Page 1 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

CHAPTER ONE - JESSE

My first Bright Berry Beach holiday party.

Let me just set the scene for this insane group of cosmetics-crazy celebrators.

We have Mila Sanchez as Santa. That’s right. Five-foot-tiny Mila dressed up, not as Mrs. Claus, but the actual Santa. She’s got the fat suit. The black boots. The white beard. I’m talking the whole shebang. Plus, a red velvet sack filled with party favors.

Not gifts—I’ll get to that in a minute. Party favors.

Mostly they are baked goods. Of the cannabis variety. But there are also tiny bottles of Dom Pérignon with a special Bright Berry Beach rose-gold foil label, and made-to-order Stefano Ricci silk ties with tiny crystal berry embellishments in both red and blue, and every now and then some lucky bastard pulls out a Breguet watch or a bright blue Tiffany box.

I just can’t with Mila.

But I actually wouldn’t mind one of those watches.

Too bad I pulled out a pot brownie. Emma ate it. Like in one gulp. Because I’m sober, so yeah. No pot brownies for me.

It’s nine-thirty right now and everyone is pretty smashed on edibles, or champagne, or silk ties, or Breguet and Tiffany good luck.

I’m just watching this whole thing with a sort of detached fascination.

There is a little part of me that misses the old days. My yacht days. My party days. My sailing-the-world days filled with drugs, and drinking, and sex with strangers.

But it’s a very small part of me.

I do enjoy watching Emma get wasted though. I’ve never seen her wasted. She’s a fun drunk. Dancing and laughing, twirling and giggling. Her eyes are glassy and bright, her cheeks flushed all pink like she just had really hot sex.

I’m in the middle of formulating a plan to lure her up the escalators to her office so I can fuck her on her desk when she grabs the karaoke mic and starts singing Jingle Bell Rock. She looks at me and I get all tingly and warm when she winks and shakes her jingle bells.

God. Emma Dumas. One of a kind. And she’s mine. All mine.

We’re getting married next spring and honestly, that’s all I can think about. I know her bossy mom down in Key West is trying to take over the wedding plans and that’s driving Emma up a wall, but I do not give one shit what the wedding looks like. I just want to pledge my undying love to her and then fuck her for a whole week straight in Tahiti.

Down, boy. Because I’m ready for that desk sex right now and she’s currently the entertainment.

So. Back to the party.

Then we have Hannah. Tall and willowy nerd-glasses Hannah. She looks like a fucking runway model right now. If said runway model was dressed up like an alien elf. Which, I have to say, Hannah pulls off pretty well. Not many women can wear a bald cap, elf ears, and a tight silver minidress and still look hot.

Why is she dressed like an alien elf, you ask?

I’m not sure. It might have something to do with the AlienCon Christmas party down the street. I think she and what’s-his-face the boyfriend just came from there because he’s dressed up like a silver alien reindeer and he keeps saying, “Take me to your mascara,” in a fake robot-slash-alien voice like this is the best joke ever.

Newsflash, what’s-your-face. It’s not. You’re just drunk on edibles and your hot alien-elf girlfriend.

But the really interesting Bright Berry Beach partner here tonight is Natalie. She has two dates. She started the night with three, but one’s a gynecologist and got called in for an emergency cesarean on triplets.

I’m pretty sure there’s a joke in there somewhere—three men, three babies—but I can’t seem to find it at the moment.

Anyway. Natalie currently has two dudes on her arms. She’s wearing them like jewelry. And she’s talking to my almost-sister-in-law, Brooke—who is now a full-time Bright Berry Beach independent cosmetic sales consultant for corporate parties, or… something?—and my actual, sorta-not-brother, Joey, and their two other partners, Wald and Huck, over by the punch bowl.

I’m reading their lips and formulating my own make-believe conversation as I watch this interaction go down…

Natalie to Brooke: So, do you all sleep in the same bed?

It starts out tame, but to the point.

Brooke to Natalie: Oh, no. We take turns. There’s just not a bed big enough to accommodate four sexy people such as ourselves at the same time.