Page 110 of Unbossly Manners

* * *

“Just a sip?” Evie batted her eyes at Jackson, holding up a champagne flute.

He shook his head and took the glass from her, passing it to me.

“Peyton, please?” Evie widened her big brown eyes, pleading.

I laughed. “Not a chance. You’re fifteen.”

I glanced at Kat, worried she might think I’d stepped out of line, parenting Evie, but Kat was entwined in Devan’s arms at the far end of the table, kissing and canoodling.

It was Evie’s birthday and we were celebrating at a beer garden in Williamsburg, where one of her friend’s bands was playing. It was a crisp fall day, and heat lamps were placed throughout the courtyard. Kids ran around playing tag, families enjoyed an early dinner, friends gathered around long picnic tables drinking beer and playing board games.

We’d claimed two tables near the stage and ordered plates of nachos, sausages, and other nibbles.

Shortly after Jackson and I got together, Devan had traveled back from India, confessing to Kat that he’d been miserable without her and begged her to come back with him. I’m not sure what was agreed upon, but she spent the following month with him, and they’d come back enraptured, hardly leaving each other’s side.

“Where’s Selena?” Evie asked, Sasha, giggling beside her.

I glanced at my phone. “She texted that she’d be here in ten minutes.”

Evie and Sasha glanced at each other conspiratorially. Then asked, “Does she have a girlfriend?”

I eyed them suspiciously. “No. Why?”

“No reason,” Evie chirped, and they laughed giddily, then glanced at Sasha’s mother. “Tell her to find us when she gets here.” They scurried off to talk to their friend that was setting up his drums.

“What was that about?” Jackson asked, pulling me into his side. He didn’t like me to be far from him when we were together, and I wasn’t complaining one bit.

“I think they want to set Selena up with Sasha’s mom,” I said. “Do you think that would work?”

“A Russian and a Latina? It’ll either be fire or ice. Either would be scary.”

I laughed and kissed him. After three months, I still felt the spark whenever I touched him.

“Is the deal almost closed? Finally?” I asked.

I’d hardly seen him in the past week. He’d been meeting with the lawyers from NOW, finalizing everything for the deal that was meant to close in six days. I had no idea it took so long for one company to buy another.

“Yep.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “You’ll have your boyfriend back soon.”

“It hasn’t been that bad.” I slid my eyes to him coquettishly.

We had a code at work when one of us had a free moment, and I’d scurry to his office, lock the door, and use the time in the most delicious way. I suspected people at work had caught on, but so far no one had stopped us.

His gaze fell to my sweater, which fit snug across my chest, my nipples hard from the cold blast of wind that swept through the courtyard.

“Fuck. Why don’t you ever wear a bra?” he asked, heat searing his voice.

“Easier for you to feel me up,” I said. “Do you want me to start wearing bras?”

His palm slid under my shirt and he quickly swiped it over my breast then pulled his hand out.

“Fuck no. But I do love you in pants. I like a little mystery.” He pulled me against him, and I felt his cock hard against my thigh. “Really? At your daughter’s birthday party?”

“She’s engrossed with the band. I bet we could sneak away for a quickie. I checked out the bathrooms. They’re singles, with lots of space.”

I wrinkled my nose.

---