As much as she enjoyed Jay’s softness, Isla found she equally enjoyed his hardness.
In between their sixteenth or seventeenth kiss (it was getting difficult to count, especially since Jay’s hands had begun roaming to delightfully sensitive places), Isla leaned her forehead against his. "If we’re going to be together, does that mean I get to see you in lingerie sometime?"
A low, guttural groan slipped out of Jay. "Don’t tease me. I’d love nothing more than to be touched by you while I’m decked in sheer satin."
A delectable image crossed Isla of running her fingertips along Jay’s taut stomach and thighs while he rocked a lavender teddy. That one online comment from so long ago came to mind.
Isla kissed Jay, giggling. “If I get to see you in lingerie, I’m going to beg you to raw me, Daddy.”
Jay laughed and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Isla loved how close they were, so warm, so comfortable. As his kisses traveled further south, panic surged through Isla. She grabbed the bag with the electronics.
He stopped. “What are you doing?”
“Checking your schedule,” Isla said. “We can’t have you missing any appointments.”
Jay tossed the bag aside. “You are my only schedule tonight. I thought I lost you once. I’m going to make sure I never lose you.”
A soft chuckle rolled out of Isla. "And you said you weren’t good at talking."
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she could go back to her dream job.
* * *
Waking up with an arm around Isla was beyond perfection.
Isla stirred as soon as he started stroking her hair. “Good morning. Sorry, I don’t have your cappuccino yet.”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” Jay kissed her. “I’d rather start my mornings off like this.”
Isla returned the kiss ever so sweetly. Sunshine and wonder flowed through Jay’s veins every time she kissed him.
There had been a lot of kissing last night. Kisses, hopes, dreams.
“Been up for a while?” Jay asked.
“Was doing your schedule.” Isla shifted to face him. “You have brunch with Teresa at 10:30, which is an hour from now. So you have two hours to kill.”
Jay couldn’t suppress his laugh. Isla truly knew how things went now.
“What do you want to do?” Isla asked. “Go to Monahan’s and get some coffee? Call your mom and tell her you’re going to do the fashion line?”
“Great idea.” Jay sat up and stretched. “After I get done talking to her, then we’re going to plan the next step in our campaign. I’m going to do both the fashion line and keep my support strong for student loan reformation. Oh! We could make it so every percentage of sales from the college student clothes line goes to the EFSLRA.”
A beautiful smile unfurled on Isla’s face while he spoke.
Yes, he was more than a professional son. Jay was truly capable of everything, as long as he had Isla.
What a wonderful way to start the next part of his life.
Acknowledgments
“The Blundering Billionaire” wouldn’t have been possible without Tamsen Parker reaching out to me about joining the Rogue crew. The whole gang welcomed me instantly, something I honestly hadn’t been expecting. Their warm, gentle welcome inspired me to write an equally warm, gentle story.
My wonderful critique partners and friends cheered me on through every step of this novelette’s creation and helped me shape it into the gem it is now. Kate Sheeran Swed, Leigh Landry, Stephanie Eding, Maria Z. Medina, Tamara Mataya, and Diana Hurlburt are worth billions to me.
Lastly, I want to thank all the Jays and Islas out there rallying for student loan reformation. Whether you talk among friends, vent online, call your representatives, or attend protests—you are part of the resistance.
Also By Chace Verity
For fans of queer contemporary romance…
Team Phison
Team Phison Forever (coming May 15, 2019)
Just Some Things
For fans of queer fantasy romance…
My Heart Is Ready (The Absolutes #0.5)
Your Heart Will Grow (The Absolutes #1)
My Heart Is Yours (The Absolutes #1.5)
The Masked Minotaur
For fans of other kinds of queer stories…
Lucky Charm
Hard to Find
About Chace Verity
Chace Verity (she/they) is publishing queer as heck stories with a strong romantic focus, although queer friendships and found families are important too. Chace prefers to write fantasy but dabbles in contemporary and historical fiction as well. An American citizen & Canadian permanent resident, Chace will probably never be able to call a gallon of milk a "four-liter.”
You can find out more about Chace on their website or follow them on Twitter: @chace_verity.
Sign up for their newsletter for all the latest updates about their writing!
Good Service
Sionna Fox
About This Story
Evan doesn’t miss politics. Bartending a stone’s throw from the state house is as close as he’ll get now, until Tessa sits tearing apart a bill, full of righteous passion and the will to back it up. Tessa might be three steps ahead of the former wonk, but sparks fly over offers to put her in touch with old contacts and allies. Tessa’s burning need to fix the world could bring Evan too close to the old fires, but he can’t resist the temptation. Just for one night.
For everyone who struggles to feel like they’re doing enough.
1
“I’ll catch up in a minute, just need to…” Tessa pointed to the bathroom. The rest of the staff filed out of the office while she hooked a left and headed for the relative seclusion of the building’s shared bathrooms. She locked the door behind her and took a deep breath. She wanted to go back to her new apartment, curl up with her cat, and mark up policy notes until she passed out. Going out with the office was not on her list. She had no planner stickers for awkward drinks with your brand-spanking new co-workers and your boss, celebrating the work of a bunch of people she didn’t know and friendships she wasn’t a part of.
There probably should be though. Lord knew she’d been to enough uncomfortable office mixers between undergraduate internships, grad school, more internships, and her old job in Hallowell. Too bad all the experience didn’t keep her from leaning against a bathroom door, dreading making small talk with her office mates. She could talk policy for days, but Nancy had expressly forbidden getting involved in work discussion at this damn thing. They were supposed to be taking a brief breather after the first round of this year’s legislation made it to the governor’s desk.
She texted her best friend.
Tessa: They’re making me go out for drinks. HALP.
Waiting in the bathroom wasn’t going to make an answering text appear that would somehow get her out of this social obligation. With a final sigh, she unlocked the door and left, hurrying down the hall and out the door. If she was any further behind, Nancy would start to wonder. She didn’t need a reputation as the staff hermit ten days in. They needed to know that she could keep her shit together when it counted and not chicken out over a simple dinner. They’d be counting on her to schmooze recalcitrant politicians and donors, not hide in a bathroom stall. And she could do that, she was great at that, co-workers…not so much. She’d done enough mixing of her personal and professional lives, thanks.
The restaurant they’d chosen was at least close to the state house and her teeny tiny studio apartment. She’d been in last weekend, sitting in its cozy upstairs lounge with a drink and a stack of work when the silence in her apartment made her itch. The low hum of other customers and a gently spiked hot cocoa had done the trick. The absurdly hot bartender who served her said cocoa didn’t hurt, even if she’d nearly swallowed her tongue trying to place her order.
She walked in and couldn’t stop herself from glancing around to see if he was there.
“Can I help you?�
�
Tessa started at the host’s question. “I’m meeting some people…”
“Right. Around the corner, I think.”
“Thanks.”
She found their table, and the seat they’d left open for her, right next to Nancy. Perfect.
“Oh good, you’re here. We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
She grimaced internally, keeping her professional smile plastered on her face. Nancy had steamrollered her into being here in the name of team unity, and she couldn’t wriggle out of it. What was she supposed to say? I’d rather be drowning my sorrows in a pint of ice cream and eviscerating an appropriations bill? Anywhere but surrounded by a group of people who remind me of the friends and colleagues I left behind in Hallowell because my absolute jackass of an ex-boyfriend boned someone else behind my back? “Nope, I found it.” She chose not to mention that she’d been in before, part working, part hot bartender watching.
She sat, stuck in social Siberia with Nancy on her left and two women who’d been on Nancy’s staff since forever on her right. Those two were already deep in conversation with each other, leaving Tessa fiddling with the cracking plastic edge of the menu holder and hoping cocktails were happening. Strong ones.
She didn’t want to start over. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. But she’d desperately needed a change of scenery. Imploding relationships would do that to a person. A thousand miles away from her hometown and her humiliating break-up still didn’t seem far enough, but she’d taken what she could get on short notice.
When the server arrived, Tessa was relieved to find that this was a drinking affair. She ordered a cocktail and the least expensive entrée on the menu—it hadn’t been clear if Nancy was picking up the tab for this, and moving had wiped out much of her savings. She certainly hoped that if she was going to be roped into this, she wouldn’t have to pay for a meal that would otherwise consist of pasta and butter with some powdered Parmesan. An occasional over-priced boozy hot cocoa was about all the indulgence she could afford.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. “Excuse me,” she muttered to no one in particular, and ducked down the narrow hallway past the bar that led to the bathroom and the kitchen to read the text. Hailey was no help at all.
Hailey: Good! Have fun! Talk to people who have no idea Jacob’s a monumental asshole! Otherwise why did you move away from meeeeee?
Why, indeed. She’d let that asshole win, that was why. Now she was hiding in the hallway between the kitchen and the dining room, reading texts from her best friend instead of even attempting to build relationships here. She needed them if she was going to do the job she’d promised Nancy she was capable of doing.
She put her phone in her pocket, squared her shoulders, and walked smack into a human wall.
* * *
“Shit. Fuck. Jesus. I’m sorry.”
Evan put his hands up to steady the woman who’d run straight into his chest. His tongue caught on his words for a split second when he looked at her. She could run into him anytime. “You okay?”
She stepped out of his grasp, red-faced with her eyes on the floor. “Yeah. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s what I get for not calling corner. No harm done, though.”
“Corner?” She looked up, bright brown eyes sharpening. She asked the question like she couldn’t help it, like anything she didn’t know could be acquired, stored, used. He remembered that feeling, could almost think of it fondly now.
“When you’re in a tight space in a restaurant, you call out warning if you’re coming around a corner, that way no one ends up with a plate of food on their chest, or worse.”
“Got it.” She shifted on her feet. “I should get back to my table.”
He watched her walk away, all soft sweater and slouchy black dress pants and low heels, back straight, her steps efficient in a way that got her where she was going quickly without breaking into an actual run, hair swinging even though her hips didn’t. He’d seen her over the weekend, with her stack of files and the officious clatter of her laptop keys and assumed she worked at the state house, the outfit made him almost certain. Even with leggings, a sweatshirt, and her hair in a messy bun, she’d had an air of ambition combined with a fervent belief in her principles that made her work through nights and weekends, making every policy point so sharp it cut. He used to work with women like her all the time.
He peeked around the screen to see who she was with. Nancy sat at the head of a table of staffers and answered his wave with a grin. For a split second, he almost missed his old life. Then he remembered how burned out he’d been, how emotionally and physically crushing every hard-fought battle lost was. The elation of their occasional victories hadn’t been enough to sustain his sanity or his health. He was much better off behind a bar.
The new woman looked at him with open curiosity, trying to fit the pieces together of his relationship to her boss. Would she assume Nancy was a regular here? And if that were the case, would it keep her from coming back? He knew how necessary it was to be able to escape the pressure. The emails and text messages never stopped, but notifications could be swiped away and dealt with later. If she was afraid of running into her boss in person, she might not want to hang out here. And then Evan wouldn’t be able to watch her work, her serious face set in concentration, interrupted by flurries of typing and note scribbling. He didn’t miss doing it himself, not really, but he liked to watch. Which was why he’d taken a job as close to the state house as he could safely get, much to his therapist’s dismay.
But he had work to do, including a round of drinks for Nancy’s semi-annual staff dinner. She took her place as the elder stateswoman seriously, her staff was extremely loyal, and many of them had been with her since her town council days. It made a spot in her office rare to come by and highly desirable. The new woman must have been extraordinary to have landed a job with her as an outsider.
Their server started to tray up the table’s round. “I’ll give you a hand with that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I got it.”
“I know. But I’ll give you a hand.”
He split the drinks between the server’s tray and his, keeping a hold of Nancy’s wine and the only drink he couldn’t assign to a staffer, which must have made it the new woman’s. No one else on Nancy’s staff would have ordered the fancified gin fizz.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Senator.” He set the glass down in front of Nancy.
“How are you, Evan?” She turned to the new woman, exactly as he’d hoped. Introductions and connections were one of Nancy’s natural talents. She couldn’t turn it off even if she tried. And she never tried. “Evan here used to work down the hall. Senator Sheehan misses him terribly. Evan, this is Tessa. She’s our new health policy wizard and we’re very lucky to have her.”
“Nice to meet you, Tessa. And I’m guessing this belongs to you?”
She looked at him with undisguised interest, like she wanted to know the whole story of how he went from state senate staffer to weeknight bartender. “Likewise. And yes, thanks.”
He set the drink in front of her. “Enjoy your meal. Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.”
Tessa. He knew her name now. He knew that she drank gin-based cocktails with plenty of fruit and wasn’t afraid of an egg white. And that she was Nancy’s new health policy expert. Which if she was working for Nancy meant she was most likely a tender-hearted do-gooder wrapped in brilliant and determined. Where had this woman come from? Why had she left there?
* * *
Tessa sipped her drink, forcing herself to go slowly. She could have sucked it down and been ready for another before their meal arrived, but she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself getting flustered by a hot ex-wonk bartender, who had made a point of delivering drinks to their table to say hello to Nancy. She couldn’t help wondering if his comment about not having seen Nancy recently was meant for her. Like he wanted her to know that this was a safe space to
hide out and work without running into her boss. He would know how valuable those places were in a small town overrun with state government officials.
What had happened to him?
Nancy drew her into conversation over dinner, keeping her from effectively mulling over the question of Evan. He certainly looked the part of bartender, with his thick, dark beard and flannel shirt covering broad shoulders and a soft belly. She couldn’t picture him clean-shaven in a suit and tie in the Senate office buildings. Nancy had to know the whole story, but Tessa knew it was none of her business and the last thing she needed was for her boss to think she was asking to be set up. Tessa was off dating.
Between dinner and dessert—which everyone had ordered at Nancy’s insistence—a number of gift bags appeared from under the table. Then the toasts began. Nancy extolled the virtues of every person at the table and presented them with personalized gifts. It was both reassuring to know how deeply Nancy cared about her staff, and stomach-churning listening to her speeches and watching everyone else open their gifts. Tessa just wanted to do her job, and do it well. Her work wasn’t about her, but about the people she might be able to help by getting legislation written and passed that didn’t completely screw over their constituents. That was her job, and she was good at it.
“And last, but not least, we have Tessa.”
She pasted a bland look on her face while every molecule of her body wanted to slide under the table and hide. Nancy placed a small, glittery bag in front of her. God, she hated opening gifts in public.
Rogue Ever After (The Rogue Series Book 7) Page 21