Dear Boss: A Single Dad Office Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 3)

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Dear Boss: A Single Dad Office Romance (Forbidden First Times Book 3) Page 5

by Sofia T Summers


  “That’s right,” I said with a laugh. “I think people with long names are extra special, don’t you?” I winked down at him and he nodded.

  “Yu-huh! We’re the best. Nice to meet you, Miss Billie!”

  As quickly as he’d arrived, Lincoln was off like a shot back toward his father again. The smile on my face didn’t falter as I watched him begin to talk Quentin’s ear off again, but I did stand up and smooth down my clothes again. The two of them looked so content and happy together that I couldn’t help but envy them. I was looking forward to starting a family of my own one day and I would have loved it if my child was as adorable, friendly, and chatty as Lincoln was.

  My stomach growled and stopped me from staring openly at the father and son in front of me. After a quick sniff of the air, I could tell that the food had already been served and it smelled delicious. I headed in the direction of the large table near the kitchenette and I was greeted by the sight of an array of colorful dishes. There was a small dish of some kind of curry, a platter of fancy-looking sandwiches, cakes, slices of meat, breaded chicken bites, and much, much more. My mouth was practically watering as I took it all in.

  I looked around at the few members of staff who were also here to grab their lunch and I followed their lead. I picked up a ceramic plate and began to make my way around the table until I reached someone who stood behind it and was serving ladles full of chicken noodle soup. She was taller than me, but her build was similar. She had a small waist but wide hips and sizeable breasts underneath her white apron.

  “Hiya,” I greeted her with a smile. “This all looks amazing.”

  The young woman smiled back, her blue eyes twinkling. “Thank you. You must be Billie, the new girl. I’m Tracy, I work down in the kitchen as a sous chef. We don’t get new people working here very often, so word gets around!” She laughed.

  “I’m sure,” I agreed. “I heard that the boss pays for all this, is that right?”

  Tracy nodded. “Yep, every Friday!”

  “But, what about you guys in the kitchen? Do you not get to eat?” I questioned.

  “Well, sure we do,” Tracy responded as she adjusted her hairnet over her thick brown hair. “Working with food means we never really get the same lunch time as everyone else, but Quentin makes sure we get a nice delivery of food in the afternoon when you guys are all finished.”

  He even takes care of the restaurant staff, I thought to myself as my cheeks heated. The more I learned about my boss, the more I found myself getting attracted to him. It was becoming a serious problem and yet, I wanted to know more. My curiosity was getting the better of me.

  “Quentin sure does seem like a nice guy,” I probed, leaning over the table a little. “Do you know him well?”

  “Who, me?” Tracy asked and then shook her head. “Not really, no. I just see him every now and again at staff meetings. He always does seem nice though. He gives us all a pretty generous Christmas bonus too.”

  I nodded, absorbing all the information Tracy could give me like a sponge. “I’ve never had such a nice boss before,” I divulged.

  “You’re right, we certainly are lucky,” she agreed. “Anyway, if you ever get hungry, you should come down and eat at the restaurant! The food is much better when it’s not served like a buffet.”

  With a nod, I told her, “That sounds great, Tracy. I’ll have to do that some time.”

  I didn’t want to make it too obvious how much I was interested in Quentin, so I kept my mouth shut and Tracy began to tell me about all the different food options for lunch today and after much consideration, I settled on the soup. I thought that the smell of it was heavenly as I walked over to a small table where Peter was already sitting with a plate of sandwiches.

  “Do you mind if I sit with you?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” Peter replied and pulled out a chair for me. I gratefully sat down and began to spin my spoon around in the soup bowl.

  Peter was talking to me about some conversation he’d had with his father, but I was only half paying attention. If I looked a little bit over his shoulder, I had a clear view of Quentin and Lincoln who were talking and playing on the couch still. I couldn’t help but watch them. My eyes were drawn to them and I was so enamored by their bond.

  Oh, boy. I’m in trouble.

  8

  Quentin

  Waking up late on the weekends had become my biggest guilty pleasure. Thankfully, unlike a lot of other toddlers, Lincoln enjoyed sleeping in the morning to a reasonable time—well, at least more reasonable than other kids. It meant that I got to wake up around nine instead of six like during the week. Peter helped out a lot by watching over the vineyard on the weekends and so, I actually had time to spend with my son instead of working all the time.

  With a yawn, I rolled over and saw that Lincoln was already awake next to me. He didn’t usually sleep in my bed, but he’d run into my bedroom at 2am last night screaming and describing a nightmare to me. After that, he wouldn’t settle in his own bed and I happily cuddled and rocked him to sleep just like I had done when he was newborn.

  “Mornin’, Linc,” I greeted with a smile.

  “Morning, Daddy!” he cried with a big grin. “It’s morning time!”

  “I know,” I told him with a laugh before reaching out to cuddle him. “Are you excited to spend some time with Daddy today?”

  “Yes!” he exclaimed as he wriggled out of my grasp and up onto his feet. “Daddy, play! Daddy, play!” He repeated himself over and over as he bounced on the mattress excitedly.

  “Okay, okay, Linc,” I said, shaking my head. “But you know the drill! You need to get dressed and eat something first, okay? What would you like this morning? Eggs? Corn flakes?”

  Lincoln stood still for a moment as he contemplated his choice before erupting in a scream of “Eggs! Eggs!”

  “Let’s get that empty tummy of yours fed then, shall we?” I said as I sat up and grabbed him around the waist.

  “Daddy!” he protested, kicking his legs against me as I lifted him and climbed off the bed. “Put me down!”

  “When you were a baby, I used to carry you everywhere, Linc,” I teased him as I headed toward the kitchen. “Don’t you want Daddy to carry you anymore?”

  Lincoln shook his head violently. “I’m a big boy! I can walk!”

  “Okay, okay, big boy,” I said as I let him down in the corridor. “Race you to the kitchen?”

  Lincoln nodded his head before running at full speed toward the kitchen. I laughed at him for a moment before jogging behind him. Naturally, he reached the kitchen first and he screamed delightedly.

  “I win! I win!” he cried as he jumped up and down.

  “Yes, you did, my little champion.” I ruffled his hair affectionately before walking toward the fridge and opening it up. “Now, go sit at the table like a good boy and Daddy’ll make you the best scrambled eggs in the world, okay?”

  Lincoln nodded. “Can I bring dino?” he asked as he darted toward the sofa and picked up one of his favorite stuffed animals.

  “Of course, should I make a plate for dino too?”

  “Of course!” Lincoln echoed as he clambered onto the dining chair and plonked his ‘dino’ down on the table. He began to imitate roaring sounds while I pottered around getting everything ready to cook.

  It was probably one of the better examples of our usual Saturday morning routine, but for the first time, my mind began to wonder if something was missing. Memories of Lincoln’s mother danced before my eyes as I looked over at the kitchen table. I remembered the mornings when she would be sitting with Lincoln at the table, coloring and drawing with him while I made breakfast. Things sure would be easier with someone else around to care for him, but that wasn’t the only reason I was thinking about my ex.

  No, I worried that Lincoln might need a motherly influence in his life and as soon as my thoughts went down that road, I began picturing Billie’s face. Even though I’d forbidden myself from getting involve
d with an employee again, I couldn’t help but wonder if I should make an exception for this one. After all, Billie was exactly my type and she was young, funny, and kind. She didn’t look like she’d harm a fly, let alone me.

  Yeah, that’s what you thought about the last one’s too, a snide voice in the back of my head reminded me.

  It was right. I couldn’t risk getting someone involved in our lives again. I couldn’t keep upheaving Lincoln’s life like that. It wasn’t fair. Instead, I began to think about other ways to surround Lincoln with positive influences. The eggs I’d been cooking on the stove were well and truly scrambled by the time I’d finished daydreaming and I served them to Lincoln on a small blue plate when they’d cooled down a little.

  “Bon Appetit,” I said as I placed it down in front of my son.

  “Bone apple what?” he questioned before shrugging and digging into the food in front of him.

  I laughed and grabbed my phone from where I’d left it on the counter while I’d been cooking. I scrolled through my contacts as I considered my dilemma when a brilliant idea came to me. I turned to look over at Lincoln and then pulled up a chair next to him.

  “Hey, buddy, how would you feel about having a little picnic with Nana and Papa today?” I asked.

  Lincoln looked up at me and his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Yes! Yes!” he told me.

  “Okay, okay, I’ve got to check with Nana first and see what she says, okay?”

  Lincoln nodded.

  With that idea in mind, I began typing out a quick message and then sent it to my mother. While I waited for a response, I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a fruit smoothie from inside. I took a long gulp of it and felt my phone vibrate in my hand as I did.

  ‘Sounds great’ was the response I received and with a smile, I began to write back to arrange the time and location of our meeting.

  “Are you finished with your breakfast yet, Linc?” I called behind me.

  “Uh-uh,” Lincoln confirmed in a mumble with a mouthful of eggs.

  “Well, let me know when you are and we’ll get ready to go see Nana and Papa.”

  “Okay!” came his cheerful response as I headed toward the bathroom to shower and get ready.

  Once we were both dressed and I’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up some supplies for the outing, Lincoln and I were ready and raring to go out for the day. I had two big bags full of snack food including brownies which were my mom’s favorite and some chips that Lincoln liked. Instead of driving to my parents’ house, the two of us enjoyed the walk. After all, we didn’t live far away from them. Both of our houses were on the outskirts of the vineyard and it only took twenty minutes or so to reach my parents’ house.

  Rays of sunlight erupted across the sky, only being cut off by the fluffy white clouds which hung high in the baby blue sky above us. Verdant green vines were hanging to our right while we walked along the dirt path road which led to every building on Wendall Winery property. Lincoln held my hand for some of the walk, but for the majority of it, he sped off ahead of me to inspect different things he found along the way like a rock on the floor or a bug climbing the fence.

  Because of my son’s unquenchable desire to learn about the world, it took us almost double the time to reach my parents’ house, but I didn’t mind. I enjoyed watching Lincoln having fun and I wouldn’t have hurried him for the world.

  “Are those my two handsome boys?” my mother, Miriam Wendall, called out from the porch as soon as she spotted us walking toward the house. Her face was framed by long, flowing gray hair and her green eyes which matched my own followed our every movement. She was wearing a pair of denim jeans and a baggy yellow t-shirt which looked really comfortable.

  “Nana!” Lincoln cried and began running at full force toward the elderly woman. She caught him with an ‘oomph’ and lifted him up to cuddle him close.

  “My, my, Linc, you have grown so much! One of these days, you’re going to be too heavy for me to carry!” she remarked.

  “He’s already too big to be carried,” I told her as I caught up. “Linc insists he’s a big boy now.”

  “Is that so?”

  Lincoln nodded.

  “Well, I suppose I’d better put you down them!” My mother placed Lincoln back on his feet on the porch before smiling over at me and enveloping me in her arms. “It’s nice to see you, Quentin. You should come visit more often.”

  “Ma, you know how busy the vineyard gets better than anyone,” I replied with a scoff.

  “I know, I know, I just worry about you.” She drew back and looked me over. “But you’re looking healthy. Have you started dating anyone yet?”

  “Ma!” I cried indignantly.

  “All right, all right, I know it’s none of my business. Okay then, let’s go find your father. He’s been sunbathing out by the pond all morning.”

  It was only a short walk down the hill to the pond where our usual picnic spot was and sure enough, my father was laying down on a blanket by the pond, soaking up the warm sun’s rays. He was going to be disturbed soon enough, however, as Lincoln began running toward him as soon as he saw him.

  “Incoming!” I called with a smile on my face just moments before Lincoln jumped on top of my father’s chest.

  All four of us laughed as Lincoln excitedly bounced up and down. My father sat up and grinned over at his grandson before rubbing the top of his head where hardly any hair had survived. His brown eyes crinkled as he looked at Lincoln fondly and hugged him close. My mother laid out the food on the blanket once my father moved out of the way and all of us happily tucked into it.

  “Did you boys make these brownies? They’re delicious,” my mom said as she took another big bite from one.

  “Daddy got them at the store!” Lincoln declared.

  I laughed. “You know I’m not much of a baker, Mom.”

  “There’s always time,” she remarked.

  As time went on, Lincoln and my dad ended up enjoying kicking a ball around the field together. They were chasing each other and my dad was teasing him repeatedly. The sight of it warmed my heart and for the first time that day, I’d begun to regain my confidence that Lincoln was being raised well and in a good environment. He didn’t need a mother to grow up well-adjusted. There was no reason for me to even think about dating again. I certainly didn’t need to date, say, an employee…

  “So, how’s Billie settling in?”

  The question startled me and I looked over at my mother with wide eyes wondering if she could read my mind. “Uh, she’s fine,” I answered, feeling a little uneasy. “You know, she’s doing her job.” I shrugged.

  My mother narrowed her eyes at me. “Is that all?”

  I sighed. “Well, she is a good choice for the role, I’ll give you that,” I continued. “From what I’ve heard from Peter, she’s been doing a good job of cleaning up the mess Albert left when he retired and she’s already figured out a way to streamline the system.”

  My mother nodded and let out a ‘hmm’. “Sounds like she’s a perfect fit then.”

  In more ways than one, I said to myself before desperately trying to push all thoughts of Billie to the back of my mind.

  9

  Billie

  “Wow, Billie! I know you said we were going to be doing a tour, but I thought it’d end up being a total snooze fest! But this… This place is beautiful!” Carla exclaimed excitedly as we entered the main gates of the office parking lot.

  I laughed and parked the car before stepping out. Carla wasn’t far behind me and I took a nice, deep breath of the fresh air surrounding me. It was a hot day and the sun was hanging high up in the sky above us. I used my hand as a visor to shield my eyes from the sun as I looked around to see if many other people were taking the tour, however, there were only a few cars parked near ours.

  “Next time, you should be clearer when you tell me we’re going to your office, Billie,” Carla continued as she came to stand next to me. “I would have worn my nice
dress…”

  I smiled over at her as we walked up the dirt part toward the main building. “You look fine, Carla, and I never said it was a tour of my office,” I clarified. “I said it was a tour of my workplace. There’s a difference. Besides, how would a tour of a vineyard be boring?” I asked her. “It’s literally a tour involving wine.”

  Carla giggled. “Well, you’ve got me there, but I don’t know. I guess, I just expected it to be a dusty old basement somewhere. Not this!” She paused to gesture her arm out toward the abundant fields and the action caused her bright yellow sundress’ strap to slip down her tanned shoulder a little. “I thought they’d be showing us all the boring parts like the machines they use to make the wine. I didn’t imagine the fields would look as pretty as this! Or that there would be fields at all. Everything is artificially manufactured these days.”

  “You thought we were making artificial wine?” I questioned, laughing at the idea of it. Carla did always have a strange way of thinking.

  “Well, I don’t know! Like I said, you never know. I was watching a documentary the other day about lab-made meat and—”

  “Oh God, Carla, you need to stop watching those documentaries,” I told her with a laugh. “They’re making you paranoid.”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Besides, we should be enjoying this wonderful view instead of talking about my sad little life!”

  Carla waved her arms out in front of her, indicating the fields and my eyes followed them. Rows upon rows of tall vines were being propped up by wooden fencing and they bore round, juicy red grapes amongst their emerald leaves. The sunlight was spilling over the fields and illuminating the plants beautifully. They looked almost as if they were shining.

  “Well, you’re in luck then because Peter told me we’ll be having a little wander inside the fields during the tour,” I explained with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

 

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