The Arrangement

Chapter 29

The view from Jax's penthouse window didn't whisper — it declared. Los Angeles stretched wide and unbothered, while glass towers for blocks caught the morning's fractured light. From the snaking morning traffic of Olympic Boulevard to the small businesses opening their doors, it was a reminder that while most people were just waking up, some — like Jax — were already ten steps ahead.

She sat poised at the kitchen table in a soft navy wrap set that probably cost more than most rent checks, sipping from a tall glass of her signature Irish sea moss and almond smoothie. The green tint clashed fantastically with her vivid red hair. She scrolled through her iPad with one hand, the other resting lightly on her temple.

"This smoothie is disgusting in the most luxurious way," Jax said, her tone dry but pleased. "Tastes like cold algae and ascension. I love it."

Behind her, Marlena was foraging through the pantry with a keen eye, shopping for a much-needed item. "Where do you keep the onions?"

"I don't," Jax said without looking up. "But someone does. Check the refrigerator or the herb drawer. Chef has systems."

"Marlena checked the well-stocked fridge and yanked open the crisper. "Bingo."

She emerged holding a single yellow onion and a container of mixed fruit that caught her eye.

"I forgot to grab one yesterday," she said, slipping it into her oversized tote. "And the berries look too good to ignore."

"Glad that I could serve your needs," Jax said, straightening in her chair and finally setting the iPad down. "We've got an hour. Ninety minutes, max?"

"Where do we start? Business or personal?"

"You said you had something to tell me that you couldn't get into over the phone. It sounds like my kind of conversation," Jax said, her tone playful but pointed, her smoothie halfway gone, and her curiosity piqued.

Marlena sat across from Jax, who looked at her like she was waiting for a headline, peeling the lid off the fruit. She wasn't going to tell Jax about John. That wasn't the kind of news she was prepared to say out loud, especially not now. It was too soon. Too complicated. And entirely unjustifiable.

Instead, she opened the fruit, picked up a strawberry with the tiny wooden fork, and smiled. "I'm actually feeling centered right now."

Jax narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued. "Define centered."

"David's treatments are going well. We've been... steadier," Marlena said, choosing her words carefully. "There's less tension, fewer spats. I think we're both in a good place."

Jax nodded slowly. "That's a big shift."

"It is," Marlena said, exhaling softly. "And Just M.E. is taking off in ways I didn't even plan for. The new linen collection sold out in forty-eight hours."

Jax gave a low whistle. "Look at you."

"And the ratings for the show," Marlena added, her voice lifting with a note of pride, "highest they've ever been. I feel like I've finally hit my stride. Everything's aligning."

"Wow." Jax leaned back in her chair and gave her a slow, approving nod. "I'm glad that things are going your way. Now what couldn't we discuss over the phone?"

The silence stretched between them for a moment before Marlena's expression shifted, her fingers tightening around the small fork.

"John and I finally talked. An open conversation... about our past," said Marlena.

"You mean the past you made a pact never to discuss?" asked Jax.

"That would be the one." Marlena's words came out measured, careful. She picked at the fresh berries in her container, suddenly fascinated by a particularly plump blueberry. The last thing she needed was for Jax to read between the lines and discover that she and John had crossed every boundary they'd set for themselves. Twice.