Page 94 of Manhattan Bossholes

“You have a point,” she agreed. She squinted at me. “You sure you don’t mind if I head out?”

I pointed at the door. “Go.”

Darcy ran over to give me a quick hug, and as the door shut behind her, I paused to take stock of the after-hours work I still needed to take care of before I left for the day.

Hang photos.

Finish assembling the shelving unit.

Rearrange the shipping and receiving tables.

Respond to the twenty new emails I hadn’t had a chance to address during business hours.

My to-do list was endless, but I was loving every second. Staying busy kept my mind from wandering.

Most of the time.

There were still moments when I was reminded of Vincent against my will. A bus passing by with my photo of Maya, Rodrigo, and the bottle of Evermore on the side of it. A social media post from someone visiting Hawaii. Even fresh flowers outside the neighborhood bodegas made my heart pinch with memories of Vincent.

Thinking of him was pointless. Each day that passed brought me a little more distance, to the point where I could almost convince myself he’d been the absolute worst during our time together.

My head was able to buy into my revisionist history, but convincing my heart was proving to be more of a challenge.

I started stacking broken down boxes when the locked main door rumbled like someone was trying to break in. I laughed to myself at Darcy’s nonstop-ness. She moved through life at warp speed, and I was always trying to keep up with her.

“Hold on,” I yelled as I ran across the giant space. “Gimme a sec, woman.”

I slid the door open and froze when I saw who was on the other side of it.

“Vincent.”

“Hey,” he said. He looked exhausted, and I immediately felt a pang, despite everything. “Can we talk for a second?”

My heart shouted, “Yes, I’ve missed you, what took you so long?” but I forced myself to close the door on that feeling. That organ in my chest was a ridiculous asshole that couldn’t be trusted.

I didn’t even realize I was physically closing the door in front of me until it came to a stop on an expensive-looking black loafer, getting a shocked cry out of Vincent.

“Seriously, Piper?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” I said through the half-closed door. “You should leave.”

“But what if I have something to say to you?”

“Oh, you’ve said plenty,” I snapped as I leaned my forehead against the door. “I’ve heard enough from you.”

“Piper…come on. Please?”

I was a sucker for a grovel. Maybe I could let him say lots of nice things to me and drop kick him anyway?

I slid the door open and ignored my body’s visceral reaction to seeing him up close.

Yeah, he looked wrung out, despite the expensive suit and bright tie. A shadow of the man I knew, with hollows under his eyes. I hated my reflexive need to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Can you come outside with me? I’d like to show you something.”

He sounded uncharacteristically nervous.