Page 52 of Jesse

I’m gonna be the bossiest motherfucking Boston Brother there is.

CHAPTER NINETEEN - EMMA

Even though this jet is one of the smallest on the mainstream luxury market, I had it customized to my exact specifications.

I figured if I had to fully immerse myself in this corporate life, I was going to do it in style. As CFO, I’m the one who makes the most trips. Hannah almost never leaves the corporate office and neither does Mila. It’s Natalie and I who jet-set all over the globe striking deals and forging new relationships.

When we go together we take a whole staff with us, which is why we need the Bright Berry Monster, as we affectionately call her.

But I go alone a lot too. And it’s not environmentally responsible to take the Monster in those situations so a smaller jet was a necessary expense.

Still, it’s quite impressive.

The cabin has been divided into three sections—the galley and seating for the two staff, then the middle section, which is workspace, and finally the aft cabin which is for resting.

Yes, I have a bed in my jet. But I deserve to look fresh when I arrive in Europe for a quick meeting.

I glance over my shoulder at Jesse once he enters the cabin and smile.

Take it all in, asshole. You think you’re rich?

I’m rich, motherfucker.

I don’t need to be wheeled around town in your stupid red Ferrari or brunched at your favorite posh hotel.

Welcome to my life.

I missed out on nothing when you ghosted on me thirteen years ago.

He wants a date? He wants to force me to spend time with him over threats of prison?

Fine.

We’re on a damn date.

I’m gonna date the hell out of this man today and show him who’s boss.

“Come in,” I say. “No, don’t sit there. That’s for the staff. Come this way, Jesse.”

He’s glaring at me. Which is so perfect.

The work station in the center section has been transformed into the dining experience configuration. Fine china with napkins folded into the shape of swans on top, heavy silverware gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the windows, and no fewer than three crystal glasses each.

“This is… a bit much, don’t you think?” Jesse says, feigning indifference.

“Is it really?” I ask. “Or is it just that you’re not the one going over the top?”

“Emma,” he says, unbuttoning his jacket. He’s very smart casual today. Brown sport coat over an untucked, dark-blue button-down shirt and dark jeans.

“May I hang up your coat, sir?” Miles asks him.

“Sure,” Jesse mumbles, removing the coat and handing it over.

“Would you like coffee this morning?” Miles asks as Jesse takes his seat across from me.

“No, thanks. Just water for me. I’m dehydrated from last night.” He glares at me when he says this. Like I need reminding that he was drugged.

“I’ll have water as well,” I say, brightly.