“Well, you guys have fun.”
“You need a ride home? I can come get you.”
“No. I’m good. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I squeeze Axl one more time. “You lay off that root beer, you hear?”
His blonde curls bob as he giggles, but the face he gives me is all cheek, and all one hundred percent Dash.
“Hey, there’s my favorite family.” Judah pulls up alongside us dressed to the nines in an emerald–green women’s business suit with dramatic shoulder pads. Their dreadlocks are piled on top of their head in a colorful messy bun, and their cheekbones are highlighted to the heavens. They look like a million bucks. I glance down at my own vintage floral boho gown that I spent way too much money on for a single parent and my tan leather booties and feel woefully underdressed.
“Hi, Joodah,” Axl says, waving vigorously.
“Hey, little one.” Judah waves back.
“I like your pink car.”
“Thanks, friend. I love your PJs.”
As Judah and Axl enjoy an in-depth discussion about the merits of rainbows vs. dinosaurs on pajamas, Gabe surprises me by pulling me in and whispering, “I know this crosses our invisible line in the sand, but you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Freckles. And the only thing more perfect than you in this dress, is thinking about you taking it off at the end of the night.”
A gasp escapes my lips as his hand on my back presses me closer, and I feel his hard dick through his jeans. Gabe brushes his soft lips to my cheek and pulls away, and I practically float toward the car, open the door, and climb in thinking about his dick buried balls deep inside me as Judah gives me a knowing look.
“Don’t wait up.” I wave as we peel away from the curb, and then I collapse back against the seat and puff out my cheeks.
“Girl, when in the hell are you gonna start banging that boy again? I can see his blue balls from here.”
“Um ... never.” I shake my head. “You know how it is between us. I can’t sleep with him just to scratch an itch. We both deserve more than that, and Axl does too.”
“Okay then, when are you gonna let Mr. Boss Man stick it to you?”
I roll my eyes and glare at my friend. “Do not start this again. Arturo has moved on. He’s dating that woman from Orange County.”
“It’s so cute how in denial you are. She dumped his ass two months ago.”
I make a shocked face and whack Judah’s arm. “What? No. I spoke to him about her just last week.”
“Then he was lying to save face. Mr. Boss Man never got you out of his system, just like your ex.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is, and you know it.”
I shake my head and stare at the streets of Venice as they whiz by.Is he right? Is Arturo still harboring feelings for me?Oh, shit.What am I getting into tonight?
Christmas and New Year are always our busiest times at the restaurant, so Arturo liked to shut down mid-January and hold our staff Christmas party then. Most of us appreciated the break much more after the mad holiday rush, but now I’m no longer just excited to drink and have fun with my friends.No. Now I’m wondering why the hell Arturo would lie about his recent breakup and why he felt he couldn’t just tell me.
We pull up to the curb and climb out of the pink Wrangler, and despite how much I loathe these little conversations about my sex life—or lack thereof—I slide my arm in Judah’s and we enter the restaurant.
Everyone is already seated in the courtyard, from the other waitresses to Chef and the Boss Man in question, but he jumps up and comes to greet us, clearly already a few tequilas in. Judah embraces him first, and I give everyone at the table a little wave as I wait. When I glance back again, Arturo’s eyes slowly roll over me from head to toe and that passion and longing I thought was all done with catapults itself front and center in my mind’s eye.
Shit. I still want to fuck my boss. And judging by the way he’s removing my wrap dress with those dark melty eyes, he wants that too.This is not good.
“Lo.” He pulls me in for a warm hug and I embrace him and breathe in his woodsy and clean linen scent. I don’t miss the way Chef and the others are eyeing us suspiciously, and I recognize that this hug may be going on a little too long between a boss and his employee, but I don’t care. Arturo isn’t just my boss, or a manI effectively ruined my marriage over. He’s my friend, and try as I might to stomp them down and suppress my feelings, I never really have.
“You’re a vision.”
“Look who’s talking, Boss Man,” I tease and pull away, and then I greet everyone else with kisses and hugs and take the only available seat at the table, at the other end from Arturo. Probably for the best.
We moved inside the restaurant when the sea breeze got too chilly, so we could all be closer to the bar, but when I come back from the bathroom, Arturo sits alone.