Page 108 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Hey, maybe we can get her to sign on for a two-for-one?” I suggested.

“Please,” Vincent said with an eye roll. “I’m dealing with enough personalities; I don’t need to add a high-maintenance influencer to my list of headaches.”

The plane started to taxi.

“How long is this flight?” I asked.

Vincent glanced at his phone. “Uh, about six hours, give or take. Pilot said we’ve got some strong headwinds.”

I frowned. “They must be really bad, because I thought it was a five-hour trip?”

“Yeah, it’s really windy,” he said. “Plus, he said we might have to circle a few times once we get there. California celebrities, all vying to get in and out of the airport,” he shrugged.

I had every intention of working during the long flight, but the combination of a full meal, a few glasses of red wine, and the white noise of the engine lulled me into a deep sleep. I didn’t wake up until my ears started popping from the descent.

“We’re here?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and stretching.

“We sure are,” Vincent replied. “You were totally conked out. I’m glad you got to rest up, because it’s going to be a busy week.”

I shot him a look. “Week? Check your calendar—we’re only here for forty-eight hours.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he said with a nod, looking inexplicably mischievous.

The cabin crew came out to open the door, and I gathered my things.

“Piper,” Vincent said.

I paused to glance at him. “What’s up?”

“Welcome to Barcelona.”

I froze. “What?”

He gestured to the open door, and I walked toward it in a daze.

When I looked outside, it became clear that I was most definitely not in Santa Barbara.

“What…what’s going on?” I asked him. “I have a meeting!”

He smiled at me as he walked closer. “You have a meeting next week. Your team and I got together to pull this off behind your back. Everyone agrees you’ve been working too hard, and you need a vacation.”

He had a point. I’d been putting in twelve- and thirteen-hour days lately, but I was loving every second of it. But so had Darcy.

“Wait, is Darcy really sick?” I asked. “Because she might need me to take care of her.”

Vincent pulled me into a hug. “Darcy is a phenomenal actress. She is not sick; she’s currently at a spa in Arizona courtesy of yours truly, because she deserves a break, too.”

“I…I don’t understand. You really did all of this?”

“You should know by now, anything for you,” I murmured in her ear. “You dream it, I’ll make sure you get it. You mentioned you’d always wanted to visit Spain, so…off we go.”

I walked off the jet in a daze, still trying to square what I thought I thought I was doing with the new reality awaiting me just beyond the tarmac.

“But I didn’t pack right! I have weird, influencer-y outfits in my bag, so she’ll like me.”

Vincent took my hand. “Taken care of. You actually have an exquisite collection of vacation clothing from Branson Designs that’s so elegant, no one will know you’re a tourist.”

I turned to where the crew was unloading and saw an extra suitcase that matched my set.