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Boss Me Dirty

Page 29

by Kai Lesy

My niece is going to be a terrifying CEO someday. I can’t wait.

Paloma licks frosting off her thumb. “So. Speaking of walks of shame.” She leans her elbows on the island and grins at me. “You never told me what happened after that asshole dumped you.”

My hand jerks. The ghost nun topper stabs straight through the perfect swirl of frosting.

Paloma shrieks. “Izzy. Seriously?”

“Nothing happened,” I mutter, righting the topper.

“You’re bright red. Something happened.” She grabs my arm. “Did you let your wild side out? Did you go home with someone?”

Nina abandons her piping bag entirely.

I last about five seconds under their combined stare. “Fine. Yes. I went upstairs with someone.”

Paloma squeals so loudly Nina covers her ears.

“Izzy did it! Izzy did it!” she sings, dancing around the island.

“Izzy did what?” Jai, Nina’s husband, comes in from the backyard with an armful of black and gray balloons. Nova trots in behind him with her face painted ghost-white.

“Izzy has a huge new client,” Nina says smoothly.

“Really?” Jai’s whole face lights up. “That’s amazing. Congratulations. Who is it?”

“I can’t say yet,” I hear myself answer. Which is true. And also the understatement of the century.

Jai gives me a side hug and takes Nova back outside. The second they’re gone, Paloma whirls on me.

“Spill. Was he hot?”

I don’t say a word. I don’t have to. The blush crawling up to the tops of my ears says plenty. Paloma whoops. Even Nina grins.

“Hey.” Nina puts a gentle hand on my arm. “I’m glad you did something for yourself. Was it good?”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “It was.”

“So who is he?” Paloma demands. “Are you seeing him again?”

I think of a dark suite and a gentle voice. Then I think of a man saying, You’re a contractor. A line item.

“No,” I say. “It was one night. That was the deal.”

It isn’t a lie. I see him every day. I’m just never going to sleep with him again.

“Girls?”

We all go quiet as Mom comes through the front door with a gift bag in one hand and her current boyfriend, Tony, lumbering behind her, shaved head, battered T-shirt, a scowl that matches hers.

“What kind of party is this for a four-year-old?” Mom asks, eyeing the black streamers. “Why not unicorns? Rainbows?”

“It’s what she wanted,” Nina says, her shoulders already up around her ears.

“And you just let the kid do whatever she wants?” Tony says.

“Tony,” Nina says curtly. It’s the closest thing to a greeting he’s going to get.

I step in before it escalates. “It’s Nova’s day, Mom. Why don’t you take her gifts outside? She’s been asking for her nana.”