Page 69 of Manhattan Bossholes

“You don’t have a dog, Maya.” I sighed, so very tired of this nonsense. Everything with her was so staged, so artificial. So different from Piper, who was dynamically and defiantly herself at all times.

“Whatever, I’d borrow one,” she said quickly. “Dogs are good for engagement.”

It took real effort not to roll my eyes. Was there a limit to how much nonsense a person could spew before they’d spontaneously combust? Because if so, Maya was about to hit her quota.

She stepped even closer to me. “I know you must miss some parts of being with me…” Maya grasped my hand and placed it against her breast. “These parts.” I pulled away immediately. How the hell she read that as encouragement, I couldn’t say, but she gave me a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and proceeded to squeeze her breasts herself, putting on a show. “Just know that all of this will be waiting for you when you’re ready for an upgrade from that little photographer.”

“Because you miss me so very much,” I said, voice dry as a bone. “Not because you miss having me foot the bill for all the crap you’re too cheap to buy for yourself.”

Maya grew up struggling, and no matter how successful she got, she still hated spending her own money on anything. I could respect the grit she’d used to propel herself into success. Hell, I could even respect her being frugal and actually knowing the value of a dollar. But the way she acted like she was doing me a huge favor by allowing me to cater to her every whim aggravated the crap out of me.

“I can’t miss both?” she asked with a wink. “I deserve a man who’s…well-endowed in every way, and you deserve a woman who’s a ten, not a five.”

“You’re such a romantic,” I snarked.

At that, she laughed out loud. “We both know romance isn’t real,” she trilled. “I don’t need you to love me. I don’t even care if you like me. All I’m offering is some mutual satisfaction. Think about it…and know that the offer won’t stay open forever.” With that, she sauntered off.

I heard a cough and glanced behind me. Piper was in the doorway.

“Too bad we’re only halfway through the shoot,” she said.

“Oh shit,” I walked over to her. “You heard all of that?”

Piper nodded. Her face was pale.

“She’s ridiculous—we both know that. Ignore her. I would never get back together with Maya.” I reached out to grasp her shoulders.

She looked up at me and managed a smile. But it looked a little forced.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Just tired,” she said. “Long day. But it’s going well, right? I think we’ve gotten some really solid shots. And I think you’ll like our next setup.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, eyeing her.

Piper gave me another smile and set off for the studio. I followed behind her, fighting the feeling that something was off with her.

She had every right to be tired. She’d been working her ass off on this campaign, and the day’s stresses couldn’t have been easy for her to handle. But it was a part of life at this level—we’d get past it together. We were going to see this damn campaign through no matter how awkward it got. And then everything would be fine again.

20

PIPER

Everything had been leading up to this moment, and despite all of the drama getting here, it had all turned out perfect.

The rooftop Evermore launch party was packed with people who’d helped us get to this happy ending, like Jean and Joe Sullivan, as well as tons of fancy folks I’d seen on-screen and online. I was nervous and lightheaded because I had to pretend hanging out among them was no big deal. I glanced across the crowd and spied Darcy chatting with Cameron O’Connor. He was the CEO of Veritique, a jewelry brand that neither of us could hope to afford pieces from…but God, that was the dream. I could tell she was also trying to play it cool, and when she glanced over at me, we exchanged a wide-eyed look of disbelief at just how huge the night was.

Summit had spared no expense for the event. The outdoor rooftop space featured flower walls packed with pink and red roses and ranunculus, and the influencers were taking advantage of the picturesque backdrops. Of course, the Evermore logo was visible no matter where they aimed their camera. We were going to get so much good press from the party.

“You look stunning tonight,” Vincent whispered in my ear. “I wish I could sneak you behind that flower wall and have my way with you.”

“Tempting,” I said. “But this dress is a beast to get on and off. Look at the lacing.”

I swiveled so he could see the thick satin ribbon threaded up my back. The corset dress I’d picked was a light purple confection that made me look like an ethereal fairy. I’d picked the color as a subtle reference to the star ingredient in Evermore, the flower that had kicked off my relationship with my bosshole-in-chief.

Vincent plucked at the tulle overlay on the skirt of my dress. “All I’d have to do is lift this up and…” he raised an eyebrow.

“Stop,” I laughed. “Look who’s coming.”