My phone buzzes with a text the second we’re parked.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: You cock guzzling jizz whore. You just left me here with the prankster couple from hell? A bone?!
UNKNOWN NUMBER: *ALONE not a bone!
Um… the fuck?
ME: Freakshow… btw I think you spell it gizz. Don’t quote me on that though.
Immediately, there’s another text to come through.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: OMG!!! Sorry! That wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Rudy.
Who the hell is Rudy?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: RUBY! Ducking phone.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I give up. Sorry. Somehow my phone synced with hers and now I have all her contacts, and I keep sending messages to the wrong people because my fingers hit the wrong names. She’s programmed as Jizz Whore which is alphabetically after Jax.
Bella. That’s the only explanation for all this randomness. It can only be Bella.
Me: Still think you spelled jizz wrong.
And now I’m inviting more crazy text conversations with the queen of random. Rolling my eyes, I put my phone down and ignore it when it buzzes again. I’m really glad to be away from Sterling Shore for a while.
Chapter 5
BO
I dread being in the bedroom with no curtains. Oh... shit... Bedroom! Oh no! I didn’t think this through. If Bora doesn’t get here, Jaxon is going to expect...
Ah, hell.
“You look pale, babe,” Jaxon says, his eyes studying me intensely.
My lips move as my mouth goes drier than cotton, but no words come out. What can I possibly say?
His eyes soften and he blows out a breath of amusement. “You don’t have to be so nervous. You’ve met my mom before, and I’ve told you about everyone else.”
Shit! They’ll expect me to know their names!
He hops out to start unpacking our luggage. I dial Bora—who has my new, perfectly working phone—once again, praying she answers my damn phone.
“You sure do call yourself a lot,” the familiar voice of a bored diva says.
My eyes widen in stunned surprise that she actually answers, and I hop out of the SUV and start toward the ocean. Jaxon tilts his head in question, and I hold up a finger as I put distance between us, staying out of earshot.
“Bo?” she prompts.
“Where the hell have you been?” I hiss, wishing I could yell at her right now.
It might very well be the first time I ever yelled at anyone if I could yell.
“In the New York meeting I had scheduled all week long. It took several hours, numerous drinks, and one hell of a party night, but I closed the deal. Pretty Posh just got twice the floor space in all the major retail stores.”
I’m torn between jumping up and down and cursing her. I forgot about the damn meeting. How? That’s where Bora shines—charming people into doing whatever she asks. I’m the behind the scenes girl that does all the grunt work, only designing when I have a free second.
“Where are you?” she asks as the ocean grows louder, the waves crashing into each other.