Page 56 of Manhattan Bossholes

“This is delicious,” I said as dug into a Nutella-laced crepe. “You’re incredible.”

“Thanks for noticing,” he replied without even raising his eyes from his plate.

I kicked him under the table.

“Ow! What’s wrong with admitting my awesomeness?” he asked with his mouth full.

I considered it. “For you, nothing. It totally tracks.”

He paused. “Are you saying I’m an egomaniac?”

I held my hand up with my thumb and pointer finger an inch apart.

He shrugged and got back eating. “You’re incredible too—you just refuse to acknowledge it.”

The surprise compliment warmed my heart. “That was unexpected.”

“That’s my point; it shouldn’t be. You need to learn to own your awesomeness. You’re very talented.”

My bottom lip pouted out. “Aw. Thanks.”

“It’s true. You’re great at everything but parking.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed at him. “Of course you couldn’t just let me have my moment!”

“Not when it comes to parking,” he said as he downed more crepe. “But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

I was about to lean into what I assumed would be more pre-sex bantering when Vincent’s phone rang. He glanced at it and froze.

“It’s R&D,” he said slowly. “Calling me on a Saturday morning.”

“Does that mean good news or bad news?”

His expression went tight. “Let’s find out.”

Vincent answered the phone, and I hugged my knees to my chest, watching his face as he spoke to whoever had called. A tense, creased forehead. Listening intently.

Then, his face shifted into the most gleeful smile I’d ever seen.

“Dwayne, are you serious?”

He listened again as his smile got even wider.

“I knew you could do it! Hell yeah!” He punched the air. “Which method? Hot enfleurage? I would’ve sworn heliotrope was too delicate for it. Fuck yeah. You guys are rockstars!”

Vincent started pacing as he listened to the details of the victory.

“Can’t even tell you how excited I am. Thanks for making it happen, D.,” he said, then hung up and stared out at the horizon.

“You did it,” I cheered. “Congrats!”

“They did it,” he said as he shifted his focus back to me. “All I did was hire a great team and push them. This is their victory.”

I thought back to the New York Times profile about Vincent. He’d been open about wanting to distill the flower but just as clear about the fact that it was his team doing the work under his guidance. It was good to see proof positive that the man could share a victory.

“Our day is off to a phenomenal start,” Vincent said. “We should celebrate.”

“Oh?” I tipped my head at him. “What were you thinking?”