Page 62 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Honey…” Nana Dee reached out to take my hands. “Don’t let men like him get to you. You have so many gifts, and he can’t take credit for any of them!”

“Exactly,” Vincent said. He was staring at me, taking me in to make sure I wasn’t going to let Prentiss ruin the day. “I think we all agree that you’re exceptional, Piper. Bright, creative, dedicated…if that asshole doesn’t see it, then he’s blind and stupid.”

A stray tear slid down my cheek despite my attempts to choke down my emotions. I hated that Prentiss could still get to me.

“Hey, hey,” Richard said soothingly. “We all know how special you are, Piper. And we’re going to be cheering you on as you keep winning. You can do anything you set your mind to, I’m sure of it!”

“Thank you,” I said softly. It sure felt good being on the receiving end of some fatherly praise.

“Agreed, and you know what’s next on Piper’s list?” Vincent asked.

“Securing some bacon-wrapped scallops?” I sniffled and mumbled.

I sort of wished he’d wrap his arm around me, but he was focused on something, or someone, across the room.

Vincent chuckled. “Close. Next up is making her biggest dream yet come true, with a little help from my friend.”

He pointed through the crowd, and I strained to see what he meant.

“It’s time to meet Mercedes.”

My heart stopped as I scanned the crowd to find her. “What? Now? She’s here?”

“Mercedes Horan?” Nana Dee asked. “I just read a piece about her in Time Magazine, she’s a force to be reckoned with!”

“She is indeed, and it’s time for this firecracker to meet that flame,” Vincent said. He finally focused on me. “Are you ready?”

“Oh no, absolutely not,” I backed away from him, shaking my head. “Right now? I’m a mess! And I’m not in the right headspace to pitch after all that bullshit. Oh my god, I’ve had three glasses of champagne! I’m wasted!”

“Piper,” he said with a patient smile. “Your first glass was five hours ago, and you’ve been snacking to soak it up—you’re perfectly coherent. Besides, you pitched the concept to me without preparation, so I know you can perform under pressure. This is exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You can do this. I believe in you.”

His words washed through me, giving me a badly needed dose of courage and confidence that made the sting of Prentiss’s cruel words disappear.

“You’re right,” I finally said, straightening my back. “This is the perfect moment, whether I like it or not. It’ll look casual.”

“Perfect moment for what?” Nana Dee asked as she glanced between us.

“We’ll tell you everything once we get our yes from Mercedes,” Vincent answered.

He reached out his hand, and I took it.

“Good luck, whatever it is,” Richard called after us. “We believe in you, Piper!”

Vincent leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You don’t need luck.”

He squeezed my hand and then let go to press it against my lower back, propelling me forward into the most important introduction of my life. The crowd parted, and there stood the woman I’d been stalking for years.

Mercedes Horan was a big personality in a tiny body. She must’ve created her persona to make up for her stature, because her voice rang out louder than anyone else’s in the vicinity, and her orange dress was as bright as a traffic cone.

“Well, look who it is,” she said as she spotted Vincent. “The creator of my signature scent! Vincent, so wonderful to see you.” She leaned in for cheek kisses.

Even from where I stood, I could feel her energy—and it was magnetic. Intense, but charming.

“Always a pleasure, Mercedes. And which fragrance is that?” Vincent asked.

“You mean you can’t smell it on me?” She held out her wrist dramatically. “Here.”

Vincent leaned in and closed his eyes as he inhaled it. “Ah, of course. That’s Belle Nuit. You wear it well.”