Page 71 of False Confidence

And if she wasn’t… Well, he could probably return the Proud Dog Mom coffee cup he’d ordered.

“Jazz.”

“The answer is no,” she said with a sigh before looking up into Cal’s face. “Look, you know I love you, but as much as I appreciate you giving my best friend multiple orgasms every day for the rest of her life, I can’t keep clearing your schedule so you can go home and have sex with your wife.”

“Come on, Jazz. The man’s in love. Throw him a bone,” Sierra chimed in from beside her. Jazz just rolled her eyes at her assistant, while Cal dropped into the chair opposite her desk.

“Valid points from you both, but surprisingly not what I was going to say for once.”

“Oh. In that case, what can I do for you?”

“Do you want to come over to watch the season finale of LoveStruck tonight, since Maggie and Liam have that work dinner?”

Ah, yes. The work dinner. With Nadia. If it wasn’t bad enough that she had to deal with Maggie talking about her, now she had Liam telling her all about Nadia’s laundry list of achievements.

She knew, deep down, that it wasn’t about Nadia. Nadia was fine. More than fine, she was great. But even though Jazz was well aware that jealousy wasn’t a good look on her, she just couldn’t shake it. She’d planned to sit on her couch and stew all night, but trashy reality TV sounded better.

“It’s already the season finale?” she asked Cal, who nodded excitedly. Jazz had always been hopeless at keeping up with TV shows. It wasn’t unusual for her to accidentally skip episodes or suddenly realize she was watching the same thing for the second time, ten episodes in.

“Yeah, I was going to wait for Maggie so we could watch it tomorrow, but I don’t want to get spoiled on TikTok.” Jazz didn’t dare suggest he just stay off TikTok. Maggie had gotten him hooked on reality shows when they’d first started hanging out outside of work, and Cal hadn’t looked back since. “And there’s something a little sad about a fifty-eight-year-old man watching a reality dating show at home alone on a Friday night.”

“A hundred percent. That would be super weird. I’m in. Ooh, we should make cocktails.”

Cal’s eyes lit up. “We still have the edible glitter Maggie got for your Galentine’s thing.”

“Perfect.”

“This little friendship thing you two have is so cute,” Sierra said, leaning in and whispering, “Do you think that’ll change when he’s your father-in-law?”

“Sierra!”

“What? I thought it was common knowledge now.”

Common knowledge was a stretch. Cal knew, and Jazz and Liam were planning to tell his moms they were seeing each other over dinner. The only reason Sierra knew was because she’d spied him kissing her goodbye when he dropped her off for work.

“It’s not going to change,” Cal confirmed, not even flinching at the father-in-law comment. They weren’t technically even dating. “Do you want to come over, Sierra? We can catch you up if you haven’t watched the rest of the season,” Cal promised.

“Oh, I’ve watched it. LoveStruck is huge in the Hayashi household and we go all out for the finale. My dad ordered a cake from our favorite bakery, they decorate the house, and my brother and his partners are coming into town all the way from Tacoma.”

“Tacoma’s like a thirty-minute drive. It’s not exactly Antarctica.”

Sierra shrugged. “It was a bigger deal when they lived in Portland. Oh, I almost forgot, my dad made t-shirts. I’ll send you pictures.”

God, Jazz couldn’t imagine her family ever doing anything like that. Their Christmases weren’t even that festive. She hoped Sierra knew how lucky she was to have a family who enjoyed spending time together. Fuck, Jazz would settle for a family who wanted her around as she was, instead of some character she played, trying to fit in. She wasn’t asking for parties and t-shirts—although that would be nice.

“I hope you’re taking notes here, Jazz,” Cal said, pulling her attention back to them. “We’re going all out next year. A party, T-shirts, everything. We can even get t-shirts for Peach and Bray, get the whole family involved.”

The whole family. Jazz swallowed, her throat suddenly thick. “That sounds nice.”

Jazz handed Cal a glass of shimmering pink vodka and sank onto the couch, tucking her feet under her legs.

“Thanks,” Cal said, setting the big bowl of popcorn he’d made between them and immediately lifting it up again when Peach jumped up to inspect it. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Jazz asked, and Cal raised a brow.

“I don’t think Peach is going to answer.”

“Right. Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

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