Page 41 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Guys, there’s just one problem,” I said hesitantly. “I didn’t bring golf clothes or shoes.”

“Don’t you worry,” Jean swished her hand at me. “I’ll have the club send over a few options for you. But are you sure you want us old folks joining you?”

“Of course,” Vincent insisted. “This trip isn’t just about me and Piper, it’s about our partnership.”

Jean melted, and Joe gave Vincent a nod of approval. “I like to hear that. I’m looking forward to embarrassing you on the course tomorrow.”

“Not so fast,” I said, starting to get into the spirit. “Why don’t we make this even better? Let’s switch up the teams. I’ll partner with you, Joe, and Jean can play with Vincent.”

Jean clapped her hands delightedly. “Oh, this is going to be so silly and fun!”

We finalized our timing, then Vincent and I headed back to our bungalow. I was so tired that when he took my hand, I automatically leaned against him.

“You were perfect,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Warmth spread through me. In this moment, everything was perfect. My fizzy buzz, the fat moon in a navy sky, the feeling of Vincent’s hand wrapped around mine…I couldn’t recall ever feeling this happy, and content.

And yet, even in this contentment, there was still a part of me hungry for something I wasn’t allowed to have. I glanced up at Vincent to remind myself that the man who was holding my hand was my boss and not my date.

“I’d say we both were. Masterful job getting out of horseback riding, by the way.” I glanced up at him and saw that he was smiling.

“Yeah. It’s a great trade-off: more time to woo the Sullivans, and you can show off your skills.”

“You better prepare to lose,” I giggled.

“And you better prepare to eat your words,” he parried.

We walked into the bungalow, and I suddenly felt wide awake.

Because it was bedtime. One-bed-for-two-people time.

“Listen, I can sleep on the couch,” Vincent said, his voice a little too casual, as if he’d read my mind. “I don’t want to make this awkward.”

I gestured to the open air beyond it. “Are you used to sleeping outside?”

“I mean, I have,” he shrugged. “I’ve done plenty of hardcore camping over the years. And it’s not like this would be roughing it.”

He gestured to the plush and cozy couch.

“Well…” I paused and realized, with a little flutter in my chest, that I sort of wanted him next to me. “It’s a big bed.”

He nodded. “Looks like a California king.”

“We could each have our own side,” I suggested.

My voice was steadier than my pulse.

“You sure you’re okay with it? This is probably an HR violation on some level.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a real employee,” I whispered. “Shh!”

Vincent chuckled, the sound warm and low, rolling over me like a wave. “Okay, it’s settled then. I’ll get changed and meet you, uh, I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

Vincent was overthinking the whole thing, as well. I ran to the gigantic closet the size of my room in my apartment and found one of the silk pajama sets I’d bought. This one was black, so it wouldn’t be see-through, with shorts and short sleeves so I wouldn’t be too hot.

I swiveled in the mirror to look at myself. Smooth and soft, the fabric clung to my skin just enough to feel daring. Yeah, it wasn’t lingerie, but it was still sexy.

Not that I wanted to look sexy for Vincent.