Page 48 of Courageous Hearts

“I have some things to do before work,” I lie, refusing to be that fucking thirsty. We’ve only been together a day. A day.

“Okay, sure,” Jameson replies, nonplussed. “I’ll go get dressed.”

He leaves the room with a smile, and I slump down into my seat.

Fuck me.

“Oh my God, did you two do it?” Bridget whispers in my ear, her hair tickling the side of my head.

“What?” I ask in alarm, whipping my head away from Jameson, who’s behind the bar serving customers.

Bridget spins me around, her eyes wide and assessing. She’s completely dressed for tonight, makeup and all. I still need to get into my clothes, but I couldn’t resist taking a moment to sneak into the hall and ogle my…my Jameson.

“You’re looking at him like you want to eat him. And I’ve seen him look at you the same way,” she says.

I wince, grabbing Bridget’s hand and leading her back to the dressing room. Our coworkers are inside, getting ready for tonight, so I bring Bridget over to a fairly quiet corner where we can have a little more privacy.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you were interested in Jameson, and I didn’t mean to steal him out from under you—”

Bridget cuts me off, shaking her head rapidly, a look of pure incredulity on her face. “Bo, it’s not like I called dibs or licked the man. Sure, I was interested for all of a hot minute, but Jameson is obviously taken with you. So?”

She looks at me expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer to her original question, and I breathe out in relief that she’s not upset with me.

“We’re…datin’,” I finally answer, my cheeks heating as Bridget squeals quietly.

“That’s so great! And hot.” She fans her face. “Whew.”

“Bridge,” I groan.

“Fine, I’ll hush up about it,” she says, shaking her head and smiling at me indulgently. “But I’m happy for you, Bo.”

“Thanks.” I’m happy, too. “I need to catch Missa before the show starts.”

“Yeah, all right. Bring me a Sprite on your way back?” she asks, dropping into a lounge chair and batting her eyelashes at me.

With a chuckle, I head for the door.

Missa is in her office when I knock, and she waves me in. My boss is wearing a beautiful silver gown today, her hair stick-straight and capped in a fringed headdress.

“What can I do for you?” she asks as I take a seat in front of her desk.

“I wanted to ask about takin’ a week off next month.”

“Okay. Let’s take a look,” she replies easily, tapping her mouse a couple times to pull up the employee calendar. “When were you thinking?”

“Maybe the second full week in October?”

She nods. “That works. No one’s requested that block yet. Want me to mark you down?”

“Yes, please.”

“You’re all set,” she says with a smile. “Vacation?”

“More like…a family visit,” I reply.

“Ah,” she answers. Luckily, the ringing phone saves me from further discussion about said family. “Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it,” I say, getting out of my seat.

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