The Boss's Son Box Set

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The Boss's Son Box Set Page 26

by Sierra Rose


  “Stay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “Is this because I offered to buy you a steak?”

  “I’ll write you an excused absence for your boss,” he said with a harsh laugh.

  Britt messaged work to say she wouldn’t be in the following day and thought in passing that it was a good thing she’d never used her vacation days before this. She kicked off her flip-flops and scooted in beside Jack. He pulled her back against him and curled around her, pulling the fluffy duvet up over her shoulder. He kissed the back of her neck warmly. Just as she was settling in to that tingle and wondering if he wanted more than passive comfort, she heard the low train-engine sound of his snore and had to stifle a laugh. She snuggled in beside him and daydreamed about all the things they hadn’t done together yet, all the beautiful firsts that lay ahead for the two of them as a couple.

  First vacation—she favored Puerto Rico but Jack probably liked some place more exotic because he was so well travelled.

  First weekend away—some romantic B&B in New England, she hoped.

  First trip to IKEA followed by the first attempt to work together on a DIY project.

  First dinner party with their friends from work—Luke and Marj specifically.

  First roller coaster ride.

  First cooking class.

  First pet together. Britt liked cats but she couldn’t help thinking Jack would be the sort to want an athletic golden Lab instead.

  She smiled to herself at the thought of all the fun that lay ahead and how it would bind them ever closer to one another. She drifted off to sleep in his arms and had wonderful dreams of the life they would share together. When she woke it was because Jack had rolled over onto his side away from her and she felt cold where his arms had been wrapped securely around her. His snoring did not resume. She wondered why, if he was awake, he had turned away from her. But it felt wrong to ask at such a time.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m starving. Those cakes just didn’t do it. I haven’t eaten in I don’t know how long.”

  Britt vaulted off the bed and found her shoes.

  “I’m going to pick up some tacos. Want anything?”

  “Tacos? It sounds wonderful. But it’s one in the morning.”

  “I realize that. Perfect time for tacos, dude. Especially since you’re starving. Do you have a preference?”

  “Chicken taco, no sour cream,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Great. I’ll be back. Want anything from Redbox?”

  “Nah, I have Netflix.”

  “Pick something to watch when I get back then. If neither of us is going to sleep we might as well have a midnight picnic,” she said. “Now I’m off to get tacos.”

  “Not without me. A man has to protect his woman, like a knight protecting his princess.”

  Britt laughed. “Get your shoes on, Prince Charming.”

  They spent a few minutes picking out junk food at a convenience store and then got a bag of tacos. When they got back, Jack moved the coffee table out of the way and spread the duvet on the floor in front of the TV like a picnic blanket. A really expensive picnic blanket stuffed with Turkish goose down, she thought with a smirk.

  Britt deposited her plastic bag of chips and salsa and chocolate bars on the counter and took the tacos to the blanket. Jack had opened a couple of cold bottles of beer and some paper plates. He cued up Die Hard 2 and they settled in to watch the movie and munch their late night snack. Britt kicked off her shoes and stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning back against the couch. She took a monstrous bite of her soft taco and sighed with satisfaction. She felt a great deal better than she had an hour ago lying in bed feeling so terribly far away from Jack whom she loved so dearly. Halfway through the movie she jumped up to her feet.

  “Shit, I left the cream cheese out!”

  “What?” Jack asked, pausing the movie.

  “I bought cream cheese and forgot to put it in the refrigerator. I want to show you the only thing I really know how to make besides Lean Cuisines and premade cookie dough.”

  Britt unwrapped the brick of cream cheese, set it on a plate and dumped a jar of salsa on top of it. Opening the tortilla chips, she offered it to Jack.

  “It’s Mexican dip!” she declared victoriously.

  “I’ve been to Mexico. They didn’t dump things on top of Philly cream cheese,” he deadpanned.

  “Right, well, this is Mexican dip by way of Jersey. It’s delicious. Quit worrying about authenticity and just try it. It’s excellent.”

  “It looks repulsive. No offense.”

  “Why do people say that...’no offense’ when obviously the statement was insulting?”

  “I mean I’m not trying to insult you personally nor do I wish to materially damage my future opportunities to get in your pants based upon the declaration that I think the dip looks nasty. There’s a hard brick of cold wet cheese under that tomato slop. That is fundamentally wrong.”

  “No, it’s not. Here.”

  Britt defiantly plunged a tortilla chip into the concoction and scooped up cold white cheese and chunky garden salsa. She shoved it in Jack’s face as if in a challenge.

  “No thanks. Really,” he said, turning aside.

  “Be brave. Taste it.”

  “Fine. As long as you promise to back off of any attempts you may be cherishing to get your own cooking show. Because this is demented.”

  “People would love to learn these recipes. Like if they were plural. If I knew other things to...pour over cream cheese. I bet like chocolate syrup and nuts would be good...like a little cheesecake.”

  “Stop. Please. I’ll try this one if you won’t invent recipes.”

  “Wimp,” she said.

  He took the chip and bit off the smallest particle imaginable. He raised his eyebrows, swallowed and ate the rest of the chip.

  “Okay, I was wrong. That’s tremendously satisfying.”

  “I’ll have you know I learned that recipe from my college roommate.”

  He took another bite and laughed, then scooped up more dip with a new chip and piling more chips on his plate.

  “I’m so glad we did this. Thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I think it’s good for us both, actually.”

  “You’re probably right. I mean you were right about this strangely addictive dip,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his.

  They sat side-by-side watching the rest of the movie. Her head nodded against his shoulder and she slept. Jack shifted slightly to get his arm around her. They sat like that for hours, the blank gleam of the television screen illumining the dark room, a litter of chips and taco wrappers strewn across the duvet, and Britt and Jack in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 11

  She woke to find him asleep, his weight leaning against her. She wriggled away, settling his head carefully on a fallen couch cushion with a smile. She knew he needed the rest. She took a quick shower and was lamenting his lack of a blow dryer when she heard him up and about in the living room. She hurried in and started picking up the trash from their picnic.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I just need to talk to you. I have a lot going on in my head right now and maybe you can help me sort it out.”

  “Okay.”

  “Leave that stuff for now. Come out to the terrace with me.”

  “You have a terrace?” she asked, dumbfounded. “I’ve never even used that word before.”

  “Here.” He opened a glass door she had thought was a window and out they stepped onto a lovely curving stone terrace.

  “Should I put on pants?” she asked, indicating the borrowed t-shirt she had on.

  “No, it’s a private space. You can wear, or not wear, whatever you like out here,” he assured her.

  There was a beautiful rattan couch with an umbrella-like shade over it like a half shell. She curled up on it and wondered where it had been all her life. Jack sat beside
her, his arm across the back, his fingers toying with her damp hair.

  “Charlie left early. He was going to stay a few weeks and all of a sudden changed his mind. He signed off on a power of attorney for me to make all the financial decisions on Dad’s estate. There’s a lot.”

  “Do you have a lawyer or anyone to help you?”

  “Sure. There’s a team, most of them guys who knew my dad for a long time so they can help me with his wishes and stuff like that, but there’s just...things I have to decide based on being his son and how I want to move forward.”

  “How can I help?” she asked, her hand on his knee. “I’m here for you.”

  “I know you are and that means more to me than anything in my life now, I want you to know that. The thing is, I have all these companies to deal with, decide what to keep, what to sell, and then this offer fell in my lap. The company in Hong Kong where I did the software training wants to give me a contract to do some design work exclusively for them.”

  “And this is on top of your first major studio album? You’re only one man, Jack,” she said. “What do you want to focus on right now? It’s not unreasonable to tell people that, hey, you need six months before you commit to any major changes. Like, if you just want to hire a manager and go lay down tracks for your album, do it. You don’t have to do everything yourself and you sure as hell don’t have to do it all at once. Just because people want something from you doesn’t mean they get it.”

  “Wow, you’re incredible, Britt. I just...I have to juggle all this and the last thing I want to do is let anyone down. Because my dad wasn’t like that. Whatever needed to be done, he just did it. No complaints, no excuses and no taking six months to get his head together.”

  “If that was what worked for him, great. You don’t have to be him, or meet all his commitments. Just do what feels right for you. Okay?”

  “What feels right to me is you, Britt. You are absolutely the only thing that makes any sense to me right now.”

  “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

  “I can never thank you enough for rescuing me last night. I think I was lost until I saw your face. You pushed your way in and it was like I could breathe again.”

  “That’s because I opened your windows to blow the stink out of your place,” she joked.

  “You know what I mean. I had a reason to breathe in and out again.”

  “I’m glad. So what are you thinking about Hong Kong?”

  “I’m thinking it’s a great opportunity but I’m not willing to leave you behind.”

  “I can’t move to Hong Kong. My job—”

  “Is at a company that’s in limbo until I decide what to do with it. I’m not going to play puppet master with you. If you want to stay here, then stay here and I’ll stay with you. I could probably work remotely on the design project if they’d agree to it. Part of me wishes you would have been able to say you’d go with me anywhere in a heartbeat but I understand.”

  “It seems a bit extreme to me, to move to Hong Kong. If you decide to do it, that’s your choice, but it seems almost like an escape hatch to me. Like if you don’t want to deal with all of your dad’s businesses, you can skive off like Charlie did.”

  “I’m not looking to run away and hide. If I were, I would just go to Bali and never come back. Frankly, I can afford it. I’d be working in graphic design on the Hong Kong project, not smoking it up on a private beach, Britt. You make it sound like I’d be a coward.”

  “I’d never call you a coward, Jack. I’m just saying that the truth is you have a lot keeping you here in the way of responsibilities and if you choose to dodge those, then you have to accept the fact that it makes you look like you’re playing hooky.”

  “I’m not even going to Hong Kong! I want to stay where you are. If that’s here, then I’m staying here. Do you not get the point of this?”

  “Yeah, I do get the point of this. But I don’t want to be...a place you go to hide.”

  “That’s harsh, Britt. Knowing me like you do, I thought you of all people would want to give me...harbor.”

  “I do. More than anything I want to be your comfort and just take on anything you need me to do, but I don’t want to prevent you from dealing with the stuff you need to deal with. In six months, like I said, you can tackle the business side of everything. You can even wait on us for six months and I support that. I don’t support taking off to Hong Kong. Just stay here and don’t...take off. Okay?”

  “Okay. I won’t. What I want to do is just have this all disappear. Since we can’t do that, I want to be with just you for a while.”

  “Well, not to add more expectations to overwhelm you, but I happen to know that your birthday is tomorrow. What do you say we just go away for the weekend someplace? We’ll take off and stay a couple of nights.”

  “I love it. Only, how do you know it’s my birthday?”

  “You forget I have super powers.”

  “Really, how?”

  “I processed your insurance paperwork, Jack. I entered you in payroll.”

  “Do you remember everyone’s birthday in the office that way?”

  “Nope, only the ones I’m sleeping with,” she teased.

  “That’s fair. So where should we go?”

  “It’s your birthday. It should be your choice.”

  “But what if I’m so fried from the funeral that I don’t even want to think about it? Just surprise me.”

  “Okay, how about Vermont? I’ve always wanted to go to Vermont!”

  “That’s where you’ve always wanted to go? Wow, dream big, Britt,” he said with a laugh.

  “Well, I also always wanted to go to Spain but I figured that was out of the question.”

  “Why is it out of the question?”

  “Uh, I’m already taking today off. I only have so many vacation days. Plus airfare costs money and reservations have to be made—”

  “You’re talking to a man who just inherited a private jet, Britt.”

  “For real?”

  “For real. Wanna go to Spain?”

  “Isn’t that—too much for you right now?”

  “No, it’s the first moment that anything I’ve inherited seems to have some value. Like the plane is only worth something because I can take you somewhere you’ve always wanted to go. Otherwise it’s nothing but a couple million dollars’ worth of albatross around my neck.”

  “Did you dad fly in this plane to visit Charlie?”

  “Yeah. It’s one hell of a long flight. Like twenty hours.”

  Britt let out a long whistle.

  “My dad went and visited Charlie as much as he could. He loved us. I know my dad was a workaholic. Maybe he couldn’t let stuff go and walk away. But I can. And so can you. Let’s go to Spain. Right now.”

  “Seriously?” she asked.

  “Dead serious.”

  “Spain is like my biggest dream. I thought I’d never get the chance to go.”

  He softly cupped her face. “You’re going, Britt.”

  Excitement flooded through her. She screamed in delight as she jumped into Jack’s arms.

  “Spain has the best wine,” Jack said.

  “And the most beautiful cathedrals.”

  “And the Mediterranean coast is absolute paradise.”

  “With the mountains right around the corner! Spain has the most breathtaking scenery ever!”

  He smiled widely. “Make sure to bring a camera!”

  “Okay,” she said. “You call my boss and tell him I’m taking off.”

  “I think he’s okay with it.” He winked at her.

  “Great. I’m going to go back to my place and pack.”

  “No. Stay here with me.”

  “Dude, if we’re going to Spain, I need clothes and makeup and stuff.”

  “We’ll buy whatever you need when we get there.”

  “Seriously, Jack. I’ll be back in no time.”

  “Just bring your phone charger and your passport.”<
br />
  “I don’t carry my passport. I’ll have to go home and find it.”

  “Okay, fine. But I want you back here. No having a fit of responsibility and cancelling on me.”

  She shook his hand. “Deal.”

  Britt went home and unearthed her passport. She packed her bikini and her flatiron and a couple of sundresses and the matching bra and panty set she’d bought with Jack in mind. Sunscreen, cosmetics, and a pair of high heels she’d never had occasion to wear yet rounded out her bag and she was on her way back to his place.

  When she arrived, he had cleaned up the living room and packed some stuff in a very businessman–looking wheeled suitcase, with his guitar case propped against it.

  “So is there a chance I could get serenaded in Spain?”

  “Better than a chance.”

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Perfect,” he replied, indicating her long white sundress and hoop earrings, the picture of bohemian relaxation.

  “Great,” she said, linking arms with him. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 12

  “It’s hard to believe that yesterday I couldn’t even get you to pick up the phone and now we’re on the way to Spain together. I mean, hello? Spain!”

  Jack laughed.

  “I can’t believe it’s this easy to make you happy,” he marveled.

  “Yeah, I’m easy. All I need is a hot guy with a private jet,” she teased.

  “Remind me to send Charlie a thank you note for bailing on me like a total dick. If he had stuck around and been a man about it, I never would have gotten the chance to jet off to Europe with you.”

  “He’s hurting, Jack,” Britt said.

  “And I’m not?”

  “You both are. And everyone deals with grief in different ways.”

  “Well, at least he was good for something besides skipping out on me. I do know he loved Dad and he loves me. He just can’t stick around.”

  “Emotionally unavailable. I think I’ve dated enough guys like that to identify one.”

  “Nah, this was different. Usually he just wants to do his own thing and escape the pressure of expectations, but this was sudden. Like he panicked or something.”

 

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