Updated Mar 22, 2026 • ~5 min read
Chapter 3: The Pitch Meeting
MAREN
The Hartley account. Biggest client either firm had competed for in decades. $50 million contract. Three-year exclusive deal.
Whoever won this got industry dominance. Whoever lost didn’t recover.
Ross Agency needed this. We’d been preparing for months. Perfect pitch. Perfect presentation. Perfect everything.
Uncle Conrad was obsessed. “This is our chance to bury King Industries once and for all.”
The Kings. Our family’s sworn enemies. Forty years of bitter rivalry.
I’d never actually met one. We avoided each other at events. Opposite sides of every conference room. But today? Today we were pitching head-to-head. Ross vs. King. Final showdown.
I was nervous. Not because of the pitch, I’d practiced a thousand times. But because I was eight weeks pregnant. Nauseous. Exhausted. Emotional. Not ideal conditions for the biggest presentation of my life.
We arrived at Hartley headquarters early. Sleek conference room. Wall of windows. Manhattan skyline. Our team set up. Me. Conrad. Sienna. Two junior associates.
“They’re not here yet,” Conrad said, looking around. He meant the Kings.
“Good. Let them be late. Shows disrespect.”
But they weren’t late.
The door opened. Five people walked in. Jasper King led them. Tall. Dark suit. Commanding presence.
I glanced at him. Then froze.
No. No no no no no.
Blue-gray eyes. Sharp jawline. That confident walk.
It was him.
Miami. The hotel bar. The stranger. The father of my baby.
Was JASPER KING.
My stomach dropped. Heart racing. Couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening.
His eyes scanned our team. Professional. Detached. Then they landed on me.
He froze. Just for a second. Micro-expression. Recognition. Shock. Calculation.
He knew. He remembered me. And now he knew I was a Ross.
Fuck. FUCK.
“Shall we begin?” The Hartley rep, Caroline, gestured to the table.
We sat. Ross team on one side. King team on the other. I was directly across from Jasper.
He was staring at me. Not obviously. But I felt it.
Conrad was talking. Introduction. Pleasantries. Bullshit.
I wasn’t listening. I was trying not to panic.
Jasper King. The man I’d slept with. The man whose baby I was carrying. Was my family’s sworn enemy.
This was a nightmare.
“Ms. Ross?” Caroline’s voice broke through. “You’re presenting first?”
Right. The pitch.
I stood. Shakily. “Yes. Thank you.”
I launched into the presentation. Autopilot. I’d rehearsed this so many times I could do it in my sleep. But I felt Jasper’s eyes on me. The entire time. Watching. Analyzing. Remembering.
I finished. Caroline asked questions. I answered. Professionally. Competently.
Then it was King Industries’ turn.
Jasper stood.
God, he was even more attractive than I remembered. Commanding. Confident. Dangerous.
He presented flawlessly. Charismatic. Persuasive. Smart. Our pitches were evenly matched. This was going to come down to details. To follow-ups. To whoever wanted it more.
When he finished, Caroline smiled. “Excellent. Both presentations were outstanding. We’ll need a week to deliberate. We’ll be in touch.”
Meeting over.
Everyone stood. Shook hands. Professional smiles.
Jasper extended his hand to Conrad. “Good to see you, Conrad.”
“Wish I could say the same, King.”
Tension. Thick and hostile.
Then Jasper turned to me. “Ms. Ross.”
He extended his hand.
I had to shake it. Had to touch him.
His hand was warm. Firm. Familiar.
Our eyes met. And I saw it. The same shock I felt. The same “oh shit” realization.
“Mr. King.” My voice was steady. A miracle.
“Pleasure,” he said. But his eyes said: We need to talk.
I pulled my hand away.
Back at the office, I locked myself in my bathroom. Hyperventilating.
Sienna found me. “What happened? The pitch went great…”
“He’s the father.”
“What?”
“Jasper King. He’s the father. The man from Miami. It’s him.”
Sienna’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“HOLY SHIT.”
“I KNOW.”
She sat on the floor beside me. “Okay. Okay. Let’s think. Does he know you’re pregnant?”
“No. But he knows we slept together. He recognized me.”
“Did anyone else notice?”
“I don’t think so. We played it cool.”
“What are you going to do?”
I didn’t know. I had no fucking idea.
“Nothing. I’m going to do nothing. We’ll avoid each other. Win this account. Never speak again.”
“Maren…”
“It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”
But it wasn’t fine.
Because my phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Text message: “We need to talk. Meet me. Tonight. 8 PM. Bryant Park. Come alone. – JK”
He had my number. Somehow. And he was demanding to meet.
Sienna read over my shoulder. “Are you going?”
I should have said no. Should have ignored him. Should have protected myself and my baby from this disaster.
But…
“Yes. I’m going.”
Because this conversation was inevitable. And I’d rather have it on my terms. Before he figured out I was pregnant. Before this got even more complicated.
If that was even possible.
END OF CHAPTER 3
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