The Boss's Son Box Set

Britt couldn’t ignore the tingling in her palms, the rush of excitement she felt when he said that. A sort of enthusiasm she hadn’t felt about moving in with Kevin, her erstwhile boyfriend of half a year. She blatantly ogled Jack, just reveling in the sight of him, sitting there across from her. She wondered if everyone in Tamarind thought that a man as fine as him certainly didn’t belong at a table with someone like her, some accountant in a tight dress who was obviously trying too hard. For once, she didn’t really care what anyone else thought.

They talked a bit more...he told her about his favorite guitarists, and she admitted that she liked Santana “except for the long guitar riffs” which made him laugh.

“I’ll have to initiate you, teach you to appreciate the greats. I saw Kenny Wayne Shepard a couple years back. He’s my idol.”

“Is he...a country singer?”

“A blues guitarist, why?”

“That name...he has three names, I figured he was country,” she giggled.

“I think I need to stage a music intervention. But it looks like our food’s here.”

The server delivered the lavish meals and, at Britt’s request, replaced her empty margarita glass with red wine. She sipped it with approval.

“This looks delicious,” he said.

“So do you,” she blurted out and then laughed too loudly.

“Want a bite of my crustacean?” he offered, dunking a morsel of lobster in the drawn butter and offering it to her.

Without hesitating, Britt opened her lips and let him feed her. The lobster was tender and sweet, salty with slick butter. She licked her lips, meeting his eyes.

“Now I want a bite of that steak,” he said. She cut him a bite and held it out to him. He bit the meat off of her fork. She felt a sudden chill creep along her skin, a jolt of something suspiciously like desire.

“So what are you doing hanging out at Tamarind?” she asked.

“Oh, just cruising for women. I hear they get a lot of breakups out on the terrace,” he said breezily.

“Seriously,” she said.

“I was meeting a buddy of mine about the band, trying to see if we can lay down some tracks.”

“Any luck?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “I’ve been playing since I was in school. How long have you been...”

“Accounting? Since I graduated and got my CPA,” she said. “And before you ask, yes, it is super exciting.”

“It sounds that way.”

“I work for a consulting firm. I do the payroll and expenses and tax stuff. It’s pretty easy, actually, and t

he pay’s good.”

“So you don’t have the massive rush in April when everybody hasn’t filed their taxes yet?”

“Ugh, no. Not for me. I don’t do drive-thru 1040’s, although I did in college to get experience. People try to deduct the stupidest things. I mean, not to be judgmental, but Viagra is not a business expense,” she giggled.

Jack laughed along with her.

“And all these real estate agents trying to deduct their highlights and Spanx and arguing with me that it’s about presenting yourself as the public face of the business. It was crazy. The worst one, though, was the guy who was deducting thousands of dollars from trips to Sassy Sadie’s Lounge and swore that strip clubs were a business expense. He was a trucker. It’s not like he was entertaining clients to close a business deal. It was just near the truck stop!”

“Well, imagine you’re trying to break into the music business and get all these bar gigs where you play for free, just hoping someone in the crowd will download your songs or hire you to play a bar mitzvah or something and wham! You get his right in the face with underwear. Men’s underwear.”

“Did that really happen?”

“More than once and they were not clean,” he guffawed.