Page 283 of Manhattan Bossholes

He smiled at me, offering me some more avocado.

I smirked, shaking my head. Trent returned his attention to his newspaper.

“Hey, look at this,” Trent said, flipping the newspaper around. “We made the society page.”

“What?”

I stared down at a photograph from the rooftop club last night. The paparazzi must have been there, sneaking photographs of Kyle Landing and his entourage. Trent and I had both ended up in the background of the shot. I don’t remember seeing anyone taking photos, but I’d been totally absorbed by Trent.

“The paper even lists you by name,” I teased, reading the caption beneath the photo.

He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful.”

“You’re famous. If this sustainable line flops, at least you can always fall back on that.” I laughed at the grumpy look on his face, and as I focused on that, I almost forgot to worry about whether this was a relationship I could count on.

17

NATASHA

“Do I look okay?” Stacy asked me for the third time in as many minutes.

“You look great.” And she did, dolled up in her signature bright colors and perfectly mismatched patterns.

“I’m so nervous,” she said, wringing her hands together. “I don’t know why. We’ve been chatting every day.”

I glanced down at my phone as it buzzed. It was Trent, messaging to say he’d be there to pick us up in just a few minutes. I grinned at the little heart emoji he added at the end of the message. My own heart skipped in response. I was attending Hailey’s birthday party as his guest, and Dominic had invited Stacy. Actually, he’d insisted she come along rather than just dropping off the dress she’d made for Hailey. And Stacy had been freaking out ever since.

She’d stormed into my apartment at seven this morning, and the party didn’t even start until twelve.

“What if Hailey doesn’t like the dress?” she said, smoothing her hands over the garment bag she’d packed the dress into.

“She’s going to love it,” I assured her. “How could she not? It’s a poof of pink and purple fabric bedazzled with every rhinestone in Queens. That’s every little girl’s dream, right?”

Stacy’s lips twisted. “You think I went overboard?”

“There’s no such thing. It’s perfect. Trust me. You don’t have anything to worry about.” It looked like a unicorn threw up—perfect for a five-year-old.

Stacy worried her bottom lip. “I just want Hailey to love it. And Dominic too. I feel like this is some sort of test.”

I hadn’t ever seen Stacy this worked up about a guy. Certainly never over any of her theater guys. She was usually so damn positive about everything that she hardly flinched when it didn’t work out. She just moved on to the next guy, forever chasing that figurative Mr. Right. But maybe Dominic was different.

Maybe her feelings for him were different.

My phone buzzed again. “That’s Trent,” I said. “He’s downstairs. Are you ready?”

Stacy tossed the garment bag over her shoulder. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Try not to get it on the dress.” I grabbed the small box I’d wrapped—a unicorn toy that the saleswoman had assured me was all the rage this year—and steered Stacy out the door, hurrying down the steps to meet Trent. He’d turned up in the same car we’d taken on our date, and I tried not to think about all the things that had almost happened in this vehicle as Stacy slid across the seats.

“Hi,” Trent said, pecking me on the cheek.

“Hi.” I climbed in after Stacy. There was a huge box wrapped in sparkly pink paper sitting on the floor. “What’s in there?”

Trent arched his eyebrow as he sat beside me. The driver pulled away from the curb, heading into Manhattan. “The present?”

I laughed. “I understand it’s her present, but what did you get her?” My box was dwarfed in comparison. “That’s massive.”

“Oh,” Trent laughed. “Yeah, I had no clue. Dominic sent me a link to some princess castle looking thing.”