But it's not just a normal, everyday dinner with an employer. "I had sex with Breck," I blurt out, finally telling her the secret I've been holding onto. And then I hold the phone away from my ear while she squeals. And then I continue, "And I definitely have feelings for Enzo and Ansel, too."
"You know that when I talked about you hooking up with all three of them, I was joking, right?" Then she squeals again. "But, damn, Remy. Good for you! Having sex with your three hot bosses."
I quickly correct her. "Nothing has happened with the other two, other than a lot of sexual tension. And I know I can't have all three of them, but I could never choose just one of them."
"Okay, slow down," Jess tells me. "You don't have to figure out forever tonight."
"I just don't know how to handle this."
"Who says you have to choose?" She asks. "Who made that rule?"
"Society? Common sense? Basic math?" I flop back on the bed.
"Remy, you've never followed the rules. Why start now?" She pauses. "Have you actually talked to them about this? Or are you just spiraling alone in your bedroom?"
She knows me too well. "Okay, you're right. It's just dinner." I laugh. "Green dress. No major life decisions. I can do that."
"Exactly!" Jess confirms. She lets me sit in that for a second before her voice softens. "So... how are you doing with the Trent thing?"
My stomach tightens at the mention of his name. "I'm fine. The guys are handling it."
"Remy."
"I'm fine, Jess. Really. I just need to get through tonight without making an idiot of myself."
"Then wear the dress, don't overthink it, and remember that you're brilliant and gorgeous and any man would be lucky to have you. Even if there are three of them."
I smile. "Thanks, Jess."
"You're the best, and you know it. Now go get dressed before you're late."
She hangs up before I can argue.
The restaurant Breck chose has exposed brick and Edison bulbs, with craft cocktails that have pretentious names I can't pronounce.
I'm really glad I let Jess persuade me to buy and wear the green dress. It cost more than I'm used to spending. But I'm not used to getting paychecks that let me afford brand-name clothes.
The way all three of them went silent when they picked me up for dinner made every penny worth it.
I'm brought back to the present moment when Ansel catches me fidgeting with my napkin. "You look beautiful."
Heat creeps into my cheeks. "Thank you."
Dinner is surprisingly easy. The tension from the past week melts away as we fall into comfortable conversation.
I'm halfway through my second glass of wine when I notice a gorgeous blonde woman checking out the guys. And then, she approaches our table.
She's tall and willowy, with a bone structure that probably photographs beautifully.
She stops at our table, looking between the three identical faces with a practiced smile. "I know one of you is Ansel Jacobs. Though with faces like yours, I'd be happy to talk business with any of you."
Ansel stands. "Stephanie Rogers. How are you?"
Her smile widens. "You remember. I'm flattered."
"Of course. The TechScape conference last year."
Her fingers touch his arm, lingering. "I've been meaning to reach out. I'd love to discuss potential partnerships between our companies."
