Page 138 of Boss of the Year
“What happened?” She wasn’t my twin—not quite—but sometimes the ten months between us really felt like nothing.
I sank onto a bench between a flowering hydrangea and a jasmine bush and pulled the edges of the robe around me to ward against the chilly morning air. “Nothing. And, well, kind of everything.”
There was a long pause followed by sounds of rustling movement when she got out of bed, shushing Nathan on her way. “Go back to sleep, babe, it’s just Marie.”
“Jo?”
There was a sound of a door opening and shutting.
Then: “You slept with your boss, didn’t you?”
My jaw fell open. “How did you even?—”
“Mimi, please.” Joni’s voice dropped into the smug, singsong register that had always driven me crazy. “There is exactly one reason you would be callingmeat this ungodly hour. One thing that would freak you out enough to ask for my advice over ourfour older siblings, one of whom is in your freaking time zone. You gave that shit up, didn’t you?”
I groaned, pressing my palm to my forehead. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” she chirped back. “Was it okay? Areyouokay? It was him, wasn’t it? The scary boss man, not the pretty fuckboy?”
“Lucas isn’t so scary. And yeah. It was…more than okay.”
There was another long silence before a loud squeal that almost pierced my eardrum. “Oh my God, you did it! You finally had sex! I have been waiting for this day for years and years andyears!”
“Please don’t say it like that.” I glanced toward the roof’s entrance, as if Lucas might have actually heard her and come to check. “It’s sex, Joni. I didn’t get a Ph.D. or anything.”
“How was it? Did it hurt? My first time hurt like a motherfucker. Was he at least gentle about it, or did he ram it in there like a toilet plunger?”
“Joni, oh my God!”
“Did he make you come, at least, beforehand? Did he hold you, or was it from behind? Ooh, did he make you comeduring? Don’t tell me that happened, or I might really have to fly to London to cut you.Didhe?”
My silence apparently spoke for itself.
“MARIE!” my sister shrieked loud enough that I had to hold my phone away from my ear. “You had an orgasm your first time, you bish! Do you evenknowhow lucky you are? It took me three months and a very determined showerhead before I knew what I was missing, and then I had to teach that sorry jerk how to do it.”
“Joni, please stop.”
“No! This is historic! Lucas Lyons needs a freaking trophy, or at least a billboard in Times Square. Or, on second thought, maybe not, since you probably don’t want to advertise to thewomen of New York that your man is worth the earthandhas a magic penis.”
“Joni!”
“Marry him,” she rattled on. “Don’t come home. Don’t even leave the bed wherever you are. Just stay there and screw his brains out until he puts a ring on that finger, all right?”
I slapped a hand over my face. “Don’t say that. Don’t even joke about that. He’s not my man, and I’m not his wife, and oh my God, Joni, it was just the one time.”
There must have been something in my voice.
“Hey.” She was much calmer now. “Are you okay?”
I shoved my hand back through my hair, uncaring of the way it was likely standing all over the place after sleeping on it wet. “I’m fine. But, Jo…” I swallowed. “Is it normal to feel like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like I can’t think about anything but him. Like he’s in my skin. In my head. Like if I don’t run back to that bed right now and wrap myself back up in him, I might actually fall apart?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Is this…love?” I felt like a fool for even asking.
