Page 4 of Royal Bosshole

“Something like that,” I said, staring down into my drink.

“Out with it. What’s up?” April and Stevie stared at me, and I knew they weren’t going to let up until I told them.

“Hey, this whole stare down is usually me and Stevie’s thing. Against you, April. When you were keeping all those secrets from us about Caleb.”

Laughing, April shrugged. “What can I say? The tables have turned, my friend. Now, spill. What’s the deal?”

I spun the straw in my drink and said, “I met someone today.”

“Met someone?!” Stevie cried far too loudly and started to clap. “Yes! Please tell us everything. Is he hot?”

Yes. So hot.

“No, not like that. I mean—” I started to blush. Why on earth was I blushing? “I meant, I met someone at the coffeeshop today. He’s offering me a job, but he’s from Coffee on the Go, my archenemy. Probably wants me to give up the biz and join forces.”

Stevie frowned. “So, he’s not hot?”

“Are you even listening?” I asked, unable to stop the corners of my mouth from turning up a little.

“Ah, heishot,” April said knowingly, pointing at me. “I can always tell when Lily thinks someone is hot. She starts to blush down here,” she pointed to her neck. “And then it slowly makes its way up and up.”

“Stop it, please! You’re killing me!” I said, and they both burst into a fit of giggles. “He’s hot. Super-hot. Like painfully hot. Is that better?”

I could see him in front of me again. Those eyes. Those incredible green eyes. That mouth, molded to perfection.

“Yes, thank you,” Stevie said, and I thanked God that she pulled me out of my dangerous reverie. “So, what’s the job?”

I pulled out the piece of paper he’d given me and handed it over. They checked it out and nodded along appreciatively.

“Looks like you’ll be a jack of all trades. Good money, too,” Stevie said.

She was always sensible.

“But what about the shop? I can’t just leave, even if the money would be great.” I glanced at April, and she smiled at me.

“Maybe leave it to Jen for a while,” Stevie suggested, handing the paper back to me. “You could take some time off, and she knows what to do. That way, you wouldn’t have to just close and lose money. Maybe it’ll give you some ideas on how to ramp up your own business. You know, keep your enemies closer, that sort of thing.”

I bit my lip, thinking it over. It was possible, but it grated on me that I would be working for the competition. Yet, as my eyes flit over the salary again, I knew that I shouldn’t really be looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” I folded up the paper and put it away. “Speaking of enemies…” I trailed off, spotting Sadie Smith in the crowd.

Sadie wasn’t my enemy, per se, but more like a nemesis. She was the one who’d stolen Parker Paxton from me. She was perfect in every way, petite and cute and blonde and smiling. And seeing her made my mood sour even more.

“Forget her,” Stevie said. “Come on. Singing will make you feel better. It always does.” She stood and reached a hand down to me.

“But my—” I paused, not about to admit that I was getting sick again. “All right, all right.”

I didn’t want to go on that stage. Not really. Not ever if I was being honest with myself.

How perfect was that for someone who wanted to sing for a living?

Not wanting to show that sweat was taking over and my hands were shaking like leaves, I plastered on a smile.

We picked out our song, and once it started, I just closed my eyes and sang the words, my throat begging me to stop the whole way through. But no way was I going to lose to our karaoke rivals.

Once I got home, I drank tea and a little whiskey to soothe my throat, and when I sank into bed, I thought about Mr. Perry. I would call him tomorrow, but something told me that his being hot would cause a problem. A big one.

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