Chapter 2 Lines in the sand

Celina Monroe had faced challenges before hard ones.Juggling two jobs while maintaining a perfect GPA, clawing her way into the elite world of marketing despite the whispers about her modest background. But working with Jake Hawthorne? This was a new level of torment.

She stalked into her office the next morning, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The glass walls offered a panoramic view of downtown Montgomery, but even the sunrise painting the sky in gold and pink couldn't soften her scowl.

Jake. Of all people.

Her assistant, Mia, poked her head in, her blonde ponytail bouncing. "You look like you're about to set someone on fire."

"I might," Celina muttered, tossing her bag onto her desk. "Guess who I'm collaborating with on the Kingsley project?"

Mia's eyes widened. "Please don't say-"

"Jake Hawthorne," Celina finished grimly.

Mia whistled low. "The Jake Hawthorne? College arch-nemesis, professional pain in the ass?"

"The very one," Celina said, sinking into her leather chair. "Kingsley thinks it'll be a brilliant idea to combine our proposals."

"Yikes." Mia plopped onto the guest chair, a cup of coffee in hand. "Think you can survive without throwing him out the window?"

"No promises." Celina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I can't let him win, Mia. This account could change everything."

Mia's expression softened. She knew what this meant. Celina had built her business from nothing-no family fortune, no cushy safety net. This wasn't just a job. It was proof that she deserved to be here.

"You've got this," Mia said firmly. "Jake may be slick, but he underestimates you."

Celina gave a humorless laugh. "Not this time."

The knock at the door was crisp. Too familiar. Celina steeled herself as Jake strolled in, every bit as composed as he had been the night before.

"Bright and early, Monroe," he said smoothly, leaning against the doorframe. "I didn't think you were a morning person."

"I make exceptions when necessary," she said dryly, meeting his gaze head-on. "Did you come to waste my time, or are we actually working?"

His smile didn't falter. "Straight to business. I like it." He dropped a thick folder onto her desk. "I outlined a few starting concepts. We might as well see if your ideas can keep up."

Arrogant ass.

Celina flipped open the folder, scanning the contents with practiced efficiency. Annoyingly, his work was sharp. Focused. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"Not bad," she said coolly. "Though your consumer engagement strategy is a little... dated."

Jake chuckled under his breath. "Is that the best insult you've got?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm saving the better ones for when you deserve them."

For the next two hours, the office buzzed with tension as they traded ideas, each pushing the other harder. To anyone watching, it would look like professional collaboration. But beneath the surface, their battle from college raged on-every comment was a test, every critique a challenge.

By noon, Celina's patience was hanging by a thread.

"We're not getting anywhere like this," she said, pushing back from her desk. "If we want Kingsley to take us seriously, we need to stop trying to one-up each other."

Jake tilted his head, as if considering her words. "Agreed. So, lunch?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Lunch," he repeated, like it was the most obvious solution in the world. "You do eat, don't you?"

"Not with you," she said automatically.

He only grinned. "Afraid you might like it?"

Her stomach twisted, but not from irritation. That was the worst part-he still got to her. And she hated herself for it.

"Fine," she snapped. "One hour. And if you try to pull any of your usual tricks, I'm leaving."

"Noted," he said, as smooth as ever.

---

The restaurant he chose was all sleek wood and low lighting, the kind of place where deals were made over expensive wine. Celina knew better than to be impressed.

"You didn't have to go overboard," she said, sliding into the leather booth across from him.

Jake leaned back, relaxed in a way that only someone born into privilege could be. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

"Let me guess-you're going to charm me into doing things your way?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Would it work?"

"Not a chance."

His smile deepened. "Didn't think so."

For a moment, there was a lull as the waiter poured sparkling water. When they were alone again, his expression turned more serious.

"Why did you start your own firm?" he asked, the playful edge softening.

Celina hesitated. This wasn't a question she expected from him. "I got tired of people assuming I didn't belong," she admitted. "So, I built something no one could take away from me."

Jake studied her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. "I can respect that."

She shifted uncomfortably. It was easier when he was infuriating. This... whatever this was, felt dangerous.

"And what about you?" she asked, needing to turn the focus. "Why the family business? I thought you wanted to get out of your father's shadow."

He exhaled, something unreadable flickering across his face. "Let's just say proving myself became more important than leaving."

There it was-a crack in his perfect facade. And against her better judgment, she wanted to press deeper.

"You could do anything," she said quietly. "Why this?"

His gaze locked with hers, the air between them thickening. "Maybe I like a challenge."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"You love it," he said, his voice low.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for one terrifying second, she wondered if maybe he was right. But she couldn't afford to get distracted.

Not by him.

She set her glass down with a decisive click. "If we're doing this, we do it on equal footing. No tricks."

"Deal," Jake said without hesitation. "But be warned, Monroe-I don't play fair."

"Neither do I," she shot back, lifting her chin.

And for the first time since this mess started, she thought that maybe-just maybe-she could win.