Daddy Boss

by Claire Bishop

  “Sorry, but no,” I said. Catalina pouted a little.

  “Well, a girl can dream, right?”

  I spent a bit of time in the kitchen familiarizing myself with everything again. Thankfully nothing was different, and there were no new cooks in the kitchen, so falling into my old routine should be a piece of cake. It was a bit odd that Phil hadn’t found a replacement for me, almost as if he knew I would eventually return. I shook my head; what did it matter anyways?

  The kitchen opened shortly afterward, and as co-chef, I had the lovely job of making sure everything was prepped and ready for the head chef when his shift started just an hour before the dinner crowd. I had hoped that meant I was in charge during lunch, but I quickly learned that our head chef had left several notes telling me in explicit detail what I was to do until he arrived.

  I obeyed the notes and busied myself with meaningless tasks that anyone else could have done. Scrubbing potatoes, counting the loaves of bread, baking the bread, making sure that the mushrooms were ready for sautéing, then double checking that the mushrooms were ready. The restaurant filled up quickly, and it wasn’t long until I was standing over the plating table making sure that every plate was neat and up to standards.

  “Everly.” Phil rounded the corner and nearly screamed my name. I jumped and followed him into his office, brushing my dirty hands onto my white apron.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, worried that there had been a mistake on my return. I had been doing everything as told, and at the very least, expected Phil to pretend to be happy at my arrival.

  “There’s a discrepancy with the loaves,” he said and showed me a piece of paper that listed how many loaves we should have opened with versus how many we had. All of our bread was baked fresh within the morning for lunch, but every now and then a cook will save one or two overnight to help the lunch rush. They heated up just as well as a fresh baked loaf, and it was a practice that was common in many top restaurants.

  “Did anyone save a loaf from last night?” I asked. Phil sat at his desk and opened a thick folder.

  “How am I supposed to know that?” he asked. “It sounds like a problem for our co-chef.”

  “I wasn’t even here last night,” I said. “I don’t know who was on the roster.”

  “So, find out,” he said, and dismissed me. I closed the door to his office behind me and took a deep breath. These were the type of complaints I had expected, but still, it was a bit discouraging to receive them within hours of my first day. I shook my head and forced myself to stop worrying. I’d stick it out, put up with Phil and his complaints until I get that head chef hat, and then I’ll have more of a presence in the kitchen.

  I hurried down the hall toward the kitchen; the lunch rush would be over soon. The kitchen door opened just as I was reaching for it, and I nearly ran straight into the hard chest of a man.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and straightened. Maddox stared at me, his eyes wide from our impact as well. “Oh, Maddox.” My pulse quickened at the sight of him.

  “Everly,” he said. We stood in awkward silence until a cook rushed from the door around us. I realized that I was at work and that I was still on the clock.

  “I’m at work,” I said. My hands played with the dirty fabric of my apron, and Maddox’s eyes followed the movement.

  “I noticed.” He sighed and placed his hands on my arms just below my shoulders. “Listen, I need to talk to you.” His gray eyes were dark in the dim lighting of the hall, and his five o’clock shadow was starting to grow. There were bags under his eyes, and frown lines around his lips. Still, he was as handsome as ever in a gray business suit, and I forced myself thoughts to stay innocent as he stared at me.

  “Can it wait until after my shift?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “I waited long enough to talk to you; I don’t think I could wait another second.” He had a desperation in his voice that I’d never heard before. “Despite everything that’s happened between us, the one true thing has always been that you’re an amazing chef, and you deserve your own restaurant. My feelings for you haven’t clouded my judgment, and I struggle to think of a single meal that you’ve made that hasn’t wowed me.”

  “Thanks, I think? But really, Maddox, if I don’t get back to work right now, I’ll get in trouble.”

  “Abby just wants a mother,” he said. My hands clenched around my apron as I stared at him with an open mouth. “She doesn’t know what having a mother really means. All she knows is that other kids have a mom, and I think she just wants to say that she has one, too. She didn’t mean to freak you out, and I didn’t either. You’re incredible, Everly, truly. And you deserve better than this shit job with a shit title that you and I both know is fake.”

  I stumbled backward. “Wait, how did you know about that?”

  Phil’s door opened, and his head popped out. I gasped, realizing that the walls are paper thin and that Phil most likely heard every word Maddox just said.

  “What the hell are you trying to do, Maddox?” Phil growled. My head was beginning to spin. Did they know each other? I had assumed they met once at the auction, but I didn’t think any more of that. “Get out of here before I kick your ass.”

  “Don’t embarrass yourself, Phil,” Maddox said. “You’re treating Everly like this because you know she won’t stand up for herself if you keep dangling the head chef’s hat over her head. Well, I’m not going to let you treat her like this anymore. She deserves better.”

  “Maddox,” I tried interrupting them, but Phil had pushed past me.

  “She likes where she is. In a year or two, she’ll be at the top. That’s what she deserves, working hard to get where she wants to go. Right, Everly?” Phil asked, though he didn’t once look at me.

  “Let her decide, then.” Maddox met my eyes. “Everly, do you want to stay here and working for this selfish asshole, or do you want to join me as lead chef for my All You Can Eat restaurants ideas team?”

  “What!” I wasn’t sure who screamed it, me or Phil, but in that very moment, I knew what the right decision was. I untied my apron.

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Phil,” I said. He turned to stare as I let my apron fall into the floor.

  “You’re going to regret this,” Phil warned, but I was already walking away with Maddox. “Everly! You walk out that door, and you’re never welcome back here at Saint Padres ever again!”

  I was shaking, and my heart was beating quickly, but with Maddox beside me, I realized I had the courage to leave Saint Padres behind me, and walk out the door without looking back.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Maddox

  I followed her to her car, just in case Phil decided he wanted to scream at her outside as well.

  “Thank you,” Everly said. “Did you really mean what you said, though?”

  “What part?” I asked. “You being incredible, or the job offer?” Everly smiled.

  “The job offer,” she said.

  “Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t let you make such a dramatic exit without having a backup plan,” I said. “If you really want it, the job is yours.”

  She leaned against her car and sighed. “It feels like a dream,” she admitted. “Everything about you feels like a dream.”

  “Is that a good thing?” I asked. She nodded.

  “At least I think so.” She opened her door and slid behind the steering wheel. “I need to get out of these clothes.”

  “Have dinner with me?” I leaned forward. “Just this once? I’ll never ask again, I promise.”

  “Where at?” she asked.

  “My house. We can cook together, anything you want,” I said. Everly smiled, as if I were promising something she had been longing for.

  “I’ll meet you at your house,” she said. My shoulders slumped with relief. “Just give me an hour or so.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” I said and watched as she drove away. I couldn’t imagine how this day could get any better. I had gotten Everl
y back into my life, given her an actual position in my company, and now was planning on having a legitimate dinner with her.

  I knew we had a serious conversation to discuss, but just seeing her wide smile was enough for now.

  I retraced my steps back to my car and dialed Nick.

  “Abby’s fine, man,” he said as he answered. “You don’t have to keep calling.”

  “Everly’s coming over for dinner,” I said. “Do you mind keeping Abby over a little longer?”

  “Oh, damn. Of course not. She can spend the night if you want,” he said. “Is everything good?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “Maybe, I think so. I hope so. We’ll see, but she doesn’t seem angry or upset.” I leaned against my headrest. “She actually seems as relieved as I am.”

  “Good,” Nick said. I could hear his smile in his voice. “I’m happy for you; I hope everything turns out alright.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Oh, and if you let Abby watch another one of your slasher films, I’m going to break into your window with a chainsaw this time. My poor girl can’t even sleep in her own bed because of your shitty horror movies.”

  “You try watching “Frozen” three times every weeknight,” he said. “You’ll soon be begging for the horror movies.”

  “Stick with the princesses and snowmen,” I said, and thanked him for watching her. I arrived home after a grueling 30 minutes of sitting in traffic. I spent 15 minutes dusting and cleaning and making sure the house wasn’t a mess as I eagerly awaited the doorbell to ring. I hadn’t had the house cleaner over in a while, and for a few days, Abby had been the only one in the house who had the energy to dust. She had broken two lamps and knocked over a crystal figure before I had convinced her to stop cleaning, and the house had suffered since then. I barely had enough time to pour wine into the decanter before Everly rang the doorbell.

  I answered the door with a cheesy grin on my face.

  “Wow,” I said. Her cheeks reddened with a blush as she lowered her chin and looked up at me. I stepped aside, and she entered my house. Her dress was little more than a black slip, and it brought out the red in her hair and green in her eyes like never before. The dress framed her ass perfectly.

  I shook my head; we weren’t at that stage yet. First, we had to try to get through dinner without anyone running away screaming.

  “You look amazing,” I said.

  “Thanks. I wasn’t really sure if this was too dressed up. But then I realized that you’re always dressed up to the nines, so I thought I’d come in as a seven,” she said and shook her head. “God, that joke was awful.”

  “I can’t disagree.” I turned and led her to the kitchen.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asked. I opened my fridge and started retrieving various items until we both settled on a classic meatloaf.

  “Simple enough,” I said. “We can make some chocolate-covered strawberries while the meatloaf’s in the oven. That way, they can freeze while we eat dinner.”

  “Dinner and dessert?” Everly asked. “I’m pretty sure I only agreed to one.”

  I smiled. “So are you saying no to chocolate and strawberries?”

  “As if it’s even possible to say no to such a thing,” she said. We started prepping the meatloaf, falling into a comfortable routine of chopping and dicing. I formed the loaf with my bare hands as Everly chopped the strawberries into a rose.

  “Fifty minutes,” I said as I set the timer on the oven. I turned to find Everly already dipping the strawberries into a pot of melted chocolate. The very tip of her bottom lip was covered in chocolate, and I brushed a finger over it slowly. She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. I moved to wipe my finger on a towel, but Everly grabbed my hand and slipped my finger in between her lips, slowly running her tongue around the chocolate and swallowing.

  I moaned, my thoughts preoccupied by my finger in between her lips.

  “Are you going to make me do the rest on my own?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “What?” She gestured at the rest of the naked strawberries and the melted chocolate. “Oh, of course not.” I took a deep breath and picked up a strawberry. She was killing me, and with that smirk on her face, she knew it.

  We finished the strawberries and made small talk until the meatloaf was finished. I sat our plates at the dinner table and pulled out her chair. She offered me a warm smile as she lowered herself into the chair and scooted forward. I took the seat beside her, and my nerves were put on edge a bit remembering the last time we sat at this table together.

  “I’m sorry,” she said abruptly. “About everything. I didn’t realize it until recently, but I overreacted. I didn’t mean to freak out when Abby showed me the painting. I was just scared. I feel horrible, and I hope it didn’t hurt her feelings.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I was worried that she was growing too attached to you, but I didn’t knock it off when I should have. She obviously has mom issues; I think she was just excited that at the idea of having a mom.”

  “She clearly doesn’t know how awful of a mom I’d be.” Everly joked. “Or else she wouldn’t be so excited.”

  “I think you’d be wonderful,” I whispered. Everly glanced at me with wide eyes. “I don’t mean anything by that, of course.”

  “I don’t know my father,” she admitted. “I know his name, what his favorite band was, who his favorite sports teams were, but I didn’t know him. Still, I never once wanted a father growing up because my mom was always in between husbands. I made the decision early on that I was better off without a dad, and from there decided that I was also better off not getting married and having kids. I spent the majority of Belle’s life loathing her, but only because she reminded me of myself. And then when I saw Abby’s painting, it made me remember all the times that Lacey begged Mom to find us a dad. And Lacey’s disappointment every time our new dad left.”

  “I didn’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how awful that must have felt.” I hated to think of her as a child, hurting and having to face such things and make such strong declarations because of other people’s actions.

  “That’s just the thing.” Everly leaned forward. “It must have been just as awful for you. I was only thinking of myself, and how I felt, that I never once imagined what you or Abby were going through. I’ve been selfish this past week.”

  “And what about children?” I asked, hesitant to bring up the topic. “I know you were against having your own.”

  “I’ll admit, the thought absolutely terrifies me,” she said. “And I don’t think I would do a good job; I really don’t. But, for some strange reason, having you beside me makes things less scary. I find this courage that I didn’t know existed when I’m around you, and it makes me realize that I’m capable a lot more than I previously thought.”

  We finished the meatloaf as she fell into a momentary silence.

  “It’s not as terrifying a thought knowing that I’ll have your hand to hold. Is that silly?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Not at all, Everly. I don’t want to force you into absolutely anything, but I want you to know that I’ll always hold your hand when you need it, and I’ll be there to give you a little nudge when you don’t.”

  She smiled at me, a true and honest smile, and we carried our plates to the kitchen. She opened the freezer and placed two chocolate-covered strawberries on the kitchen counter.

  I opened my mouth to ask her what she wanted to happen between the two of us, but a bright painting caught the corner of my eye. I realized Abby’s painting was still on the fridge, and in direct eyesight of Everly.

  “Oh.” I grabbed the top corners of the painting and placed it on the counter. She stood beside me and placed a hand on mine.

  “It’s okay,” she said and picked up the painting. She examined it for a moment before pinning it back on the fridge. “I’m sorry I acted that way over this. It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Are you sure?”
I asked. “I can put it away for the night.”

  “I’m positive. I love it,” she said. “Leave it up.” I couldn’t wait to tell Abby that she thought it was beautiful, and hoped that Everly would have the chance to tell her instead.

  I made sure the magnets were thick enough to hold it, and turned toward Everly.

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice but a whisper. She stood on her tiptoes as her arms went around my neck, and then she closed her eyes and kissed me. It was a simple kiss at first, just a soft brush against my lips, but I felt the moment her body reacted to mine, and she deepened it. My hand cupped the back of her neck as the other ran its fingers through her hair, messing up the loose bun at the top of her head.

  She moaned into me and pulled me closer. Our tongues danced with each other’s, and I felt a wave of desire wash over me as I pushed her against the kitchen counter. My aching hunger for her grew, and she leaned her head backward as my hands roamed her body.

  I slipped my hands beneath her thighs and lifted her onto the counter, but she shook her head.

  “Not here,” she said in between kisses. Her hand grabbed my tie and pulled me toward the stairs. I followed eagerly, my mind stuck in a haze where all I could see was her.

  She led me to my room and pushed me onto the bed. She parted her knees and straddled me, continuing our kisses until her hands began to unbutton my shirt. She gave me a hungry stare and then licked her lips before crushing her lips against mine once again.

  Her hands slipped my shirt over my shoulders until if fell back, and I shrugged my arms free. After pausing to slip off her blouse, she tugged on my zipper as I caressed her breasts, working my way to the clasp on her bra. She did me a favor and quickly snapped it free, her breasts spilling from the cups and into my hands where I rubbed soft circles against her. Moments later we were both naked, and I couldn’t get enough of the sight of her as she lowered herself against me. Everly leaned toward my hips, but I grabbed her shoulders and gently moved her onto her back.