Updated Mar 13, 2026 • ~8 min read
I’m elbow-deep in fabric swatches when Holden texts me.
Holden: “Lunch at my office? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Me: “Who?”
Holden: “New client. Thought it would be good for her to meet you. The whole ‘happily married’ image and all.”
Me: “Her?”
Holden: “Autumn Hayes. Olympic gymnast. Just signed her this morning.”
Olympic gymnast. Female. Named Autumn.
I tell myself the twinge in my chest is not jealousy.
Me: “Sure. What time?”
Holden: “Noon? I’ll have lunch brought in.”
Me: “See you then.”
I stare at my phone.
This is fine. This is totally fine. Holden is a sports agent. Most of his clients are probably attractive athletes. This is part of his job.
And I’m his wife. His real wife, as of three days ago.
There’s nothing to be jealous about.
Except I’m definitely jealous.
Holden’s office is in a sleek high-rise downtown. All glass and steel and expensive furniture. The receptionist recognizes me from the gallery photos—apparently we’re actually famous now—and waves me through with a knowing smile.
“He’s in the conference room. Third door on the left.”
I follow her directions and find the conference room. Through the glass walls, I can see Holden sitting at the head of the table.
And across from him is possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
She’s tiny—can’t be more than five feet tall—but perfectly proportioned. Long blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. Flawless skin. The kind of athletic body that comes from years of professional training.
And she’s laughing at something Holden said, her hand resting on his arm.
The jealousy isn’t a twinge anymore. It’s a roar.
I push open the door.
Both of them look up.
“Tessa!” Holden’s face lights up. He immediately stands and crosses to me, dropping a kiss on my cheek. “Perfect timing. Autumn, this is my wife, Tessa.”
The blonde woman—Autumn—smiles and extends her hand. “So nice to meet you! Holden’s been telling me all about you.”
“Has he?” I shake her hand. Her grip is firm. Strong.
“He showed me the photos from the gallery opening. You two are adorable.”
“Thanks.”
Adorable. I don’t want to be adorable. I want to be intimidating and claim-staking and very clearly off-limits.
“Tessa’s an event planner,” Holden says, his hand settling on my lower back. “One of the best in the city.”
“That’s so cool!” Autumn’s enthusiasm seems genuine. Which somehow makes me dislike her more. “I need someone like you. I’m doing this fundraiser gala in a few months for youth gymnastics programs and I have no idea where to start.”
“I could help with that,” I hear myself say.
“Really? That would be amazing!”
Holden looks at me, surprised. “You sure? I know you’re swamped with the society wedding.”
“I can handle both.”
What am I doing? I’m already buried in work. I don’t have time to take on a new client.
But the thought of Autumn meeting with Holden regularly, without me there, makes my chest tight.
“Perfect!” Autumn claps her hands together. “This is fate. I get an amazing agent AND an amazing event planner. I’m so lucky.”
The food arrives—some kind of fancy salad situation from the restaurant downstairs. We eat and talk about Autumn’s career, her Olympic medal, her plans for the future.
She’s nice. Genuinely nice. Funny and self-deprecating and clearly talented.
I want to hate her.
I can’t.
“So how did you two meet?” Autumn asks, spearing a tomato. “Holden said through your brother?”
Here we go. The story again.
“Yeah. My brother Noah is Holden’s best friend. We met at one of his parties.”
“And it was love at first sight?”
Holden laughs. “More like annoyance at first sight.”
“He pulled my pigtails,” I add.
“I was seventeen and stupid.”
“You’re still stupid.”
“See?” Holden grins at Autumn. “This is our dynamic. She insults me. I pretend to be offended.”
“It’s cute,” Autumn says. “My parents are like that. Married forty years and still bickering like teenagers.”
Something about the way she says it—warm and genuine—makes the jealousy ease slightly.
She’s not flirting with Holden. She’s just… friendly.
“How long have you been married?” Autumn asks.
“Two weeks,” Holden says.
“Aw, you’re still in the honeymoon phase! That’s so sweet.”
“It’s something,” I mutter.
Holden’s hand finds mine under the table. Squeezes.
The rest of lunch passes quickly. Autumn talks about her training schedule, upcoming competitions, her hopes for the fundraiser. I take notes about the gala, already mentally planning themes and venues.
When we’re done, Autumn hugs both of us. “Thank you so much for lunch! And Tessa, I’ll email you about the gala. We should meet this week if you have time.”
“Sounds good.”
“Great! See you both later!” She bounces out of the conference room with the energy of someone who does backflips for a living.
The door closes behind her.
Holden turns to me. “So. That went well.”
“Did it?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who volunteered to plan her event.”
I busy myself gathering my things. “She needed help.”
“Tessa.”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
I do. Reluctantly.
Holden is smiling. Amused.
“You were jealous.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
“Why would I be jealous? She’s just a client.”
“A client who’s a gorgeous Olympic athlete.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Liar.”
I huff. “Fine. Maybe I noticed. And maybe I didn’t love the way she was touching your arm earlier.”
“She touched my arm for two seconds.”
“Two seconds too long.”
Holden’s smile widens. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“I am not cute. I am intimidating and claim-staking.”
“Did you just say claim-staking?”
“Maybe.”
He steps closer. His hands settle on my waist. “For the record, I have zero interest in Autumn Hayes.”
“She’s an Olympic medalist.”
“Don’t care.”
“She’s gorgeous.”
“Don’t care.”
“She can do a backflip.”
“Still don’t care.” He leans down until his forehead touches mine. “You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m married to the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. She’s smart and talented and funny and takes zero shit from anyone. Especially me. And when she gets jealous, she volunteers to plan charity galas just to keep an eye on me.”
“That’s not why I—”
“Tessa.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”
He kisses me. Soft and sweet and thorough.
When he pulls back, I’m breathless.
“Better?” he asks.
“Getting there.”
“What can I do to make it all the way better?”
“Dinner. Tonight. Just us. No work talk. No clients. No lying about our relationship.”
“Done.”
“And tell me I’m prettier than the Olympic gymnast.”
“You’re prettier than every Olympic gymnast combined.”
“Even the male ones?”
“Especially the male ones.”
I laugh despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
The word “love” hangs in the air.
He said it casually. Easily. But my heart still skips.
“I should get back to work,” I say quickly.
“Yeah. Me too.” But he doesn’t let go of my waist. “Tonight though. Seven o’clock. I’m taking you somewhere nice.”
“How nice?”
“Wear that dress. The black one from the gallery.”
“That’s very nice.”
“You’re worth it.”
He kisses me one more time and releases me.
I float out of his office on a cloud of endorphins and residual jealousy.
The receptionist gives me a knowing look. “Have a good lunch?”
“The best,” I say honestly.
My phone buzzes as I’m walking back to my car.
Autumn Hayes: “Hi Tessa! This is Autumn. Holden gave me your number. Hope that’s okay! Want to meet Wednesday to discuss the gala? Coffee at 10?”
I stare at the message.
She seems nice. Genuinely nice.
And I acted like a territorial psycho at lunch.
Me: “Wednesday at 10 works great! Looking forward to it.”
Autumn: “Perfect! Also, you and Holden are SO CUTE together. I’m obsessed.”
Me: “Ha, thanks!”
Autumn: “No seriously. The way he looks at you? GOALS. My boyfriend never looks at me like that.”
Me: “You have a boyfriend?”
Autumn: “Yeah! Marcus. He’s a physical therapist. Been together three years. Probably getting engaged soon. 🤞”
Oh.
OH.
She has a boyfriend.
She was never a threat.
I am an idiot.
Me: “That’s amazing! Congrats!”
Autumn: “Thanks! Anyway, see you Wednesday!”
I get in my car and immediately text Wren.
Me: “I just got jealous of Holden’s client for NO REASON.”
Wren: “Oh honey. You’ve got it bad.”
Me: “She has a boyfriend!”
Wren: “Did you know that when you were being jealous?”
Me: “No.”
Wren: “Then your jealousy was totally valid.”
Me: “I volunteered to plan her charity gala just so I could keep tabs on her.”
Wren: “That’s actually hilarious.”
Me: “I’m losing my mind.”
Wren: “No, you’re falling in love. There’s a difference.”
I stare at her message.
Falling in love.
Am I falling in love with Holden Reid?
My fake husband who’s becoming my real husband who bought me the perfect ring and cooks me dinner and looks at me like I’m the only person in the room?
Maybe.
Probably.
Definitely.
Oh God.
I’m in so much trouble.
END OF CHAPTER 8
Reader Reactions