BRUNO
“I cannot fucking believe we did that. Can you believe we did that? Sam Tucker is going to make an album for us! Sam motherfucking Tucker.” I was squealing like a frantic Beatles fan as I dipped my head to enter the airplane. I had my arms out and kept turning back to look at Ava. She grinned at me and bit her lip before giggling out her nose. She was happy too. It was a big win and I couldn’t have done it without her. She went out on a limb for me and I knew it.
Still bubbling with giggles, she put her pointer finger in front of her lips, “Shhh. We don’t want this secret leaked on Twitter, buttface.”
“Come on.” I rolled my whole neck, not just my eyes, at her. “Just for one minute be in the moment and stop trying to control the future PR campaign. Also, buttface? Really?”
She bit her lip again and then, giving me the sweetest set of googly doe eyes, she gleefully said, “Fine, it’s a-mazing. It was an incredible idea. You should feel really proud of yourself.”
I fucking wanted to kiss her. “I’m proud of us.”
She looked down bashfully and I didn’t second-guess the effect my compliment had. It hadn’t even been a full day and I was already losing my ability to see her clearly, but I was also losing my ability to give a fuck because having her around made me happy.
She flopped down in her seat on the plane and said, “I don’t know about you, but getting old musical legends to agree to make a record with us really takes its toll. I’m exhausted.”
Dropping into my own seat, I announced, “Sorry, but exhaustion is not an option. We still got places to be, babe.”
“Oh my God. What?” she whined. “Are we not going home now? I was totally planning my nap.”
I smirked. “Venice Beach, here we come.”
Feigning grumpy, she donned a monotone voice when she asked, “Do tell, what delights are in store for me after sitting in LA’s rush hour traffic?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re traveling by helicopter. No way am I sitting on the 405 when I could be sipping a cocktail, watching the sunset, and evaluating the potential of the unknown Marcus has been raving about.”
“Oh God.” She sighed. “You're serious. We’re not heading back to New York tonight?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Goddammit, Bruno.” She was genuinely annoyed. “How many times do I have to ask you to communicate with me? I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes.”
I was on such a high that nothing was going to bring me down, not even a pissy Ava. “That’s an easy fix. I can call the hotel now and have those things waiting for you in your room.”
“Okay, fine. But what about the meetings I had today that I rescheduled for tomorrow?”
“You’ll reschedule them again. You’re the COO of one of the top record companies in the world. You call the shots.”
She shook her head, but then I saw her cool slip away and she couldn’t control herself when she snarled, “No, Bruno. I’m the Hispanic girl from Queens who cajoled her way to the top and now that I’m the boss, everyone is waiting for me to screw up and looking for ways to jump ship.”
Watching her freak out, it occurred to me that Ava was a little terrified. Maybe, just maybe, she really wasn’t out to get me at all. Maybe she didn’t want to run the company on her own. Maybe she knew we were both good for business and that she needed me as much as I needed her.
Still, cocky till the end, I said, “I’m the boss, Ava.”
In response to my comment, she cackled sarcastically.
I stayed light. “That’s how it works. The CEO gets to be the boss of the COO.” Despite my words and our titles, we both obviously knew that for the time being, she was in charge, but my comment was loaded with sexual innuendo so it took the wind out of her sails and helped her anger dissipate.
She flopped back into her chair and said, “Fuck you, Bruno.”
“Anytime, babe,” I quipped. It was just a retort, but I realized I’d just offered her open invitations to ride. I snuck a tiny glance in her direction to observe her response.
She swallowed and a blush started to creep up her neck, but she was saved by Marcy, the inopportune flight attendant.
“Can I get either one of you something before takeoff?”
Ava squeaked, “I’ll take a scotch, please. Two rocks.”
I followed her lead. “Ditto, Marce.” I winked.
Shaking her head, Ava breathed, “Incorrigible.”
Ignoring her, I asked, “You want to see a video of Marcus’s Venice Beach busker?”
Reluctantly, she consented, “I guess.”
I took my phone out of my pocket and patted the seat next to me, encouraging her to move so we could watch the video together. I knew I was being flirtatious, and I didn’t think she’d actually stand up and move to the seat next to me, but she did. Just like in that limo when we were kids, I could feel the heat of her thigh next to mine. I fought the urge to shift closer so we’d actually be touching.
Pulling my earbuds from my jacket pocket, I offered her one and said, “I mean, they kinda have my ear cooties, but like…” It was a totally goofy thing to say. I was trying to be silly and friendly, really. But having her close to me had my fucking manhood on full alert so despite the words coming out of my mouth, the timbre of my vocal vibrations was more give-in-and-let-me-fuck-you-till-you-scream-my-name.
Ava’s eyes got wide and she swallowed uncomfortably, but then she reached out and took the earbud. Her voice was equally deep and whispery when she said, “I’m not afraid of your cooties. But if I borrow this, it’s gonna be covered in my cooties. You okay with that, champ?”
Holy fuck. I most definitely wanted all up in that situation. I mean, not like actual ear wax, but I could think of some serious Ava cooties that I wanted to be covered in. Shitballs.