Hot Boss - Anne Marsh Page 0,33
the calendar.” Our fingers and arms brush as we navigate the length of the table. Something inside me aches a little that she knows what I want and don’t want on my plate. “Because I’m certain that it’s my month to be the boss.”
Hazel frowns, clearly flipping through a mental calendar. “Nice try. Were you planning on being a hard-ass boss or just a hot boss?”
Heh. I lean closer because while I’m happy to share my fantasies with Hazel, I don’t need to broadcast them to the entire Coleman clan. “I’m voting hot. I could also do bossy, bastard or bondage.”
“Points for the alliteration.” Hazel sounds a little breathless and I can’t help but wonder which word she’s thinking about.
“Should I elaborate, too?” I sound hoarse, but hello. Sexy banter at the Coleman brunch is a first for me.
The more important question is why Hazel sounds like she’s doing some thinking of her own. I’m betting it’s the word bossy that does it for her, or maybe I’m just being realistic about my ability to let Hazel take charge. The best I can manage is a fifty-fifty split, so it would be easiest if she had secret erotic fantasies about me giving her sexy bedroom commands in the boardroom, where anyone could walk in on us. The orange sundress she’s wearing is definitely fantasy fuel. The skirt floats around her legs and I could flip it up, bend her over the table...
A voice from far too close has us springing apart. “You’re holding up the line.”
Katie, sister number one, taps me on the shoulder, indicating that I should move on. We do, taking our plates over to the crowd spread out beneath the big trees. There’s California champagne with slightly squashy blackberries in Margie’s mismatched—or totally unique—collection of glass flutes. Hazel sits cross-legged beside me, sundress carefully tucked beneath her knees, waving her glass as she makes some point to her sister. The rest of us are one big, boneless clump, sort of like a Roman banquet except we’re reclining on Mexican blankets bought three for ten dollars in Tijuana.
I shovel my food in because I’m hungry and the Colemans like to Discuss Things. Not only do feelings get hurt and the volume level soar, but food fights also break out occasionally.
Sure enough, Em—sister number two—sets down her reusable plastic picnic plate and turns to Hazel. “Are you dating?”
“Nope.” Hazel shoves a forkful of pasta salad into her mouth, as if good manners would keep her family from poking their noses into her business.
“Why not?”
Hazel makes mock googly eyes. “I’m here with Jack. I don’t want to hurt his feelings by introducing another guy into our relationship.”
There’s a round of good-natured, mocking laughter. I’m not sure when the Colemans collectively got the idea that nothing romantic could ever be possible between Hazel and me. She’s a girl and I’m a guy, which checks both of our boxes, so it’s hypothetically possible.
Margie charges in. I suspect she’s motivated by the possibility of new grandbabies. “Jack doesn’t count. He won’t mind. Would you?”
Brown eyes drill into me. It’s easy to see where Hazel’s good looks come from. I just hope that Margie’s a shade less astute than her daughter, because explaining that I have carnal knowledge of said daughter would be awkward at best. I’m probably safe, though, since Hazel’s family has me firmly in the doesn’t-count camp.
Tread carefully. “I’m happy to cede my prior claim when Prince Charming comes along.”
“You know lots of guys.” Frankie, sister number three, joins the fray. “Can’t you fix her up with one of those VC guys you know? Pick someone successful. Rich. Not too much of an asshole.”
Frankie’s opinion about Silicon Valley investment circles is clear, but George the Git perks up. He’s willing to be supportive if it brings more business opportunities his way.
“You should settle down,” Katie announces. I’m sure what she really means is settle, and that pisses me off. Why should Hazel pair off with someone who doesn’t worship the ground she walks on?
“Hazel’s having a hard time choosing,” I tell the crowd of faces turned my way. “She has a crap ton of options and you don’t want her to make a mistake.”
“Really?” Em sounds skeptical, but Margie just looks hopeful. I know that they only want what’s best for Hazel, but their execution sucks.
“Scout’s honor.” I hold up two fingers. When Hazel elbows me, I add a third. “Hazel’s awesome. She shouldn’t settle for just anyone.”
Hazel looks like she’s