Page 603 of Manhattan Bossholes

I squinted at the photo and focused on her hand. “Is she wearing…did you two get married?”

Cameron nodded slowly. “We did. That photo was from our honeymoon.” He let out a harsh laugh. “It lasted almost as long as our marriage: a three-week trip and a two-week marriage.” He reached over to take the photo from me, glancing at it quickly, then slipping it back in the cupboard.

My eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. When I realized she was just using me to make a point to her parents, I had it annulled. But really, we didn’t make sense together. We had an amazing time together when it was all new and fresh—and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I admit I got caught up in how damn good it felt being with her, which is why I proposed. But once we were on that honeymoon, spending all of our time together, we discovered we had nothing in common. We’d sit at the breakfast table and struggle to find things to talk about. I lost my head to love and paid the price.” Cameron paused to consider it. “Well, not really. The damage would’ve been much greater if I’d let the whole thing drag on. Better to cut my losses quickly.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I said, unsure of what else to say as I processed this new information about him. It sounded like he was talking about a business transaction, which left a sour feeling in my stomach.

“Well, that’s what I get for letting my heart rule my brain,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice, like it was common knowledge that falling in love would always end poorly. “Look at Tyler. Same thing happened to him, in a sense. He picked the wrong person, and she fucked him up in a dozen different ways. I can’t exactly blame all the problems with the second album on her—Tyler made some mistakes there, for sure—but she didn’t help, running him ragged with all the partying she wanted to do. Not to mention all the drugs she was into…and that she got him into, before leaving him behind with a load of addictions and a broken heart.”

I felt myself frowning at the revelations. Was that really how Cameron saw love—as something that tore people up and left them broken in the aftermath?

“Anyway, live and learn,” he said, gently closing the cupboard door and walking to the one I hadn’t checked. He pulled out a white bowl and held it up. “The pasta water is probably boiling—let’s get moving.”

I followed behind him, trying not to think too hard about what was happening between us. It was nothing more than a fake relationship with a little bit of good sex sprinkled on top. Incredible sex.

I needed to keep reminding myself of that fact, to keep the reins tight around my heart, because Cameron O’Connor wasn’t the type to make the same mistake twice.

As if falling in love could ever be considered a mistake.

16

CAMERON

Marketing had suggested taking Felicity to a popular Broadway show for the optics. Everything was for the optics, but not really, because the two of us were having more than just sanctioned fun.

I’d selected Hadestown since they were putting on a one-night-only original cast performance, and the tickets were basically impossible to get. Taking Felicity to the show sold the fantasy that I’d do anything her heart desired. While there was no happily ever after for the main characters Orpheus and Eurydice, the fact that the show centered on the power of love between the two was enough to make it the perfect romantic night out.

I’d seen my fair share of Broadway shows and could appreciate the artistry, but I never felt moved by what I saw on stage. This one was proving to be the exception. I stole a glance at Felicity as Orpheus charged into the chorus of “Wait for Me” and saw her eyes brimming. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the mechanics of the lights swinging dramatically above the stage and not the words of the song, because damn it, I was feeling it too. The devotion between the characters was palpable, and even though I knew enough about Greek mythology to know what happened next, I still held out hope for the two young lovers.

By the time the show ended, Felicity had tears streaming down her cheeks. I took her hand and brought it up to my lips as the cast took their bows. “Are you okay?”

She looked up at me with her bottom lip trembling. “That was the most beautiful and heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe it’ll turn out differently next time,” I said softly echoing the final hopeful lines of the show.

She smiled through her tears. “Maybe.”

I slung my arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight as we waded toward the exit with the rest of the crowd. We’d arrived late and our seats were right up front, so I was sure no one had a chance to photograph us, but now in the slow slog to the door there was ample opportunity to snag photos of us looking swoony and in love.

Felicity was so caught up by what we’d just watched that she had forgotten that we were also on stage that night.

“Hey,” I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Your mascara is running a little.”

“Oh no,” she whispered back in a panic. “Do I look terrible?” She swept her fingers beneath her eyes.

“You could never look terrible,” I admitted as I pulled a handkerchief out of my blazer pocket. “Allow me.”

As if that was her cue, Felicity snapped back into her role as co-conspirator. Her expression shifted to utter devotion as I gently swept the cloth along her cheeks.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. “You cleaning me up seems to be a thing, huh?”

I leaned down and kissed her on the nose. “I’m happy to take care of you, my darling.”

I could’ve sworn I heard a squeal from behind us.

The stirring inside me after the brief kiss had to be due to the emotional overload of the show and nothing more. What was going on with Felicity was an arrangement, a partnership that had morphed into a “colleagues with benefits” scenario.