She Clung to a Stranger at the Party to Avoid Her Ex — Not Knowing He Was the Billionaire Boss
The Unexpected Human Shield
Madison Baker clutched her champagne flute with trembling fingers, scanning the crowded charity gala for an escape route. Across the ballroom, her ex-fiance Daniel Winters had just walked in with his new girlfriend draped on his arm.
Six months hadn’t been enough time to erase the humiliation of finding him in bed with her former assistant. Now they were heading straight toward the bar where she stood frozen.
“Breathe,” Madison whispered to herself.
“Just act natural.”
But panic surged through her body. She couldn’t face him. Not tonight, when her design firm was finally gaining traction after the messy split that had nearly bankrupted her both financially and emotionally.
This charity event for children’s art education programs was her first real networking opportunity since starting over. She couldn’t afford another public meltdown.
In desperation, Madison scanned the crowd and spotted a tall man standing alone near a marble column. His back was to her, but something about his confident posture made her decision immediate.
She downed her champagne in one gulp, set the glass on a passing waiter’s tray, and made her move.
“There you are,” Madison exclaimed with practiced brightness, sliding her arm through the stranger’s and leaning into him with casual familiarity.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The man stiffened momentarily before turning to face her. Madison’s breath caught in her throat.
His eyes were an unsettling shade of blue, like deep water on a clear day, and they were now studying her with amused curiosity.
“Have you now?” he responded, his voice low and smooth.
A slight smile played at the corner of his lips. Madison glanced over her shoulder. Daniel was 30 feet away and getting closer.
“Please,” she whispered urgently.
“My ex is coming this way. Just play along for 5 minutes and I’ll explain everything.”
Understanding flickered in the stranger’s eyes. And without missing a beat, he shifted his position to face her more directly, effectively shielding her from view.
“Jackson Reed,” he offered, extending his hand formally despite their already intimate stance.
“Madison Baker,” she replied, relieved at his quick adaptation.
“Thank you for this. I swear I’m not crazy.”
“The juryy’s still out on that,” Jackson replied with a hint of humor.
“But I’m willing to hear your case.”
For the next several minutes, they engaged in a convincingly intimate conversation about nothing in particular.
Jackson played his role perfectly, occasionally touching her elbow or leaning in to whisper something that made her laugh genuinely.
He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and Madison found herself relaxing despite the circumstances.
“Is the threat still imminent?” he asked after a while, scanning the crowd casually.
“I think he’s moved to the other side of the room,” Madison replied, allowing herself a discreet glance around.
“But I should probably stay engaged a bit longer to be convincing.”
“By all means,” Jackson said, signaling a waiter for fresh drinks.
“Though I am curious what catastrophic event would occur if you actually faced this ex of yours.”
Madison’s smile faltered.
“Nothing catastrophic, just humiliating. He left me for my assistant 6 months ago.”
“Tonight was supposed to be my triumphant return to society, not a reminder of being betrayed and dumped.”
Jackson’s expression sobered.
“His loss, clearly.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I know you’re resourceful in a crisis,” he replied with a grin that transformed his serious features.
“And creative with your solutions.”
The champagne and Jackson’s easy manner had Madison feeling more relaxed than she had in months. For a brief moment, she forgot why she’d approached him in the first place.
“So what brings you to this event?” she asked.
“Are you a patron of the arts?”
“Something like that,” he answered vaguely.
“I have a particular interest in education initiatives.”
“And you?”
“I’m an interior designer. My firm is doing some pro bono work redesigning classroom spaces for the foundation.”
She hesitated before adding, “It’s good publicity for a small business trying to rebuild.”
“Rebuild?” Jackson prompted.
Madison sighed.
“My ex-fiance and I had a joint design firm. When we split, I lost most of our clients to him. I’m essentially starting from scratch.”
Jackson studied her with newfound interest.
“That’s impressive. Most people would have given up.”
“Trust me, I considered it.”
Madison’s laugh held little humor.
“But design is the one thing I’m actually good at. I couldn’t let him take that too.”
Their conversation flowed naturally for the next half hour, moving from design to travel to books they’d both enjoyed.
Madison found herself genuinely enjoying Jackson’s company, almost forgetting they were strangers who’d met under false pretenses.
“Your ex has been watching us for the past 10 minutes,” Jackson mentioned casually while refilling her water glass.
Madison tensed.
“Really?”
“Don’t look now, but yes. And he doesn’t seem pleased.”
Jackson’s hand moved to the small of her back, a gesture that seemed protective rather than presumptuous.
“Good,” Madison said with more confidence than she felt.
“Maybe now he knows how it feels to be the one watching someone else.”
The evening progressed with Madison introducing Jackson to several potential clients. He played along flawlessly, occasionally mentioning her extraordinary eye for transformative spaces in a way that had business cards being pressed into her hands.
It wasn’t until they were sampling desserts near the chocolate fountain that Madison’s friend Abigail pulled her aside.
“Who is that man you’ve been hanging on all night?” Abigail whispered excitedly.
“Just someone I met,” Madison replied evasively.
“Why?”
Abigail’s eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
“That’s Jackson Reed, as in Reed Enterprises, as in the company that just purchased the Harrington building downtown for their new headquarters.”
Madison felt the blood drain from her face.
“What?”
“He’s worth billions, Maddie. And rumor has it they’re looking for a design firm to handle the interior renovation.”
Abigail squeezed her arm.
“Please tell me you’ve been talking up your business.”
Madison’s mind raced. The Harrington building renovation was exactly the kind of high-profile project that could reestablish her reputation, and she’d been using its owner as a human shield against her ex.
“I need to go,” Madison mumbled, suddenly mortified by her earlier behavior.
When she returned to where she’d left Jackson, he was gone. Panic rose in her chest as she scanned the room, finally spotting him deep in conversation with the event organizer near the exit.
As if sensing her gaze, he looked up and their eyes met across the room. Madison felt an inexplicable pull toward him, just as her phone chimed with a notification.
A new email had arrived from Reed Enterprises with the subject line: “meeting request Harrington Building Project.”
Madison stared at her phone screen in disbelief, rereading the email for the fifth time. The message was brief but clear.
Reed Enterprises requested a meeting to discuss the Harrington building renovation project tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling slightly as reality sank in.
When she looked up again, Jackson Reed had vanished.
“Did you see where he went?” she asked Abigail, who was watching her with undisguised curiosity.
“His assistant came over and whispered something.”
“They left together.”
Abigail nudged Madison playfully.
“So what happened between you two? And don’t pretend it was nothing. I saw how he looked at you.”
Madison’s cheeks flushed.
“It’s not what you think. I used him to avoid Daniel and now I’ve been summoned to his office tomorrow morning.”
“You what?”
Abigail’s eyes widened comically.
“Madison Baker, did you seriously use one of the most powerful men in the city as your human shield?”
“I didn’t know who he was,” Madison protested, the magnitude of her faux pas hitting her full force.
“Oh god. I’ve probably ruined any chance at that contract before I even had one.”
“Or,” Abigail countered, “you made quite an impression. That email came awfully fast.”
The ride home to her small apartment was a blur of anxiety and wild speculation.
