The Boss's Son Box Set

“Bossy,” he accused in a joking manner and she giggled, feeling some of the knot of misery start to loosen.

“Am I forgiven?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you will be,” he said affectionately.

Chapter 10

Britt spent the next morning in a flutter, working out, deep conditioning her hair and then deciding that made it too limp and washing it all over again. She painted her nails. She rubbed self tanner on her legs and checked her butt in the mirror and did a few squats just for good measure. She wanted this to be a reunion to remember, but she kept having to swat away doubts. What if he wouldn’t forgive her? What if he just wanted to get her hopes up and then dump her right to her face? What if he didn’t like her as well now as he did before? She was pretty sure they were all junior high concerns, unworthy of a grown woman with an incredible boyfriend. A man who had finished up a major work project early just to come home to her sooner. A man who wanted to be with her so much that he put up with her moods and made her laugh and sent her a good luck troll just to make her smile. He was a keeper and she’d nearly thrown it all away.

Britt made a list of what she wanted to do to show him how much he meant to her. First, they’d go to Tamarind and have a nice dinner. She’d hang on his every word and learn al

l about his trip to Hong Kong. She had loved hearing him talk about India the night they’d met so this would be fascinating, especially since she’d get to see the enthusiasm transform his face as he talked passionately about his travels. Then they’d get the dessert sampler like last time but she wouldn’t poach the chocolate. He could have the chocolate, all of it if he wanted. They’d go back to her apartment and she would open a bottle of wine...wine, she had to go get wine! She hurried down to the corner shop and bought a bottle. She looked at the vintage he’d ordered at the Ocean Club on their date but it was six hundred dollars so she went with a nice thirty-dollar bottle of merlot. She added some cheese and some succulent looking red grapes to her basket, along with some good dark chocolate squares—rich, decadent tastes to complement the wine and set the stage for some decadent reunion as well. Smiling, she tossed a box of condoms in her basket as well.

She put fresh sheets on the bed. She debated whether buying flowers would make the apartment look more welcoming or just make him suspicious that Greg might have sent them to her. She decided against the flower idea for that reason. Britt spent the afternoon trying on and discarding practically everything her closet contained. The tight blue dress from the night they’d met was too obvious, almost too much like a costume with built-in expectations. She had enough expectations for both of them but she wanted to wear something fresh. He’d already seen her best dress and her designer tunic. She picked through her closet distastefully.

Britt tried on every dress she had, then moved on to the skirts. She had a black one that, strictly speaking, was the bottom half of her interview suit, but it looked nice enough that she could wear it with some heels and a sparkly top. She picked the pink one with the cold shoulder sleeves. It had sort of a disco feel that lent an edge to her otherwise career-oriented polyester skirt. Stacking bangles on one arm, she surveyed her reflection with satisfaction and then checked her phone for the hundredth time. At last she just called him.

“Hey, stranger. When do you land?”

“Aw, I got in a couple hours ago,” he said and she could practically hear him shrug.

“I thought—never mind. I just want to get together. Are you free now?”

“I’m on my way out to see some of the guys from the band. We’re getting rusty with no practice for weeks. Maybe I’ll hit you up later.”

“Later,” she said faintly. “Could I, I don’t know, come to your practice or something? I miss seeing you. I know you’re mad but...”

“I’m not mad.”

“You didn’t call me. I spent all day getting ready to have a romantic evening with you...” She stopped because she heard the nagging in her voice, the resentment.

“I didn’t know you were going to do that. It’s not like I told you to make some kind of preparations, Britt,” he said in an exasperated tone. “If you need me to come by there before I go to practice, I’ll stop in and say hi.”

She shut her eyes. It felt like a slap in the face, like something a teenager said to his mom when he wanted to go out instead of coming to a family gathering. It sickened her that she had become this annoying obligation in the space of a few hours. He’d obviously been stewing on her transgressions during his long flight and was ready to make her suffer for them. She sighed loudly.

“What?” he demanded.

“If you’re going to punish me, just say so,” she managed, angrily fighting back tears. “Last night when we hung up, it seemed like you could forgive me. Today it’s like you will put up with me for five minutes if I make you.”

“If you’re going to make a fuss—”

“I am, dammit! I’m going to make a fuss. Because I think this is worth fighting for. I think you are worth fighting for, even if you’re the person I have to fight,” she said.

“Look, we can try to do dinner with my dad tomorrow night if he’s free.”

“Not if you don’t want to work through this and be with me! I’m sorry. I will do everything I can from hear on out to prove to you that I only want you. But I won’t go sit uncomfortably at dinner with your father while you ignore me and act like you’re being forced to sit beside me.”

“What is this about? Are you shocked that I’m grouchy after a seventeen hour flight?”

“No, I just don’t like you being mad at me.”

“Tough. I’m mad at you. I’ll come see you later. I’m going to go to practice and then take a nap. I’ll call you.”

“I wish I’d been the first person you wanted to see,” she said sadly.

“So do I,” he told her and it stung.

Britt gave herself ten minutes to cry. It took twice that long. She pressed her hands over her mouth to try to stop the sobs but they just kept coming, racking her with sadness and hurt and disappointment in herself most of all. He had snubbed her because he was angry and hurt that she went out with two guys while he was gone. It made sense. It wasn’t disproportionate. It wasn’t excessive. It just hurt and she didn’t like to be hurt, nor to think that he enjoyed punishing her this way. She washed her face and drank a glass of water and reapplied her makeup. She was going to act casual. She wasn’t going to let him see how devastated she was.