Page 28 of Royal Bosshole

“Yeah, right. She’ll punch me in the middle of the bar.”

“NowthatI want to see.”

“Shut up,” I ordered a third beer, and we were quiet for a little bit before Peter spoke up.

“So, like, how will you know if you’ve found your princess?”

“What do you mean?” I frowned, my thoughts more full of Lily than the princess.

“Like, you’ll have her name, of course, but then if you had to make sure, what would you check?” Peter lifted a curious brow, and I sighed.

“Well, these are pretty weak, but the line is meant to be exceptionally talented at singing, opera specifically, and there would be a birthmark. On her lower back. A light tan color but pretty big. It’s a genetic trait.”

“Okay, that’s super specific,” Peter replied, and I noticed that the girls had left the booth and were heading up to the stage. “There goes your girl.”

And as the first note rang out with Lily behind the mic, he nudged me. “Well, you can count Lily out. I wouldn’t say singing is her strong suit.”

I frowned. There was only the tiniest part of me that was disappointed.

* * *

LILY

Okay, so I knew that it didn’t really make sense, but I had a thing about crowds. As in, I didn’t like them. I didn’t consider myself an introvert, not really, but performing in front of a big crowd made my stomach feel like mush and my legs feel like jelly.

Not unlike the way you feel around James.

And that was why that evening was even more difficult to sing out in front of a crowd, because I spotted James in said crowd. Looking fucking hot.

As April, Stevie, and I were singing, April looked my way with a grin, and I knew she’d spotted him too. Everyone had now Googled the super-hot boss of mine who ate pussy like nobody’s business just on a whim. But I never expected him to be here. Was he following me?

I sang, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not only that, but I was too nervous to actually put any feeling into it, and so when the song was over, I handed back the mic with red cheeks. I hoped my friends didn’t say anything; it was not my finest performance, and I knew it.

When we stopped at a high-top table, April gripped my arm. “Look no further, but sexy European boss is here. Who knew that a waistcoat could be so hot?”

I knew. I had always known.

Oh god. I would die if there were suspenders under there. I wasn’t exactly sure where I got my old-timey turn-ons from, but it might have been due to the old movies my grandma used to make me watch. I had fallen in love with Clark Gable, Humphrey Bogart, and Cary Grant and never looked back.

“So what?” I said, desperate for a drink.

Stevie walked up to us, our old drinks in hand, and she passed them out. “I know we asked someone to watch these, but we really shouldn’t leave our drinks out unattended, ladies.”

“Look, go talk to him!” April prodded.

“Who? Boss guy? I clocked him ages ago. And yes, please do go talk to him,” Stevie said.

“I—”

“Lily.” That voice worked wonders on me every time.

It was probably good he hardly spoke to me after the kiss at work. Because if he had, I would have tried to jump his bones even though I was still mad at him.

“Hi,” I said, turning to James.

He was there on his own, and I spied his friend still over at the bar counter. The man waved with a big smile, and I nearly laughed.

“These are my friends, April and Stevie.”

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