Big Pickle: A Secret Boss Romantic Comedy - JJ Knight Page 0,31

then, of course, this recent display of his perfect body, our connection is more like a bomb exploding.

I sidestep away from the table. “Thanks for the help today. I’ve gotta run.”

“Can I walk you to your car?”

For some crazy reason, my head fills with the torrid vision of us in the deserted downtown parking garage, him slamming me against the side of my car, my knees locked around his waist, our mouths fiery in a heated kiss.

I’m still seeing it when I say, “No. I’m fine. See you tomorrow.”

I hurry to my office and pretend to mess with my phone. I don’t relax until I hear the back door open and close.

He’s gone.

What’s going on? With him? With me?

This is a complication I don’t need.

15

Jace

Everything in my life is upside down.

I used to stay out late, dine at fine restaurants, hang out with beautiful, wealthy, well-connected movers and shakers in society. I partied hard, slept late, and drank only the best tequila.

Now it’s a Friday night, I’m wearing a T-shirt featuring a dancing pickle, and watching some long-haired dude in a hot tub on Netflix because Nova told me she liked the show.

While she’s on a date with someone else.

Damn.

What the hell am I doing? I keep flirting with her even though I know I shouldn’t. Lately, my brain has been consumed with images of her half naked on the mixing table, her knees spread.

That can’t be sanitary.

Now, see, that sort of thinking is making me crazy.

Sex and sanitary do not go in the same sentence.

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. I’m exhausted. Frustrated. I need to blow off some steam.

In fact, I do need a shower. I smell like a walking deli.

Among other things.

I remember what I was doing just a couple of hours ago, elbow deep in toilet water, and have to shove that thought away. Nobody can know about that. Nobody.

The next episode of the show rolls around, but I pause the streaming to stand up and stretch. This is not how I expected to spend the year I turned thirty. Alone in my condo after scrubbing a bathroom.

While the only woman I’m interested in goes out with someone else.

My phone buzzes. I bend down to the coffee table to glance at it.

Great. Max.

I’m tempted to ignore it, but truth be told, I could use some thoughts on my next move. So I pick up the call.

“Jace? It’s a Friday night! Why is it so quiet?”

Shit. If he spreads the word to the rest of the family that I’ve become a homebody, I will never live it down.

“I’m in the bathroom of the club.”

I hit play on the television and crank the volume. When the noise fills the room, I shout into the phone, “Every time they open the door, it’s too loud. Hold on, let me go outside.”

I gradually turn down the volume, then slam the front door.

“That’s better,” I say.

There’s silence for a moment on the other end.

“You still there, Max?” I ask.

“Jace, my brother. That noise was episode three of the Witcher. Are you at home watching Netflix by yourself on a Friday night?”

Shit.

“Was there a reason for this call?” I’m not going to give Max the satisfaction of saying he’s right.

“I wanted to check in with you, bro. You’ve gone radio silent on everybody, and you have a situation down there. Did you figure out where you were bleeding money?”

“Not yet. But Nova’s working on it. I tried going in to look at the books when the deli was closed, but she was working and nearly busted me.”

“I don’t think it’s her.”

“You’re judging her based on one phone call?”

“Not completely. If you had your head out of your ass, you’d know the accountant has been monitoring our accounts closely for this challenge. So, unlike the aggregate statements we got a month ago, we can all see what every brother is doing in terms of sales, expenses, profits and losses.”

“Dude. That’s all Greek to me.”

“Right. You got a degree in Humanities or some bullshit.”

“The study of humans is important, asshole.”

“Yeah, I know exactly how you like to examine humans, particularly the female variety. But that’s not the point. You’re a smart guy. You can figure it out. It’s numbers. Red ones go out. Green ones go in. Make sure there are more green ones than red ones.”

“Thanks for the kindergarten lesson.” I plunk down onto my sofa. “Obviously you looked. So, give it to me. What did you see?”

He chuckles.

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