in her life even if no one else would. To hell with everyone and their chatter about Italy, paintings, passion, and Jacques Sinclair.
    "We want Marc to work with you on this," Charlie said once she'd presented her changes.
    Sighing, she tapped her fingers on the surface of the table. "Why? I think we have a good team lined up as it is."
    Charlie cleared his throat and looked at the other two partners who quietly exited the room, leaving them alone. "You're an associate partner now, Jessica, so I trust you can remain professional about this."
    "Of course I can." She stopped tapping the table.
    "There are rumors about Marc Jenkins and his inappropriate behavior with some of the staff during off hours. None of the other partners want to work with him, to be frank. We allowed him to pitch because Sincore asked for him specifically, apparently he had some family connections there. We know you two are close. Do you think he can work with you without it being a problem?"
    "Why would there be a problem?" Blindsided by the news that there had been trouble brewing for Marc at the firm, she cursed herself for working so hard and ignoring company gossip.
    "You're technically his supervisor." Charlie watched her closely for any reaction.
    She nodded at the news and allowed herself to think before responding.
    "We will tell him tomorrow , that won't be your responsibility. Sanders will be the one to tell him that he is being reallocated to your team."
    "Reallocated," she repeated the word, knowing it meant a lot more than what the definition implied. One partner rejected Marc's work and she was his last shot at the firm. Swallowing the concern over her friend, she forced herself to think like a boss. "I am confident Marc and I can work together. I'm happy to have him on my team."
    "Good." Charlie smiled and gathered the papers in front of him into a pile. "I knew we could count on you to be a team player."
    Everything that Marc had warned her about concerning reputation and fallout echoed in her mind. Little did he know his own reputation was getting him screwed. Maybe being labeled Boston's Most Eligible Bachelor in Boston Magazine had worked against him after all. Well, that and his cocky attitude.
    Back in her office, she made a point of standing in front of the window and soaking it up. This was hers , all hers. She reveled in satisfaction. No way in hell she'd jeopardize it.
    She sat back at her desk and poured her energy into the work in front of her.  Her hands trembled, causing her to toss out yet another sketch. Fine-tuning the Sincore project, tweaking, and she couldn't draw a straight line. Figures. Damn nerves. Marc's words echoed in her mind..." you'll make a fool of yourself."
    How often had she heard that as a kid? Whenever she'd done anything creative or achieved any success, the threat of making a fool of herself would come up. Not now. Look at how far she'd come. There was nothing foolish about any of it.
    The pressure was on to start