Miss Understanding (The Miss Series Book 1)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  “In all honesty, I don’t know what I’d do without you this week—or any day, for that matter. I realize I’m not easy to work for or, hell, even be around, but I do appreciate your efforts even when it doesn’t seem like I do.” Matter of fact, I was still reeling from her outburst about wanting to quit her job.

  “Thank you,” she said and suddenly hugged me.

  I was stunned but soon relaxed, tightening my arms around her. Her head came up to my chest, and her petite frame fit into my body almost as though it had been made to. Suddenly, I felt I had to break the connection and stepped back. I instantly missed the warmth when I did so.

  Ironic that the reason I had never let her close was the fear of letting her too close.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hug you.”

  Yet she had. When was the last time someone had tried to give me comfort? Her gesture was so unrehearsed. So authentic. “It’s okay.”

  Despite the dim light, I witnessed her face flush. Then she was quickly changing the subject. “Are you hungry at all?”

  “No. I’m still full from dinner. It was really good, by the way.” Compliments. I could be better at giving them. Judging by the way her face lit up, she appreciated it. Driving the point home that I should be a lot freer with giving them.

  “Thanks. You want wine?”

  “No, thanks, I have whiskey.”

  She poured herself a glass of red and joined me in the living room where I took a seat in the reclining chair.

  She was quiet for a moment, then biting her lip as if she wanted to ask something.

  “I can practically hear your brain humming. What is it?”

  She sighed and was out with it. “Why did you come home, Liam? If it would be this painful?”

  It was a question I often asked myself. And now that the hard stuff was out in the open, it was easier to give her more of the details. Hell, it felt good to have someone in whom to confide. “I didn’t want to, but ultimately I came for my mother. After my dad left, my mom worked two jobs and did everything for us kids.”

  “It’s why you don’t come home. Because of the bad memories?”

  “Yeah. It’s not easy. Especially since my mom lives in the same house from our childhood. I tried to get her to move, but she loves it.”

  “Must mean there were some good memories there, too, then.”

  Probably. But I’d never focused on those.

  Needing to change the subject, I asked something I was curious about. “What club are you bartending for?”

  She gulped more of her wine. “Um, it’s in LA.”

  There was something she wasn’t telling me. “And? What’s the name?”

  Again with another gulp. “I’d rather not tell you.”

  Now she had to. “In that case, I’m calling in my bet chip.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You’re calling in what?”

  “The bet from bowling. You owe me something, and I choose the truth. Spill it.”

  She drained her glass and got up to pour more. “I don’t believe it when they say there are four glasses to each bottle. More like two and a half.”

  Her stall technique was only making me curious. It also made me forget about the melancholy part of the evening. “Tell me.”

  “No. Pick another bet chip to cash in.”

  “I argue for a living. Do you really think I’m letting this drop? What is the name of the club? Not like I intend to go there.”

  “No, I don’t imagine you would.” She took a deep breath and drank more of her wine. “But if I tell you, you have to promise not to judge.”

  “All right.”

  “Fine. It’s the Cheetah Club.”

  Why did the name sound familiar? Then it hit me. I’d previously done business with the owner. “The dance club?” My voice had gone up an octave. If I remembered correctly, the place had a number of scantily clad women dancing in cages above the floor, not to mention a private club on the upper floors which catered to gambling and private stripping. I could only hope she wasn’t involved in that side of the club.

  “Yeah. But I don’t dance. I only bartend.”

  I was silent.

  “You said you wouldn’t judge.” Her hands fidgeted with her hair.

  “I’m not. I’m simply processing. It can’t be safe.” I could only imagine how many men hit on her on a nightly basis. Thinking about it, I didn’t like the idea of her working late every Friday and Saturday night with a crowd of drunks.

  “It’s perfectly safe. At least if I get groped there, then someone is getting tossed on their ass out the door, never to return. Can’t say the same for my other work place.”

  “What are you talking about?” She’d been groped at the firm?

  “It’s the wine talking. Anyhow, the club is safe. My roommate and I have a bodyguard who walks us out to our car each night.”

  Unlike me, she had a life outside of the job. “Let’s get back to the groping in the office. Who?”

  She didn’t say a word. I tried a new tactic. “I’ve just spilled my guts to you, Kendall. You know you can trust me.”

  “I know.”

  I jogged my memory for the partner she’d been assigned to before me. “Mike Octavus?”

  Her face said everything before her words. “The secretaries call him Octopus. Eight arms all trying to touch you. Anyhow, it only happened once at the office holiday party.”

  My temper instantly reached a boiling point. Especially since he was still with the firm. “Did you report it to HR?”

  “Yes. Afterwards, I was reassigned to you.”

  “And you don’t have any contact with him?”

  “No. I mean sometimes I’ll see him in the cafeteria, but I keep my distance.”

  The Executive Committee would definitely be hearing from me on this. Mike might be a longtime partner, but frankly, his billings were down, and he didn’t have nearly the client power that I did. I would never work to put my name on a firm condoning that type of behavior. Ever. It made me question the integrity of the firm in general if they were covering up an issue like sexual harassment.

  “You look angry.”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Mm, I might disagree. Your jaw sort of does this thing.”

  I had to let it go for now. The last thing I wanted was for her to think any of my anger was directed toward her. “Not at you. At him. For touching you when he had no right.”

  We were silent for a few minutes before I vocalized my thoughts. “I think you should go home tomorrow. I can drive you to the airport, or we can find a car service to take you.”

  “Why? Tomorrow is Monday, and your schedule is packed.”

  “I know. But this is more than a simple business trip, and I’m sure my mood will only get worse the closer we get to the funeral.”

  “It’s only four days away, and I want to be sure I’m here to oversee the catering. Make sure everything goes smoothly. And if working helps ease your stress, then I’ll help you with that, too.”

  Although I’d been sincere in offering to let her get the hell out, I was instantly relieved she was willing to stay. “Who did you end up going with for the food?”

  “A catering place out of Blacksburg. They have great reviews and were willing to travel here.”

  “Good. Thanks for taking care of it.”

  Her wide eyes met mine; she was clearly surprised by my appreciation. It only drove home how shitty I’d been for withholding it for so long.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kendall

  As I lay in bed, unable to sleep hours after our conversation, my head was spinning. And it wasn’t the wine. My heart broke for what Liam and his family had endured. I could only imagine how difficult it was for both Liam and Allison to be there for their mother despite their feelings about their father. Did I believe in second chances? Absolutely. But I wasn’t sure beating on your kids and wife was redeemable. Even two decades later.
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  I also couldn’t believe I’d hugged the man for whom I’d made a list of ways he could suffer. My, how times had changed. I’d gone from loathing to sympathizing. And now that I’d managed a peek behind the curtain, I could understand a lot more about what drove him. I could also see his absolute sincerity when he’d apologized for his behavior.

  Although he’d said I could trust in him, I wondered if it had been a good idea to confide that I worked for the Cheetah Club. Or to have told him about my former boss groping me. I blamed my loose lips on the alcohol I’d consumed tonight. Yet despite having revealed those things, I sensed we were in a much better place. It was almost like learning about one another had opened up the door for—well, a sort of connection. Maybe friendship?

  Yet the little voice in my brain asked if I thought of my other friends naked.

  Nope. I sure didn’t.

  Nor would I think of my boss that way. Not pressing me into the mattress with his body weight. Not his delicious abs I’d practically drooled over when he’d come back from his run. Not his piercing eyes locked on mine. Not the feel of his warm lips against my skin. Shit.

  Ugh. What I needed was sex. The good kind. I’d had a high school boyfriend during my final two years, and then there was a guy I’d dated about a year ago, but the sex had left a lot to be desired.

  Although I had plenty of offers every working weekend at the club, I wasn’t a girl who did sex without feelings. Someday, perhaps when I had more time to meet quality guys, I hoped to have a relationship. Meet a man with whom I could plan a future with and eventually have children. But for now, I had the responsibility for my grandmother’s care and was busy trying to finish my degree.

  The next morning while I was making breakfast, Liam came into the kitchen dressed casually in jeans and a dark gray sweater.

  “What are these?” he asked, watching me flip the pancakes.

  He seemed more relaxed than I’d seen him all week. Perhaps our talk last night had helped break the ice of the previous formality.

  “Snowman pancakes.” I’d done three circles in the batter, then was fixing bacon as a scarf and blueberries and chocolate chips for eyes and buttons.

  “How many are you making?” He was staring at the large pile accumulating on the plate.

  “A few. Your sister texted this morning and sort of invited herself and the girls over for breakfast. Hope you don’t mind?”

  He only smiled. “No, I don’t mind at all. She likes you.”

  “I like her. And your nieces are adorable.”

  “Agreed. They’ll love these pancakes.”

  Ten minutes later, both girls were at the table squealing at my snowmen.

  “These pancakes are so cute. Will you teach me how to make them?” Allison asked.

  “Of course.” We did a quick lesson in which I showed her snowmen and Mickey Mouse shapes.

  “These are amazing. So, Kendall, I’m curious. You want kids?”

  I wasn’t sure why I found myself blushing. It was an easy answer. “Yeah. At least three or four of them someday.” What could I say? Being an only child had made me always wish for siblings.

  We both looked over toward Liam, who was holding the baby on his lap and choking on his OJ. Weird.

  She gave him a smile. “You okay, little brother?”

  “Yes. But stop matchmaking.” His handsome face was a shade of pink while his sister was the picture of innocence.

  I was confused. “Matchmaking who? Me?”

  Allison smiled. “I just thought maybe you and my brother.”

  My mouth hung open. No wonder her brother was choking on his drink. “No. We’re not. I mean we don’t.” Shit, I couldn’t seem to form complete sentences. Maybe because I’d had quite the vivid dream last night of him in my bed.

  “I’m not her type,” he offered up.

  What the hell? “Yeah, and he’s my boss.” Did he forget about that part?

  “What’s your type?” Allison inquired.

  I peered at Liam, holding the youngest girl on his lap. My ovaries wanted to revolt and shout he was my type, after all. My mind wouldn’t let them.

  He fixed his narrowed gaze on her. “Stop teasing, sis. We’re only coworkers.”

  She sighed. “Alas, one can hope. But I don’t believe my brother would ever slow down enough to have kids.”

  From what I’d seen, I believed it.

  Liam stayed quiet despite smiling at his baby niece.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  The question earned Allison a glare from her brother. “Give it up, Ally. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s okay. To answer your question, I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment.”

  “With working two jobs and school, I’m sure you don’t have the time.”

  “No. Not really.”

  “Does your firm not pay enough, brother dear?”

  “Are you sure you’re the only litigator in the family? I feel cross-examined,” I teased, not wanting to get into my reasons for needing a second job.

  Thankfully, Liam laughed at my joke and got up with the baby. “You’re nosey, Ally, and I think this one needs a diaper change.”

  “Nice segue. Fine. Come here, you.” She took her daughter in her arms.

  “You can use the master bedroom at the end of the hall.”

  “Thanks, and sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  “It’s fine. Really.” The only thing making me uncomfortable was thinking way too much about her brother.

  Liam and I spent the afternoon knee deep in files. Then, when I got an hour break from organizing key information, I finished a couple of his invoices and put his billable time into the system. I also submitted my overtime.

  “Why are your overtime hours so low?” he asked two minutes after I hit the submit button for his approval.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’ve been working more hours than what you put in. Travel time, et cetera.”

  “I wasn’t sure about the travel time. And I’m only putting in hours above the eight normal hours I work in a day.”

  “You’re about twenty short by my estimation. I’m sending it back for you to correct.”

  Twenty more hours was being generous. It would also more than make up for missing the two nights at the club.

  “Also make sure you put the house rental to my personal number. And let me know how much I owe you for the coat and boots and other winter stuff.”

  “You can’t pay for my clothes.”

  His brows drew together. “Yes, I can. You wouldn’t have needed them if I hadn’t insisted you come with me. It’s the least I can do.”

  I hesitated, but logic and the fact every dollar counted won out. “Okay. I will. So, I realize you won the bet, but any chance you still want to learn to make fettucine Alfredo tonight?”

  His hesitation made me immediately regret the offer. He was busy with much more important stuff. I don’t know what I was thinking in asking.

  “It’s okay. Forget I asked.”

  “I’ll do it. I love chicken Alfredo.”

  “Yeah?” I wasn’t sure why I was so excited to share my love of cooking with him, but I couldn’t help my smile at the thought of him in the kitchen with me.

  “Sure. But please tell me we don’t have to return to the grocery store.”

  “Don’t worry. I have everything we’ll need.”

  By six o’clock I was starving and started taking out all of the ingredients, prepping my work station on the counter. I was pleased when I didn’t need to remind Liam, who came in with his sleeves rolled up.

  “Okay, I’m washing my hands, then I’m ready to help.”

  “Great. We’ll start with making the pasta.”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean make the pasta? Don’t you get it from a box?”

  I laughed. “You can, but I promise this is so much better.”

  I poured the flour on the countertop and made a
volcano-type mound of it into which to crack the eggs.

  “Won’t it take a lot of time?”

  I shrugged. “Yep, and it’ll be worth it. I promise. Okay, crack four eggs into the center of the flour well.”

  He did as I asked, his big hands fully capable of the task. I tried not to stare at his muscled forearms. Never would I have guessed cooking with him would be quite so sexy.

  “Next, use this fork like you’re scrambling the eggs, pulling in more flour as you go.”

  “Like this?” he asked, stirring them.

  I scooted in front of him. “No, more like this. Then, when it gets too thick, we’ll switch to you using your hands.”

  He let out a long sigh.

  “What, too slow for you?”

  “A bit. I guess you could say I like to do most things as quickly as possible.”

  “Why?” Didn’t he ever want to slow down and enjoy the process?

  “I’m a man who likes to be efficient and not waste time. The quicker the better.”

  I felt my face heat as his words instantly sent my mind to the gutter.

  Chapter Twenty

  Liam

  Heat creeped up my neck when Kendall blushed, and I realized the way my words had sounded. “I didn’t mean— You know what I meant.”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course.”

  Neither of us was admitting we’d slipped into dangerous territory. The thought of my assistant hinting at sex made me all sorts of uneasy.

  Damn. I blamed the fact it had been months since I’d last had a woman in my bed. With as many hours as I clocked, it simply wasn’t the priority. Perhaps I would call Gina once I returned. She was down for a no-strings commitment when she was in town. She worked in PR for one of the movie studios in LA. I’d met her through friends. She was beautiful, successful, and driven. Yet she didn’t hold a candle to the natural beauty standing beside me.

  Frankly, aside from Gina, who was always up for a good time, I didn’t stay in touch with anyone I’d slept with. I’d never sought anything serious. Hell, I barely had time for my family across the country, let alone a girlfriend. And although my sister had been nosey to ask Kendall the questions she had, I’d learned an important fact about my assistant. She was undoubtedly a relationship girl.