Jocelyn

After lunch, Charli begs for a trip to the park. Boxer gives me an apologetic look, but I quickly agree to accompany them, begging a moment alone to update Lindsay with my schedule. Boxer and Charli race ahead, and I pull out my phone to dial Lindsay’s number.

“How did it go?” Lindsay asks when she picks up. “Even your hello sounds... defeated.”

“I struck out. Big time. I need help.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re headed to a park.”

“Okay, that sounds like things are going well,” Lindsay says. “If Boxer and Baby Boxer wanted to leave right after lunch, they would have.”

“She hated the Barbie.”

“Who hates Barbie?”

“Charli.”

Lindsay swears under her breath. “Tomboy, huh?”

“Yep.”

“I should’ve guessed. Sorry, boss. For whatever it’s worth, though, it’s the thought that counts.”

“It’s not the thought that counts, this is business,” I tell her. “I have to win over Boxer. I’m not doing a wonderful job of it.”

“Look, forget about the Barbie. I guarantee Charli has already let it go. Have some fun at the park, and all will be forgotten!”

I sigh. “I don’t do well with kids.”

“You’ll do fine. You were a kid once, you know. It’s not like you don’t have some experience with it.”

“Fine.”

“If you need rescuing, just... send an SOS message, and I’ll call you with an urgent request.”

“You’re the best.”

“Good luck! And, boss?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never seen you so on edge. Just relax. You’re the best there is, and if Boxer can’t see that, it’s his loss.”

I’m grinning as I say goodbye to Lindsay, even if I know she’s just blowing sunshine up my ass. I remind myself to see if I can finagle some extra budget for her bonus this year. She’s paid well, but she should be paid more. She’s a staple in my life.

“All good, boss?” Boxer’s grinning as he sidles over toward me. “Sorry to keep you from work. We could’ve dropped you off if you wanted.”

“Oh, you’re not keeping me. I was just updating my assistant on the change in plans.” I tuck my phone into my pocket. “I’m all yours, now. Where’s Charli?”

He gestures toward the swing set in the middle of the playground. Charli’s already made a friend, a boy of about her age, and they’re currently in a battle to see who can fly the furthest off the swing.

“Doesn’t that make you nervous?” I cringe. “I can’t watch. She’s going to break something.”

“You get used to it.” Boxer laughs, stopping before a bench. “She’s tough. If I tell her not to do something, that just makes it worse.”

He waves an arm toward the bench, and together we sit. The air is filled with shrieks from the swing set competition and there’s a certain peacefulness to the moment despite the chaotic background chatter.

“I’m really sorry about Charli,” he says, turning to face me. “She—”

“I should’ve asked about the Barbie before bringing some silly gift. It’s my fault.”

“Your fault? That was the most thoughtful thing you could’ve done. She’s just... it makes her nervous.”

“Barbies?” I watch Boxer, but he doesn’t answer immediately.

“No,” he says finally. “The last few times a woman brought her a gift, it was because I’d asked them out on a date. I’ve gone on two dates this year, and both times I missed reading to Charli before bed. She was worried I wouldn’t be there tonight for her.”

“Oh, poor thing,” I say, meaning it. “I’m sorry, if I’d known—”

“Don’t worry,” he adds quickly. “I explained to her that this is business, and business is different than personal.”

“Of course.”

He closes his eyes, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I mean, it’s personal, getting to know you, but—”

“I get it. For the record, Charli has nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t dream of stealing you away from Rapunzel.”

He smiles, relief evident on his face. “As for the Barbie thing... she’s an odd duck. There’s no way you could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t think she’s odd at all! I like her, a lot. Even if I’m not great with kids.”

“You do just fine.”

I shrug, watching as the kids leave the swings waving in the breeze to dig a trench in the sand. Once again, I’m hit by the peacefulness of the moment, the warmth of the sun on my face, which is why his next question comes out of the blue, catching me off guard.

“Why’d you meet with Duke?”

A chill spirals through me as I look up to find Boxer waiting for my answer. “Duke?”

“We talk,” he says in explanation. “He mentioned he had lunch with you at Dougie’s.”

“Yes, we did.” I clear my throat. “I wanted to pick his brain about the agent business.”

Boxer leans back, his arm coming up and over my shoulders. We’re sitting far enough apart where it doesn’t feel romantic, but still... I can’t help the race of my heart as his fingers brush inadvertently against my shoulder.

“I’m impressed,” he says finally. “He doesn’t like most people.”

“Oh?”

He grins, giving a bewildered shake of his head. “Seems he liked you just fine.”