Page 98 of Manhattan Bossholes

Why had I thought this was a good idea?

“What about the packages for the press?” I barked harsher than I’d intended.

“Ready to be handed out. We have someone stationed at the end of every row.” Linda smiled patiently at me. “Vincent, you can stop worrying about logistics and focus on what you need to say.” She pulled out her phone to check the time. “Getting close. I’m going to go triple check everything.”

Dwayne popped his head in as Linda left the room. “Crowded out there!”

“Good, that’s exactly what I want,” I nodded at him. “Hey, thanks again for what you did. I know that was tight. Above and beyond, as always.”

He grinned at me. “How could I say no? Killer concept, and I love how it ended up. Hope it all works out.” Dwayne turned to talk to someone behind him I couldn’t see. “You okay for some company, or do you need time alone?”

I heard a commotion just outside the door, and I knew exactly who it was.

“It’s fine, I’ve still got ten minutes. Send them in.”

The door opened, and Trent, Aiden, Paul, and Dominic strolled into the room. They were all suited up for work, so how they’d managed to escape midday was beyond me. We all lived our lives at warp speed.

But then again, when one of us needed support, we all rallied.

“Bro,” Aiden cheered. “Look at you, going all out!”

“Seriously, this is some next-level shit,” Dominic said with admiration in his voice. “But I get it. It’s time for a showstopper.”

Trent slapped me on the back. “We know you’ve got this, but we figured a few more friendly faces staring at you from the audience would be a good thing.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “It definitely helps. Thanks for being here. You guys have been with me through some of my toughest ups and downs.”

“And you’ve done the same for us,” Aiden said. “That’s what we do.”

“Wait a minute,” Paul glanced around at our group. “Can you believe we didn’t get one photo of the five of us at my wedding? We’ve got plenty with you guys and our lovely bridesmaids, but not one of just us. Let’s make up for it now.”

“Read the room, P.,” Trent laughed at Paul. “The guy’s stressed out, you can see it all over his face.”

He was right, but I welcomed the chance to spend a few minutes focusing on something other than what I was about to attempt.

“No, let’s do it,” I said quickly. “Who’s got the longest arms to take a selfie?”

“I mean,” Aiden spread his arms out to the sides and looked down at himself then all of us. “I’ve got an eighty-inch wingspan.”

We all stared at him for a beat, then broke into laughter at the idea of it.

“Eighty inches?” Trent sputtered. “Then you should be playing for the Giants.”

“Listen, I came pretty damn close to going pro,” he shot back. “But these guys convinced me to focus on our business instead.”

He pointed at Dominic and Trent.

“Yeah, you can thank us now,” Dominic said with a teasing grin. “We saved you from a traumatic brain injury.”

“Guys, let’s take the picture, okay? He needs to focus on his speech,” Paul said, ever the stable voice in the group.

We moved closer and slung our arms around each other’s shoulders.

Aiden held the camera out. “Three, two, one, Lost Boys!”

The old nickname always got a laugh out of us since we hadn’t been boys in forever.

“Thanks again, guys,” I said. “And don’t worry, I’m fine.”