Page 4 of Beauty and the Boss Man

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Aiden, I’m a lesbian living in New York City. I settle down with a new nice girl every weekend.”

My laugh fills the cab of my truck. “Yeah, yeah. Just rub it in that you’re getting more action than me.”

“It’s your own fault. All work and no play makes Aiden a horny boy.”

I cringe. “Don’t say the word ‘horny.’ It’s weird.”

“Prude,” she mocks.

She’s not wrong, though. My business has overtaken my life. Even when I have time off, I’m usually just trying to decompress. I’m rarely on the prowl for someone to take home. I’m not in my twenties anymore, and honestly, it just sounds exhausting.

My last long-term relationship ended in disaster when my then-girlfriend didn’t like how much I worked yet wanted to have higher limits on my credit cards that she used to shop with. When I told her those two things were mutually exclusive, she got mad and cheated on me with some muscled-up bodybuilder.

Great. Now, I’m in a bad mood from just the thought of that selfish bitch.

Allison starts talking about something that I’m only half paying attention to, and apparently, she can tell.

“Aiden, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Just promise me something.”

I’m hesitant to agree to anything she asks me to promise her, but I’m about over this conversation.

“What?” I ask.

“Just for once in your life, let loose and have some fun. Romy is going to be stuck with you for an entire week. Don’t be your typical grumpy self. Make it fun for her.”

“I’m not grumpy,” I argue.

“Yeah, sure. And I love dick.”

“Allison! Gross!” I cry.

“I said I don’t like it. I was being sarcastic,” she groans.

“I still don’t like hearing my sister saying the word dick.”

“Promise me, Aiden, and I won’t say it anymore.”

I know she’s probably full of shit, but I’m ready to end this conversation, so I promise anyway and hang up the phone.

After I hit the END button, my eyes flick up, and I see Romy doing a little jog out to her car. She’s bundled up in her oversized coat, looking like an Eskimo.

She roots around in her old beat-up car for a moment before reappearing, holding her phone charger.

She heads back inside but drops the little white cord on the way. I watch her struggle to bend over and pick it back up with her mittens still on. It takes her a minute to finally grab it. When she does, she quickly shuffles back inside.

Romy isn’t quite cut out for Minnesota winters. Maybe this trip to Florida will do her some good. Hell, maybe it’ll help me to thaw out too—in the metaphorical sense anyway. I’m basically a grizzly bear, so the cold doesn’t bother me.

Watching Romy run back inside, shivering the whole way, I made two crucial decisions.

One, I’m going to listen to Allison and try to relax and let loose a little on this trip.

And two, I really need to get Romy a space heater.

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