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I shook my head. Of course, she wouldn’t see the complications in this. Of my sisters, Delia was the most…sexual. Professional boundaries wouldn’t mean shit to her when her personal pleasure was in question. She’d simply take what she wanted and give any fallout the middle finger.
I wasn’t like her, though. Did I want Calvin? Absolutely. My traitorous body fuckingsangin anticipation whenever he was near.
ButwantingCalvin andhavinghim were two different things, and they were completely at odds with each other. We were oil and water, two things that would never mix.
“I’m his boss.”
“Weak,” Ella said, calling me out on my bullshit.
“It’s not, though. Iamhis boss. A sexual relationship with him would cross so many lines.”
“Maybe technically,” Delia said. “But I’d consider you more on a level playing field than anything else. You hold the majority share, so what. It’s not like you unilaterally make decisions. You require his input on everything. Hell, you requireourinput on everything. That’s what having a board means.”
I mean, yeah, if you wanted to gettechnical.But this was about a lot more than technicalities. Despite having gone nearly five years without seeing each other, and only having two albeit incredibly hot, thigh-clenching makeout sessions that have spurred on a thousand fantasies of Calvin naked in my bed, there was too much history there.
Calvin had apologized to me the other day, yes, and I appreciated that. Maybe he’d start taking me more seriously around the office. But what Delia was proposing—a purely physical relationship with him? I couldn’t get on board with that. Stupidly, I wanted more. I wanted Calvin to want my bodyandmy brains. It’s what I would ask of any man I gave myself to, not just him. I deserved that, didn’t I?
“It’s too complicated and messy,” I said, waving off my sisters’ protests. “We have to work together, and it’s not a road I’m willing to walk.”
“So what’re you going to do?” Delia asked.
“I’m glad you asked, little sister. Tonight, I’m going out with my favorite girls and getting drunk. Later, we’re gonna come home and demolish all the food in my freezer. I’m going to spend my weekend curled up in bed with a book. And next week…”
“Yes?” Ella prompted.
“Next week, I’m going to do my fucking job, and show Calvin Ryder who’s boss.”
My sister erupted into cheers, and I smiled.
This was exactly what I needed: my best girls around me, slowly replacing all thoughts of Calvin with their laughter and love.
“Report.”
Jeff scrambled into the seat across from me, arms laden with a sheaf of papers that flew everywhere when he dropped onto the chair.
“Shit,” he said quietly, then looked up at me apologetically.
“What’s all that?”
“Receipts.”
I dropped my elbows onto my desk and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Jeff. Scan those into the accounting program and shred the physicals.”
“I just thought you’d—”
“You thought wrong,” I said, lifting my head to level him with a glare. Then I waved my hand. “Set all that shit down and tell me what’s going on.”
“According to Cindy, Amara’s been hard at work with Liam Danvers to get the canned cocktail recipes perfected, and they met with the design team last week to finalize the packaging.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What’s it look like?”
“Oh, right!” Jeff said, grinning sheepishly at me, and I glared in response. He rifled through the stack of papers balanced haphazardly on his lap until he came to the one he sought and held it out to me.
I took a moment to study the sheet, lifting a brow as I met his eyes again. “This is what they’re calling it?”
