Page 59 of Big & Bossy

“We’ve got to catch our flight home.”

“And where is home, then?” He grinned, taking a look at the business card she’d handed him. “Boulder?”

Mandy nodded. “Yes. Have you been?”

“I go out to Colorado every year for skiing.” I hated the smirk he gave her, hated that he even thought he might have a chance. Hated that she was giving him the time of day. Why? “I don’t normally go to Boulder but… maybe I’ll stop by in January.”

“That would be amazing!” Mandy exclaimed, her grin too wide, her excitement too palpable. “I can show you around the office, and Jack’s campus should be open by then too so I can show you firsthand the work my company’s done on that.”

I couldn’t help but dig my fingers into her back just a little bit. It felt like she was doing this to prove some kind of point because I was late. I knew I was spiraling. I was exhausted, stressed, and I just wanted to bury myself in her and fall asleep, never leave her side again. I needed to calm down. I blanked out the rest of their conversation, unable to listen to a second more of it without getting angry, and I didn’t want to be angry with her. I just wanted peace, and I wanted to go back to how things had been last week, back to how we were ten years ago before any of this was a problem.

“Mands,” I said softly. I pushed the hair from the side of her face behind her ear as I leaned closer. “Let’s go for a late lunch, yeah? Just us. I know a spot.”

She glanced up at me, her expression tight, reserved. “Alright.”

Our hands were locked as we made our way to the exit. I knew exactly where I wanted to take her, the flight could wait.

Chapter 28

Mandy

Things between us didn’t feel right. Recently it had felt like we’d slotted together easily, like two puzzle pieces coming together in a perfect match with no seam, but now it felt like someone had put the wrong ends of us together. Close, but not quite. But as I got out of the car, the bright winter sun boring down on us and making me squint, I felt a little closer to that feeling we’d had before.

“I thought you might want to beat your old high score,” Jack drawled as he shut the car door behind me.

The front of the arcade had definitely taken a turn for the worse. Cobwebs littered the corners of the sign, half the neon letters flickering or out completely. The area was quiet even in the middle of the day. Granted it wasn’t in the center of New York City, but it used to be busy with college kids at all hours of the day.

“Come on, princess,” he grinned, turning and walking backward to the front door, one hand stretched out to me. I took it.

“I doubt my old score is still on top,” I chuckled, the stale, musty air hitting me as we stepped through the door.

“You got the highest score I’d ever seen. The real question, though, is if they still have your favorite machine,” Jack said, planting a little kiss on my cheek before turning his attention to the quarter exchange.

Two minutes later he had a purple Crown Royal bag in his fist, filled to the brim with quarters, way more than we needed. I doubted he was planning on staying here through the night like we had a few times in the past, but even if we did, it would still be far too many quarters.

Jack took my hand and led me toward the back, the bag of change jingling as he walked. They hadn’t moved the pinball machines from where they’d been ten years ago, they were still around the corner in their same little spot, still flashing even though some of the bulbs had burst.

I lost count of the number of times I’d leaned over the Addams Family one with Jackson watching over my shoulder or leaning against the wall next to it, making me feel like he was genuinely interested in my constant attempt to beat my own high score. The nostalgia of it flooded in as I stood there, eyes fixed on Morticia and Gomez as they clung to each other above the now thirty-something-year-old table.

“I can’t believe they still have it,” Jack chuckled as he took up his usual spot beside the machine, his back against the wall. “Go on, then, princess. Are you still the highest scorer?”

I rolled my eyes as I walked up to the machine. “It’s so unlikely.”

He held out the bag of quarters for me, the top open. I plucked a couple out and slid them into the slot, the table lighting up immediately, two sets of initials and their high scores popping up on the screen.

MEL - 698,000,000

MEL - 696,000,000

“Holy shit,” Jack laughed, his brows raised as he looked at the chunky block letters. “Ten years and no one’s beat you.”

“MEL is such a common set of initials,” I replied, not quite believing it myself. “It’s probably not mine.”

“I’m pretty sure I watched you get that second score.” His lips twitched up on one side, a devilish little smirk. “I guess you got the other after I left.”

I tried not to allow the intrusive thoughts back in. Tried not to remember the countless hours I spent here after he’d gone, filling my time playing this machine just to break up the monotony of tears and exams. “I had to do something to keep myself from constantly crying,” I snapped, regretting the words the instant they left my mouth. I couldn’t hold them back, though. Not when the memories were hitting me left and right. I pulled back the plunger, took in a deep breath, and released, sending the first ball flying.

Jack blew out a breath. “Is this where you spent most of your time?”

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