Page 73 of Camping with the Boss

My smile drops. Rules. That reminds me of Wade. And how messed up everything is now.

“There it is,” she says softly. “Tell Mama what’s going on.”

I laugh. “I don’t want to.”

“Ha. Not true. I’m in Plevna, for God’s sake. There better be a good reason.”

The server arrives and takes my drink order.

“We’re ready to order our food.” Her warning glance dares me to contradict her. But I want to live, so I don’t say a word.

I engage in small talk until our food arrives. Alex humors me by not shaking me or walking out. Both are possible since she detests mundane small talk.

After her first bite of pancakes, she mumbles, “Fuck, these are just what I needed.” She takes a drink of milk. “Now spill before I lose my pancake buzz by stabbing you with my fork.”

I bite off a piece of bacon. It’s good. Much better than the camp’s food. Maybe we should have all met here for meals. “I’m not sure where to start.” Yup. I’m still stalling.

“Start where the bosshole steals you away to his castle to do wicked things to you.”

“That’s not— It’s a camp.” Heat flares in my face. Obviously, it’s a camp, and she was joking, but now I’m thinking about Wade’s wicked ways… I hold in a sigh.

“Shut. Up.” Her eyes are huge and getting bigger. “I was joking. Can, did you let that boy have his way with you?”

I cover my face with my hands. “You’re not making this easy.”

She waggles her brows. “Did he make it easy?”

“Alex,” I whine, “stoooop.”

She rolls her eyes and takes another bite of pancakes. I’ve seen her do this before. Been on the other end of it. Doesn’t make it any less effective. Silence. The tool of the devil.

I focus on her initial question. “The first place Wade took me was to his office.”

“Wade, huh? Is his office gorgeous?”

“It is. And you can geek out about the décor later. It turns out I had to get approval from his brother and his aunt. She’s evil.”

“Aunt or step-aunt?”

“Does it matter?” I shake my head. She’s losing sight of what’s really important.

“Are you kidding me? An evil step-aunt is a perfect backstory for your Cinderfella.”

“No. Not calling him that.” Even though it sort of fits. I tell her most of the story, leaving out some juicy parts. Which, of course, she notices.

“Nice. This is what you wanted, right?” She leans over the table, and I scootch back. Not taking any chances. “Why are you acting like someone pissed in your oat milk latte?”

“Gross.” I move my hash browns around on my plate as I consider her question. I know the answer. Don’t I? “He lied to me. About being gay. And he slept with one of his employees.”

“Aww. You’re still a special peanut. You just weren’t the first. Do I need to remind you that he didn’t even know you back then?”

“That’s not it.” Not all of it. “What if it’s a pattern…?”

“Two doesn’t make a pattern. But so what?” She catches my eye. “So the fuck what, Can? Life isn’t a Disney movie. You’re hooking up with a hot bosshole. Not marrying him.”

I focus on my hash browns instead of her way-too-perceptive gaze, but I’m not eating them, and we both know it. My food taunts me, so I cover it with a napkin.

“Can?” But I can’t look at her. She grabs my hand and moves the fork out of my reach. “Can,” she says again.

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