the truth. “Well, good for her.”
“You could always tell Miles no. He’s not your boss anymore.”
“He doesn’t have a lot of excitement in his life. I’ll let him have his fun if it saves me a trip.”
“Good thing, because we’ve spent the last two weeks busting our asses. We might set a record on fastest gala assembly in recorded history.”
“Always the over-achiever.”
She snorts, shaking her blonde head. “I’m actually looking forward to it. I haven’t been to a big party since I got married.”
“There you go.”
She rises on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “You’re an old softie, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. Now get to the hotel. I reserved the executive suite with a view of the water for you. It’s coastal chic, not a quilt or a doily in sight.”
“I remember it from your wedding. The northeastern crew will adore it. They’ll think they’re in the Hamptons.”
“We’ll take them all to the Tuna Tiki to remind them where they really are.”
I start to recoil at the low-rent tiki bar on the beach, but I remember one positive. “They have very good sushi.”
“Thank you!” Daisy slaps my arm. “One of these days, you’re going to stop being such an old fuddy-duddy.”
“If you’re implying I don’t know how to have fun, you know that’s wrong. I don’t care for places where I’ll be vomited on or have draft beer spilled down my back.”
“I told you not to wear your best blazer.”
“I don’t own cheap clothes.” We’re standing beside my black Tesla parked on the street.
“We’ll have to find you some play clothes, Captain Von Trapp. I think I have an old pair of drapes—”
“I’ll see you in the ballroom in the morning. In appropriate work attire.”
“Thanks for agreeing to help out. I know it’s not your thing.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You’re a good man, Spence.”
Glancing at the sky, I decide this was a mistake. “I’m an asshole. Don’t forget it.”
Chapter 9
Joselyn
“Hold it right there.” I’m on a ladder, blowtorch in hand.
JR is down below, bracing two tall metal rods as I weld them.
“Hurry up,” he grunts. “I can’t hold it much longer.”
Dark glasses are over my eyes, and a cascade of golden sparks flies around us as the pieces melt into one. My high-waisted jeans protect my legs from the fire, and my hair is piled on my head in a bun, covered with a handkerchief tied on top.
I’m Rosie the Riveter, and I applied red lipstick and tied my shirt in a knot at my waist to complete the look. I told myself it has nothing to do with Spencer calling me a vintage pinup.
It’s a total lie.
After several seconds of firing, the two beams are finally secure, and I climb down. JR leans to the side wincing, and I take a break to massage his mid-back.
“That feels good,” he grunts.
“Why isn’t Scout here? You can’t help me with that old injury. It’s only going to get worse.”
“The Quarterback Princess has a daddy-daughter tea.” He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, and a nostalgic smile curls my lips.
I had the biggest crush on John Roth Dunne in high school. He’s only a year older than us, but it was enough for him only ever to think of me as a skinned-kneed little kid. I finally grew out of being hopelessly devoted to him when he went away to college and later married, but he’s still one of the best-looking guys in town. He’s not even taller than me.
“You’ll be the same way in a few years, once Sunny is big enough to run and play.” I elbow him in the ribs, and it gets me a rare chuckle.
“Yeah.”
John has always been quiet, serious, way too old for his age, and now he’s happily married with a family of his own. Maybe one day I’ll have that, even if it’s nowhere in sight. I thought I was getting there, but life sure likes to jerk the rug out from under me.
“Joselyn, would you mind… a moment?” Spencer’s deep voice pulls me from my pity party.
Straightening fast, I touch my hair, taking the protective glasses off my head, and smoothing my hands over my knotted blouse. I stand a little taller, subtly arching my back so my breasts lift. I still get slippery inside when I remember how eager he was to touch them. It was so hot.
“What’s going on here?” He nods towards JR, who’s polishing off a water bottle.
“We’re assembling the framework for the sculptures. I need