Bye-Bye Jerk, Hello Mr. Right
Hello 664

Chapter 664

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"Male models? What's going on with you lately? First, you're trying to buy a bar, and now you're planning some kind of male model show?" Ron sounded equal parts floored and suspicious after I pitched my idea.

"I'm just having fun. Can't you tell?" I replied, laughing to brush it off.

But Ron wasn't buying it. He squinted at me, his detective mode fully activated.

Whatever. I rolled my eyes and launched into my pitch. "Okay, so our company's doing that light and music festival soon, right? Why not go big with a live human light show? Imagine male greeters or models wearing LED-lit outfits-total showstopper vibes." Ron raised a brow. "A human light show? That's... bold. I'll give you points for creativity."

I grinned. "Exactly! So, you think it'll work? Cool. Start building a team to make it happen."

He gave me that are-you-kidding-me look. "Ms. Kay, you think this is, what, grabbing clothes off a store rack? This would need custom designs, production, and oh yeah we're already on a time crunch."

I gave him my best pretty please face. "I know, Ron. That's why I need you. You're the genius who can pull it off."

"Your pretty face's not gonna cut it," he shot back, shutting me down before throwing in a casual, soul-crushing zinger. "Unless Hayden were here-maybe he'd make it happen."

Oof. That hit harder than I expected.

"Well, I'll figure it out myself," I said, stubborn as ever, my competitive streak kicking in. Before Ron could get another word in, I spun on my heel and stormed off.

"Hey! Wait!" he called after me, but yeah, no chance. I was done.

Anyone watching could tell I was fuming. Apparently, Ron caught on, too, because next thing I knew, he was jogging to catch up.

"Alright, alright," he said, his tone way softer now. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought Hayden into it, okay? We'll go with your human light show idea. If anyone's got a problem, I'll deal with it." Since he actually apologized-and, like, meant it-I decided to let it go. "Thanks," I muttered.

***

Back at my desk, I tried diving into work, but my eyelids had other plans.

It was giving serious textbook syndrome-you're fine until the second you try to focus, and bam, instant nap mode.

Two sleepless nights had officially caught up with me, and honestly, I wasn't about to fight it. I ditched my desk, kicked off my shoes, and crashed on the office couch,

No clue how long I was out when I got jolted awake.

"Ms. Kay, wake up. I need your help with something," Ron's voice cut through the fog in my brain.

I blinked, heart pounding from the suddenness, still feeling half-dead. Without moving, I mumbled, "What now?"

"There's someone flying in for our new project. Big deal. Their flight lands at 4:30. You've gotta get to the airport, Ron said, checking his watch.

11

I stayed flat on the couch, feeling like sleep had actually drained me instead of recharging. Even my voice sounded Chapter 664

limp. "Why don't you go?"

Pretty sure I set a record for employee sass just then.

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"My girlfriend got hurt," Ron said, guilt all over his face. "She just called, and I need to check on her."

He stepped forward like he was gonna drag me up, but I didn't move. Instead, I groaned, "Fine. I'll go."

"I'll send you their info and a photo. Look it over on the way," he said, already backing toward the door. "Okay," I muttered.

"Don't just 'okay' me, and don't fall asleep again. You don't have time," he warned, half-panicked. "Got it, go!" I waved him off like shooing a fly.

"This partner is really important," Ron added before finally leaving.

Once he was gone, I closed my eyes for just a second, trying to quiet the nerves buzzing in my chest.

I didn't fall back asleep-I just needed a second to shake off the weird pit in my stomach.

It wasn't the usual post-nap haze either. This was... different. Like my chest felt empty, and my heartbeat was all wrong.

Okay, maybe chill out?' Still, with all the stories about random heart issues these days, I made a mental note to know. ask Nate for a quick checkup later. Better safe than, well... you

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