Page 139 of Manhattan Bossholes

“There is no rest of the story,” I insisted. “We were kids—it didn’t work out. Nothing surprising about that.” And no need to go into the rest of it. I wasn’t exactly proud of how things had played out, but it was over and done with. No need to dredge all of that up again now. Besides, what high school relationship actually lasts?

“You’re sure there’s no rekindling of old feelings?” Trent teased.

“Trust me. It’s ancient history.”

Nana Dee glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Uh-huh,” she said, skeptical.

“You spend a hell of a lot of time checking out that ancient history,” Dominic pointed out. “And she spends nearly as much time checking out you.”

“That’s not the p—wait, what does she do?”

They all laughed at me.

“Are you blushing?” Vincent asked.

“Shut the hell up.” These were my closest friends. It was harder to lie to them than it was to lie to myself. Did Cora affect me? Yeah, maybe. She was incredibly attractive. But could I stand being around her for more than ten minutes without needing a stiff drink? Absolutely not. Still, the thought of her checking me out, liking what she saw…I couldn’t pretend it was a bad thought.

“Daddy, can I go look in the greenhouse?” Hailey asked, pulling at Dominic’s sleeve.

“Maybe when we’re all done eating,” he said.

I jumped up, spotting my out. “Come on, Hailey. I’ll take you to look at the greenhouse.”

“Oh wait!” Dee said, getting to her feet. “Let’s do the cake first.”

“There’s cake?” Trent teased.

Dee nudged him as she passed. “Of course there’s cake. You know that.”

“Cake!” Hailey cried, content to remain at the table now.

I sighed. Oh well, at least the attention was off me. Plus, cake! I pulled out my chair to sit down again, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Dee stumble. Next thing I knew, she was on the ground.

“Nana Dee!” Trent said, bounding to his feet.

I reached her first, crouching next to her. “Jesus, Dee, are you okay?”

“I’m all right,” she croaked, attempting to roll over. “I just…I tripped over my own feet. I’m okay.”

“Sit up slowly,” Trent said as we helped her adjust her position.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” I asked. “Did you bang your head when you hit the ground?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Don’t fret.”

Don’t fret? “You broke your fall with your arm,” I said. “We should at least check to make sure nothing’s broken or sprained or⁠—”

“It’s not a big deal,” Dee said, but Trent was already gingerly pushing up the sleeve of her cashmere sweater.

“Have you fallen recently?” he asked, pointing out old bruises. “What is all this?”

Dee bit her lip, her brow furrowing. “It’s nothing. Really, I⁠—”

“Dee,” Vincent said as he came to stand by my side. “Please don’t lie to us.”

“Oh, all right, maybe I’ve had a few more dizzy spells lately,” she admitted, clicking her tongue, trying to sound dismissive even as she avoided eye contact with all of us.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Trent asked. I could hear the growl in his voice. I knew he wasn’t angry though; he was worried.