I kicked his foot under the table.
His head shot up and he raised his hands. Ever since we’d shown up, he’d been distracted, and not by his phone like he normally was. Something else had taken over whatever madness normally churned inside his head.
August swirled the marker between his fingers, spinning it around. “Who needs help?”
All hands remained raised.
August uncapped his whiteboard marker with his teeth and walked over to the giant board beside Hunter’s ornate dining room table. “Leo, your weekend workload is light.”
I nodded. “Corporate keeps things to weekdays.”
“Fine. You can help Everest with the Final Four events and Draft Day.”
Everest’s eyes narrowed.
“Can’t wait to help.” I slapped a smile on my face. Irritating the hell out of Everest would be a bonus.
Zara walked out of the kitchen with plates and set them in the middle of the table before sitting on my lap. There weren’t any free chairs—two of them were being used as whiteboard stands.
The table was crowded with laptops, print outs, and invoices. Sprinkled in between the thick books of samples were the containers of food Zara and I had picked up on the way over.
Our weekly Chinese food dinners had become another space where work spilled over into our lives. Basketball and buffalo wings had become our official board meetings.
Zara leaned over the table to load up the plate with my favorites alongside hers. Each rock of her hips to reach another dish tested my focus and ability to think coherently.
She served as a deciding vote on something the guys were fighting about, since my brain was no longer functioning.
I squeezed my hands around her hips to keep her still.
“What? You’re not up for a tease anymore?” She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip, wriggling her ass on my lap.
“Retribution when you get back will be swift and well-deserved.”
“I can only hope.” She took a bite of her egg roll and a few forkfuls of chicken before popping up.
I shoved my seat forward with my lap under the full cover of the table.
Everest lifted an eyebrow and took a bite of his perfectly swirled noodles. “Lap dance finished already?”
My hands clenched under the table. Our truce had its ups and downs.
“Gentlemen, I leave you to your work. I’m picking up my little brother from the airport.” She pecked me on the lips. A fleeting press of her soft, full lips wasn’t enough, but it would tide me over until she got back.
She grabbed her keys and left the dining room, yelping once she disappeared from view.
I shot out of my seat, rushing.
She stood in the hall leading to the front door, clutching the front of her shirt with her keys in her hand. Standing beside her was a woman I hadn’t seen before. And she was in Hunter’s apartment.
The crowd around the doorway all turned to look between her and Hunter, who stood on the other side of the table with his hands clenched at his sides.
“Hi, I’m Sabrina.” She extended her hand. “Hunter’s new roommate.”
“Uninvited! Uninvited intruder,” Hunter chimed from the other side of the dining room.
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was headed out to pick up a friend and ran into Zara. Sorry for scaring the crap out of you.”
Zara smiled back. “No problem. I’m happy to have another woman around here to help handle this crew.” She jerked her thumb in our direction.
“I can only imagine.”
August stepped forward, rubbing his whiteboard-marker-covered hands on his pants before extending his hand. “I’m August. This is Jameson, Everest, and Leo.”
She waved. “Nice meeting you all. Testosterone overload in here, am I right?” Her hand went to the collar of her shirt and she tugged it away from her neck.
Zara laughed. “It’s next level. You should’ve seen me the first time I met them all.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Sabrina?”
Sabrina leaned farther into the room. “You’re absolutely right. Thank you for being so helpful, Hunter.” Sweetness dripped from her words like she hadn’t picked up on a hint of his snappiness.
“I was headed out too. You can tell me all about what it’s like to live here with Hunter.”
Sabrina linked her arm through Zara’s and they walked down the hall. “How long do you have?”
Jameson turned with his jaw dropped. “You have a roommate?”
Hunter gritted his teeth. “It wasn’t my choice.” He flopped back into his chair. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He folded his arms over his chest.
We exchanged looks and took our seats.
Everest flipped through the pages of a sample book. “She’s cute. A little mousy, but she didn’t mind needling Hunter, so I already like her.”
Jameson loaded up his plate with more noodles. “She seemed nice. How long has she been living here?”
“Three weeks,” Hunter grumbled.
August drew an hourglass on the whiteboard. “Great curves.”
Hunter glared at him and shredded a piece of paper at his seat, but didn’t say anything more.
“Back to business.” Jameson squeezed his forehead. “We’re going to have to bring on more staff.”
August cracked open a fortune cookie. “With what money? I’m never sure my paycheck will show up on the first.”
“I’ve streamlined and automated everything possible. You’ve hustled hard the past few months and our calendar is booked solid. Check this out.” Jameson flipped the laptop around. The ugly red cells of the spreadsheet transitioned to pink, then white. For the rest of the year everything was bright neon green.
I stared at the number at the bottom right hand corner. “Is that where we’ll be at the end of this year?” We’d pulled it off. By the end of this year, I’d no longer feel like I’d shoved my friends—and Everest—out onto a leaky dinghy to set out on an insane adventure.
Jameson shook his head.
And the hope took a nosedive into the sand.
“That’s our cash flow right now.” He grinned dollar-sign wide.
I jerked back so hard, my chair nearly toppled over. My hands shot out to grab onto the table and steady myself. “You’re shitting me.”
“Not even a little bit. August scored those five weddings back-to-back, and that tipped us over the edge.”
Our heads swung to him.
He shrugged. “When you know how obsessed people are with the perfect day and not an actual marriage, it’s easy to play them like a damn fiddle.”
Hunter grabbed a plastic-wrapped fortune cookie and cracked it open. He pulled out the two slips of paper. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Our meetings were usually overrun by Hunter and his tales from the trenches of bottle service and backstage passes, but tonight he’d barely said a word.
I leaned closer. “What’s it say?”
“Open your mind and be prepared to receive something special.”
Jameson tapped away at his keyboard. “That doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
The corners of Hunter’s mouth shot down. “The second says, ‘Your tongue is your best ambassador.’”