“Fisher is the most talented human I have ever met. He’s always been good at everything. Such a natural. But what’s it like to work for him?” She reached over and squeezed his leg, his upper thigh.
I glanced up in the rearview mirror and caught his gaze on me. Totally unreadable.
“Fisher’s an okay boss.” I glanced out my window.
Angie laughed, moving her hand from his leg to the nape of his neck. “I can see that about you. I bet it’s your intensity. Such a perfectionist, huh, Fish?”
He didn’t respond. I felt sure he had some expression to give her, but I didn’t want to see it.
Babe … Fish …
Lucky for me, Angie shifted the conversation to her mom and that gobbled up the rest of the drive to the venue—where I couldn’t get out of the SUV quick enough. Lucky for me, Christina and her boyfriend were waiting at the door. I ran to her, anything to get away from the fated love birds.
“Eek! Reese!” She gave me a huge hug.
“It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so freaking much.” I released her and glanced at the handsome guy with the richest dark brown skin and black hair I had ever seen.
“Reese, this is Jamison. Jamison this is my BFF since … gah … forever. She left me for church school, and I’ve never forgiven her.” Christina winked.
I wondered if she had told Jamison about the fate of my parents and why I was forced to leave her for “church school.”
Sensing someone right at my back, I turned. “Oh …” I gave Fisher a tiny smile, but there was no way I was looking at Angie. “Hey, this is my friend Christina and her boyfriend Jamison. Guys, this is my boss, Fisher and …” What? His girlfriend? “Angie.”
“Nice to meet you,” they all seemed to chime at once.
“So … where’s your rock star boyfriend?” Christina nudged me.
“Fish, you didn’t tell me Arnie and Reese were a thing,” Angie wrapped her arm around Fisher’s arm and gave him a pouty face.
I wanted to vomit.
“He just met her yesterday and invited her and us to his show. I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘together.’” He brushed past us to the box office and claimed our tickets.
“But you can and should tell everyone he’s your boyfriend.” My BFF winked at me while taking Jamison’s hand and following Fisher and Angie into the venue.
It wasn’t a big venue, more of a dive bar with a stage. I was surprised tickets were required at all. But there was a table right by the stage reserved for us.
Christina didn’t even take a seat; she sat on Jamison’s lap while Angie pulled her chair so close to Fisher’s chair she might as well have perched onto his lap. I sat off to the side, by myself.
“Can I get everyone drinks?” the waitress asked.
Angie ordered a martini. Fisher got a beer. Jamison ordered beer too and had to show an ID. Then Christina ordered a glass of wine and sure enough … she had an ID too.
“And for you?” the waitress looked at me.
“Water. Thanks.”
“I can go to the bar in a sec and get you something,” Christina whispered in my ear. “I can’t believe you don’t have a fake ID.”
“I’m good.” I gave her a tight smile. “Really.”
Fisher eyed me every two seconds, and I knew this because my gaze kept drifting to him as well.
Shortly after our drinks were served, the band came onto the stage while the bar erupted into loud clapping, hooting, and even a few screamers behind us.
“Whoa … you are so getting some of that tonight,” Christina said loud enough for Fisher and everyone else to hear. “He’s hot, Reese.”
Jamison poked her in the side and gave her an eye roll. Angie laughed. I shifted my gaze to Arnie, and Christina was right … he was hot under the lights. Tattoos. That wild, blond tipped hair. And a guitar hugging his body.
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it from my handbag.
Fisher: You are NOT getting any of that tonight.
When I glanced up, his head was still bowed to his phone.
Reese: Sure thing, BABE! (eye roll emoji)
He lifted his face from his phone and frowned at me. I turned my attention to the stage.
After the final song, Arnie took off his shirt and tossed it to me. I grinned as the women in the venue went crazy, including Christina, despite her boyfriend right next to her. Arnie nodded for us to make our way backstage.
Christina and Jamison headed through the gated off area along with Angie while Fisher stayed back as if he was simply letting everyone else go first.
Except me.
He slid his finger though the belt loop at the back of my shorts to stop me. Then he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Tell Arnie to do his own fucking laundry.”