Page 84 of Rude Boss 2

She responds, “Good afternoon, Mr. DePaul. This is a nice party, and you have a lovely home.”

I hold her gaze. I didn’t mean to frown – it just happened. Pretending I don’t know her, that I don’tloveher, that she’s not my wife is proving to be more difficult than I initially thought it would be. Standing in front of her right now, I have this insatiable need to touch her – to take her upstairs and strip off that red dress and teach her a lesson for playing with my emotions.

“It’s the perfect day for a party,” Mrs. Wilburn says.

“Yeah, it is,” I say. “Did your husband make it this year?”

“Yeah, he’s over there stuffing his face.”

I glance over to where she’s looking. Then, while she’s distracted, I look at Quintessa. She looks like she wants to smile, but instead she turns away from me and checks out the scene.

Ms. Valentine and the purple-haired girl come back with drinks. I have to find a way to get Quintessa alone with me and away from them. I ask, “So, which of you ladies want the privilege to dance with the boss?”

When I ask the question, I’m staring directly at Quintessa. She knows what I want. Let’s see if she’ll give it to me…

Mrs. Wilburn says, “Not me. Not only do I have two left feet, but I have appetizers I need to finish.”

“And I need to make a run to the bathroom,” Ms. Valentine says and takes off.

“Wait up, Zee,” Mauve says. “I need to fix my mascara.”

“Looks like that leaves you and me, Ms. Bailey.”

She freezes. “Ugh…”

“All right now,” Mrs. Wilburn says. “Go on out there and cut a rug, Quintessa. Do it for the ‘gram.”

“Um, I think I should pass, Mr. DePaul,” Quintessa says. “I’m sure you can find a better dance partner.”

“Go on, Quintessa,” Mrs. Wilburn urges. “You can do it.”

I take Quintessa’s hand and say, “She most certainly can.”

Leading her to the dance floor – a designated area by the pool, I note how good her hand feels in mine because we’re in front of everyone. We’re not hiding.

We start off dancing a basic two-step. I ask, “Why were you late?”

“It was only by a few minutes, Essex.”

“Don’t care. Late is late, and I don’t believe you’ve answered my question.”

“Oh, I see. You’re on one today.”

I sneer. “I’mon one, but you got me out here looking like a fool?”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you serious right now?”

“What does it look like to you?”

She reads my eyes. “Wow.” She glances around us, making sure no one is privy to this conversation. Then she says, “I was late because I was sitting in a hot bath, trying to recover from all the things you did to me last night.”

“Then perhaps you should’ve stayed longer, because I’m gon’ mess all that up again tonight.”

“Can you lower your voice, please?”

“I’m not worried about anyone hearing anything I have to say where you are concerned. You’re lucky I even decided to go along with this lie of yours.”

“It’s not a lie—”

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