He rolls his eyes and pushes me off his lap. “I needed something to take the edge off. Don’t fucking start, Emily.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he snaps as he turns back to his desk.
“Three days until our weekend away,” I whisper.
His phone rings, and he glances at the screen. “Can’t come soon enough. I have to take this. See you tonight.”
I kiss him softly, and then he answers the call. His voice instantly turns to the authoritative tone he uses with everyone else.
I stand at the door and watch him as he listens. He mindlessly picks up the scotch and sips it before he talks.
My heart drops.
Many a stressed-out CEO has been found in the bottom of a Blue Label scotch bottle.
Please, not mine . . .
I look around guiltily and then back down to my phone, and I put into the search bar “budget weekends away.”
“God,” I sigh. “Where can I take him?”
“Are you still going on about that?” Aaron asks.
Molly slides her chair to look over my shoulder.
“I want to take him somewhere that money can’t buy.” I twist my lips as I think. “It has to be something really special.”
Aaron chuckles. “Your special and Jameson Miles’s special may be a little different.”
“The thing is, when he’s at my apartment, he detaches from who he is. I want him to realize that we don’t need to live in a swanky apartment to be happy.”
“You’re fucking crazy.” Molly sighs. “What I wouldn’t give to live in his swanky apartment. Anybody would be happy as a pig in mud there. When are you inviting us over, bitch?”
“Right?” Aaron laughs.
“Hmm.” I narrow my eyes as I think.
“What about camping?” Molly says.
My eyes flick to her. “Oh, but we don’t have a tent or anything, and I won’t have time to buy it.”
“I’ve got it all. You can borrow ours. Michael and the kids go camping all the time.”
I stare at her for a moment. “Do you reckon he’s ever gone camping before?”
“Umm . . . that would be a definite no.” Aaron widens his eyes to accentuate his point. “Nobody goes camping of their own free will.”
Excitement fills me. “Really? Could we borrow your things? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Take it. Michael and the kids are going to Dallas on Friday to see his parents for a week. They won’t be using it.”
“Maybe.” I smile as the idea takes shape in my head. “But the car,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Take Michael’s pickup truck, Bessie. Give him the full Swamp People experience.”
“Really?” I smirk as I imagine Jameson in a pickup.