Page 100 of Jesse

Then he smiles. Not a big smile. But it’s a charming smile for sure.

I walk towards him and grab him by the shirt. “Listen to me.”

He looks down at my hands then up at my eyes. Smirks with raised eyebrows. “You’ve definitely got my attention. But you never did have a problem doing that.”

“Your flirty eyebrow innuendo needs to wait, because I’m being serious now. We’re in trouble. We’re in a lot of trouble. We did bad things on Friday—which I’m totally sorry for—but the point is, we need to fix this. We need to get in front of this story and change it. And then, once that’s done, we’re going to date. Really date. For real. Like go out every damn weekend and eat dinner with my parents every other Saturday. Because I lost you once and I’m not gonna let you just get away again, Mr. Boston. You get me?”

“I get you,” he says. But then all the charm and possible innuendo fades. And he places both hands on my shoulders. “I’d love all that. I really would. But listen to me, Emma. It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not easy!” I say. Maybe too loud. “Nothing in life is fucking easy. We have no good excuse for why we were dragging your body into a boat Friday night. But we’re all smart people. We can make one up. And if you’re not pressing charges—you’re not, are you?”

“No.” He laughs.

“Good. Then we just make something up. What can people do? OK. They’re gonna think we’re weird, and crazy, and maybe we need therapy. But who cares? And we probably are weird and crazy and need therapy. So fuck it. Why not own it?”

He sighs. “Look, I like you. I’m in. One hundred percent. But there’s more you need to know before you decide this is the way forward.”

“I know everything. I get you guys. I understand, Johnny is doing… whatever. I’m not gonna say it so I keep my plausible deniability. And it’s not about saving my ass, either. Bright Berry Beach will be OK. We’ll figure it out. Hell, maybe we need a little scandal in our lives for once. I just…” I stare at him. Memorize him just in case this doesn’t go my way. “I just want to give this a shot. That’s all I want. Just one more shot.”

He steps back. Holds up a finger, and says, “One. This isn’t what we think. I don't know what’s happening, but there’s more to this than I understand at the moment. Two. It doesn’t really matter what this is, it’s gonna get ugly. Every time something good happens to me, or for me—some tabloid asshole swoops in and ruins it. So if you want that one more shot, you have to go in with the understanding that they’re gonna do it to you too. And three.” He sighs again. “It’s not gonna be easy, Emma. I know this. I’ve been through it before. You can’t understand how much bad publicity can change your life.”

“It’s gonna suck,” I say. “Fine. But I’m the boss of my life. Me. I get to decide how it goes.”

“That’s not really true, Emma.”

I shrug. “I’ll make it true. Me, and Mila, and Hannah, and Natalie. We’re a powerful force of feminine strength. I have them right behind me. And I have my family too. And you have your brothers and your cousin. So see, we can take it.”

“Well, here’s the problem,” he says. “I don’t have my brothers. They’re not on my side. They’ve never been on my side. And I don’t really understand that yet, but—”

“Hey.”

Jesse and I both look at the hallway to find Zach. “Sorry to interrupt, but Johnny wants to see you, Jesse.”

Jesse looks at me, says, “Wait here. I’ll only be a minute.”

And what can I do? I don’t know that I have many choices, so I watch him walk away and disappear down the hallway.

Zach walks over to me. Kinda looks me up and down. And not in the waggling eyebrows innuendo way, either. Kinda sizing me up way.

“It’s not what you think,” he says.

“Maybe it is,” I say. “Maybe it isn’t. But I don’t care.”

“You probably should,” Zach says.

“Well… I don’t,” I say, so frustrated. “I think I could love him, OK? Just put aside the fact that I’m in my thirties with no prospects for a moment. Erase the idea that I might’ve been obsessed with Jesse Boston for the last thirteen years and that’s why I never moved on and found someone else. Forget that I’m a bossy workaholic with control issues. Don't think about the fact that I drugged your cousin and helped tie him to a chair three days ago and then bought a two-hundred-and-seventy-thousand-dollar dick and flew him down to Key West in a private jet to be intimidated by my family just so I could one-up him. He might be my one. Not last chance,” I say, holding up a hand. “Let me make that perfectly clear. I’m not desperate.”

Zach smiles and it’s only now I notice he’s got that classic Boston charm. “You’re coming off a little bit desperate.”

“But in all the right ways,” I correct him. “I’m desperate to save us.” I nod my head. Because that was good. Very nice answer, Emma.

A slow clap makes Zach and I turn towards the hallway where we see Joey Boston leaning against a wall and looking like he just got punched in the face because his eye is swelling up.

“Great speech,” he says. “But you’re wasting your time on this Baby Boston here. He’s not the one you need to convince. That guy…” He looks back down the hallway. “He’s up there.”

Joey walks forward, heading for the set of double doors that lead to the lobby elevators, and then, just as he’s about to open the doors, he looks at me over his shoulder. “And just to be clear? I’m not talking about Jesse. I’m talking about the one who bites back.” Then he points to his eye as exhibit A, pulls the doors open, and disappears as they swoosh closed behind him.

I start for the hallway but Zach catches me by the upper arm. “Wait. You don't understand. Johnny Boston is—”