Hating the Boss

by Kristen Granata

  I smile and offer him the sign for thank you, which is the only thing I know how to sign, thanks to watching Sesame Street with Mia and William.

  “How do you two know each other?” Grandma asks.

  “We work together. Jaxon’s the new principal at my school.”

  I watch as Jaxon’s hands move to interpret for his grandfather. Samuel then signs something that makes Jaxon laugh.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  “He said you’re very pretty.”

  Heat burns my cheeks. “Thank you. Jaxon, this is my grandmother, Annette.”

  Jaxon shakes Grandma’s hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Annette.”

  She fans herself. “Oh, my. What a gentleman your grandson is, Sam.”

  Sam watches her lips as she talks, then puffs his chest out and grins.

  Jaxon points to his bruised eye. “Would you believe your granddaughter gave me this shiner?”

  Both Grandma and Neil’s mouths fall open. “Well, I suspect you deserved it if that’s true,” Grandma says.

  I laugh and wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Damn straight he deserved it.”

  Samuel grins as he signs.

  Jaxon shakes his head, smiling. “He said he likes you, Raegan. You’ve got spunk.”

  “She gets that from me,” Grandma says.

  I giggle. “Tell him I like him much more than his grandson.”

  Jaxon clutches his chest. “That hurt.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, we were just about to leave. Enjoy your swim time.”

  Jaxon winks. “See you on Monday, Ms. Donahue.”

  I wave good bye to Samuel, and swim to the steps. Grandma takes my hand and leans on Neil for support as we help her out of the pool.

  “Your boss is totally checking you out,” Neil whispers.

  I wrap Grandma in a towel. “He is not.”

  “Hand to God, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you got out of the pool.”

  “Raegan, that boy is very charming.” Grandma touches her hand to my cheek. “Much nicer than that loser, Andrew.”

  “He’s not as nice as he seems,” I murmur.

  I’m about to wrap my towel around my body, but think better of it. Jaxon wants to play games? Fine. Eat your heart out, Fuckwad.

  I sling the towel over my arm and strut past Jaxon with my head held high.

  I don’t think about him for the rest of the day.

  Not one single thought.

  Not about how adorable he looked signing with his grandfather.

  Or about how ridiculously hot he looked without a shirt on.

  Not even about the way the water droplets ran down his tan, toned body …

  Okay, who am I kidding? That’s all I thought about.

  There’s definitely something wrong with me.

  Days Left Until Summer Break: 153

  Jaxon

  Seeing Raegan dripping wet in that turquoise bikini has done nothing to help my sex dreams.

  Not dreams.

  Nightmares.

  They’re nightmares. Let’s get that straight.

  At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  Fantasizing about Raegan is the last thing I need on top of all the stress at work. It’s after three-thirty. School’s over, yet I’ll likely be in this office until after the sun goes down. Again.

  I glance out the window when a flash of blond hair catches my eye. Raegan’s sitting on the bench outside with a little girl.

  What’s she still doing here? I throw on my jacket and exit through the double doors.

  Outside my stride screeches to a halt. Raegan’s hand is up, and she’s moving her fingers in different positions. Her student, a girl named Peyton, lifts her hand to copy what Raegan did.

  Raegan is teaching her Sign Language.

  I stand there, watching in awe, until Raegan spots me. She drops her hand into her lap and smiles.

  I walk toward the bench. “Ms. Donahue, is everything okay?”

  “Peyton’s mom is running a little late. I’m keeping her company until she gets here.”

  “Did Beth call her mother?”

  “No, I did. I told Beth that I’d handle it. It was time for her to go home for the day.”

  Always worrying about others. I remove my jacket and wrap it around Raegan’s shoulders. “Peyton, you should tell your teacher how important it is to wear a jacket now that it’s getting colder.”

  Peyton’s eyes widen as she nods. “Yes, Mr. Waters.”

  Raegan smirks. “I’m fine. I don’t mind the fall weather. It’s actually my favorite season.”

  “Mine too,” says Peyton. “Do you like to jump in the leaves?”

  Raegan smiles. “No, but I used to when I was your age.”

  “How come you don’t do it anymore? Is it because you’re a grown up?”

  “I guess adults don’t do the fun things kids get to do.”

  Peyton turns to me. “Do you jump in the leaves, Mr. Waters?”

  I puff my chest out. “Of course I do.”

  “You do?” both Raegan and Peyton ask.

  I look around the bench and spot a decent pile of leaves. “How about that pile? Want to go jump in it, Peyton?”

  Her eyes light up. “Yes!” She takes my hand and pulls me onto the grass.

  “On the count of three.” I squat down low beside Peyton. “One, two, three!”

  We dive into the pile and Peyton’s squeals fills the air. We roll out of the leaves and stand. I help Peyton brush the leaf bits off her jacket. Then a silver Honda pulls to a stop in front of us and Peyton bolts to the passenger door.

  “I see you’re having fun,” Peyton’s mom says through her open window.

  “Yeah, Mom. Mr. Waters is the coolest principal ever.”

  My chest squeezes. I love this job. I wave as they drive off.

  “You really are something else, you know that?” Raegan says, standing and walking toward me.

  “Something else? I suppose I’ve been called worse.”

  “Oh, you should hear the names I’ve come up with in my head.”

  I can’t fight the smile that tugs at my mouth. “Sounds like you spend a lot of time thinking about me.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You would hear it that way.”

  “Were you … were you doing Sign Language before I came outside?”

  Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. “I was just showing Peyton what I’ve learned.”

  “You’ve been learning how to sign?”

  “Kerry has been teaching me. I figured I could communicate with your grandfather the next time I visited my grandma.”

  An odd sensation stirs in my chest. She’s learning Sign Language for my grandfather. I can’t form coherent words. I’m overcome with … with what, exactly? No one’s ever done something like that for him. For me.

  Silence descends while we stare at one another.

  Raegan is so insanely beautiful. Her nose and cheeks are rosy from the chill in the air. My jacket swallows her body, making her look even smaller than usual. I’m tempted to reach out and run my fingers through her silky blond waves, brush my lips against hers.

  And the way Raegan’s gaze keeps finding its way to my lips tells me she might want me to.

  Raegan steps closer to me, and I lean in on instinct. I’m powerless, stuck in the gravitational pull of her green eyes. Why do I have to be so damn attracted to her? Am I that weak of a man? My body is at war with my mind, both of them pulling me in opposite directions.

  Raegan stretches onto her toes, and my heart slams against my chest. She reaches up … to pick a leaf out of my hair. Then she slips off my jacket and hands it back to me.

  “Have a good night, Jaxon.”

  I say nothing, rooted to the ground, watching her walk into the parking lot.

  Wondering what the hell just happened.

  “I can’t believe you drank the coff
ee! That’s like the oldest trick in the book.”

  I glare at Dan across the table. I’m with the guys for a much-needed happy hour, and I just filled them in on what’s been going on with Raegan.

  Dan clutches his stomach as he doubles over. “That girl is a genius.”

  I rub my temples in small circles. “And the craziest part of this whole thing? My gut keeps telling me that Raegan’s telling the truth. But if that’s true, then what happened to the ring?” I take a long swig from my beer bottle. “It had to be her, right?”

  Smith shrugs. “Maybe this is why she’s divorced. She’s a nut bag.”

  “She might be a kleptomaniac,” Shaun says. “If that’s the case, it’s a disease and she can’t help it.”

  “You said she has a group of friends.” Smith’s eyes narrow. “Have you tried talking to them?”

  My eyebrows lift. “Would you guys rat me out if I stole something?”

  “No, but girls aren’t always tight-lipped about things. Maybe one of them will slip and give you a clue.”

  “What about other co-workers? People who’ve worked with her for a long time but don’t necessarily have allegiance to her?” Dan asks, finally recovered from his laughing fit.

  I ponder that while I drain the rest of my beer. “She seems pretty chummy with the gym teacher.”

  “I bet your brother is having a field day with this,” Shaun says.

  I roll my eyes. “He’s acting like all his years of immature bullshit got wiped clean. Like suddenly he’s a good guy.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He’s disappointed in me.”

  Dan grimaces. “That’s the worst. I’d rather my old man yell at me than say he’s disappointed.”

  “This will all blow over eventually.” Smith pats me on the back. “You can’t dwell on it forever. If the ring is gone, it’s gone. Nothing you can do.”

  Shaun leans in. “What if you’ve been going about this all wrong? What if you pull the ultimate prank?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “You’re assuming that torturing her will make her confess. What if you flip the script entirely? Be nice to her instead.”

  “How is that going to make her want to give back his ring?” Smith asks.

  “She was attracted to you the night you met. She wanted you. You can use that to your advantage.”

  Dan shakes his head. “With the way things are between them now, I doubt she feels anything for him other than wanting to chop his dick off.”

  I scratch the scruff on my chin, attempting to see things from Shaun’s point of view. “What are you suggesting I do?”

  “Treat her like you’re trying to get in her pants. Send her flowers. Apologize. Tell her you’ve taken things too far and you’d like to start fresh. Charm the pants off of her. Literally or figuratively.”

  “Again I ask: How is this going to make her confess to stealing the ring?” Smith asks.

  “Once a girl lets you in, once she trusts you, her conscience will eat away at her. Eventually, she’ll feel so guilty that she’ll have to confess. Think about it. Is someone going to open up to a jerk who’s bullying her every day, or will she open up to someone she has feelings for?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “So you’re saying you want me to fake woo her.”

  “And who knows?” Shaun grins. “Maybe you’ll even get laid because of it.”

  “Or maybe he’ll have a sexual harassment case against him,” Smith says. “You work with her, Jax. This is risky.”

  “The man wants his deceased grandmother’s ring back,” Shaun says. “I say it’s worth the risk.”

  Is it?

  Days Left Until Summer Break: 152

  Raegan

  “Who’s it from?” Sammi whispers.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back.

  “Go check.”

  “You go check.”

  “You should see what the card says,” Mary whispers.

  “What are you crazy bitches doing on the floor?” Kerry’s booming voice jolts me and the girls to an upright position.

  I clutch my chest. “Jesus. You scared the crap out of us.”

  “You almost just had more shit on your floor,” Mary says.

  Kerry looks around my classroom until her eyes land on the object in question. “Who sent you flowers, Rae?”

  “That’s what we were whispering about,” Becca says. “We don’t know who sent them to her. Now come in and close the door.”

  I take a deep breath and approach my desk as if there’s a detonated bomb on it. “They’re just flowers, right?”

  “Maybe they’re from Principal Fuckwad and there’s a beehive inside.”

  I freeze mid-step and toss a glare over my shoulder. “Kerr, don’t even joke about that.”

  “You never know. With the shit he’s pulled, I’d be careful.”

  I stretch my arm as far as my body will allow and snatch the card off the bouquet. The girls huddle around me as I pull it out of the envelope.

  “Dear Raegan,” I read aloud. “Truce? xo Jax.”

  My jaw drops. I read the card again. And again.

  Kerry’s the first one to speak. “Is he for real? Why do men always think a bouquet of flowers is going to undo everything they’ve done wrong?”

  I don’t respond. I can’t. I’m reading the card again.

  Mary swipes the flowers off my desk and inspects them, peeking in between the stem of each red rose. “These don’t look like a trap. They’re just flowers.”

  Finally, my voice returns. “There’s no such thing as just flowers. People send flowers for a reason.”

  “Maybe he realized that everything got way out of hand,” Sammi says, ever the optimist. “Maybe he’s sorry.”

  “I don’t trust it.” Andrea glances at her watch. “You have ten minutes before the bell rings. Go find out what this is about.”

  Clutching the card in my hand, my heart pounds with every step I take down the hallway. When I enter the main office, Jaxon’s door is closed.

  “Someone has a secret admirer,” Beth says with a smile.

  “Did you see who delivered the flowers?”

  “Nope. They were here with a post-it that said Room 1 so I brought them down to your room.”

  “Thanks. I need to talk to Principal Waters. Is he in yet?”

  “He is. Just give a knock.”

  I walk past her desk and knock on Jaxon’s door before letting myself in.

  Jaxon smiles when he sees me. “Good Morning, Raegan.”

  I arch an eyebrow and hold up the card. “What the hell does this mean?”

  “Oh, good. You got the flowers. I wasn’t sure which ones were your favorite, so I figured I’d go with a classic rose.”

  “Why?”

  He folds his hands on the desk. “I want to call a truce. I did a lot of thinking this weekend, and this whole thing between us has spiraled way out of control. You’re an employee and I shouldn’t be treating you this way.”

  “Why now? What changed?”

  He hikes a shoulder. “If you say you didn’t steal the ring, then you didn’t steal the ring. I don’t have any reason to believe you did.”

  I choke on my spit. “Are you kidding me?”

  His eyebrows collapse. “What?”

  “Just like that? After the past month of hell, you suddenly decide you believe me?”

  Jaxon leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I haven’t been thinking straight. My grandmother passed away. Then I got this job. When the ring went missing, I was so angry I blamed the first person I could.” He blows a stream of air through his lips. “I’m sorry, Raegan.”

  I toss the card onto his desk. “You’re full of shit. I can see right through your little plan. I’m not as gullible as you think.”

  He stands and tugs on my wrist as I turn to leave. “Raegan, please. Wait.” His hands trail up my arms and cup my shoulders.
“The night we met, you read me and my friends in two seconds flat. I know you can tell when someone’s bullshitting you. I mean it when I say I’m done with this war we’ve been having. It’s over.”

  Staring up into his eyes, I don’t know what to believe. He seems sincere, but after everything that’s happened, I don’t want to trust him. I don’t know if I can.

  Still, he’s my boss and I’m tired of the drama at my place of work. If this is what it will take for things to go back to normal, then maybe I have to try.

  I sigh. “Did you really think a bouquet of flowers was going to fix this?”

  His hands drop to his sides, shoulders slumping forward. “No. I have to start somewhere though.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Tangible items mean nothing to me. Hence me telling you over and over again that I didn’t steal the ring.”

  “Then what matters to you? What do I have to do to gain your trust?”

  “Just be nice, Jaxon. Be a good human. Do good for our school. That’s all I want from you.”

  “What about this?” He bends down behind his desk and comes back up with my long-lost shoe in his hand.

  Before I can say anything, the bell rings. So I snatch my shoe out of his grip and walk out of his office.

  During my lunch break, I hit up the Starbucks drive-thru.

  I’ve been thinking about Jaxon’s truce all morning. I tried putting myself in his shoes. He invites a stranger into his home, and then his grandmother’s ring goes missing. Any logical person would assume the stranger took it. Then said stranger turns out to be his employee … of course he’d go crazy trying to get the ring back.

  Jaxon doesn’t know me. The real me. Why should he take my word when I say I didn’t steal from him?

  Maybe it’s time he got to know who I am. No more tricks.

  I decide to go along with the truce, knowing there’s a 99% chance this is a ploy in his war against me. I’ll play along, but I’ll remain on guard.

  I knock on his open door before heading down to my classroom.

  “Hi there.”

  I approach him like I’m approaching a wild boar. “Hi.” I place a steaming coffee and a donut on his desk. “Before you say anything, I swear I didn’t put anything in your coffee.”