Dating the Boss

by Kate Swain

  Tanya confronting me about my attraction worried me. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself, but I was attracted to him.

  He seemed interested in some ways, but in others, not at all.

  I felt my cheeks heat up as I thought about how it felt when I realized he was listening to my conversation with his brother.

  “So?” Tanya asked. “You have an early start tomorrow with Mr. Manners?”

  Laughing, I took a sip of my drink. “A good name! I do. Seven a.m.” I made a face. Tanya knew I was no early riser.

  “Whew!” She whistled. “Why so early?”

  I shrugged. “I guess the mechanics start work then. Probably the best time for people to get minor repairs done and drop their bikes off so they can still get to work on time.”

  “Yeah.” Tanya made a face. “But still. Seven a.m.? I’ll never complain about my own job again. At least it’s a nine-to-five job.”

  I grinned. “It’s not so bad. Without the boss, I’d be smiling.”

  Tanya looked at me oddly. I felt uncomfortable. She tilted her head to one side and gave me a penetrating look. “You like him,” she said.

  I stared. “No,” I said firmly. “I don’t.”

  I was blushing, though, and I knew I was caught. She was right. I didn’t want her to be. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself. But she was right. I liked him.

  “Fine,” she shrugged. “I can’t be right all the time. Even if I want to, eh?”

  I chuckled. “These are good,” I added, changing the subject.

  “Thanks!” Tanya sounded pleased. “I got the recipe off this lady’s blog. She lives on the California coast and makes these every other day. I had to substitute the lime leaves with a few drops of lime juice… I couldn’t find lime leaves at the store on the corner.” She grinned.

  I chuckled. “I guess not. Can’t say I’ve ever seen any lime leaves in any store around here. But the lime juice worked really well,” I added appreciatively, taking another bite. One of the real advantages of living with Tanya was that she was an amazing cook.

  “Thanks, Amelia,” she said sincerely. “And well done on your job! If I’d known, we could have gone out to celebrate.”

  I just grinned. “I didn’t do it on my own. Tex helped me,” I repeated.

  She grinned. “Well… he’s coming around later. I’ll make sure he knows you appreciate it.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure.”

  She looked at me with a naughty smile, and I had to giggle. Tanya was one of those people with whom it was impossible to be angry, even for a second. She really was a great friend. At that moment, somebody rang the bell.

  “That’ll be him.”

  “Have fun,” I said, pushing back my chair as she ran to get the door. I started taking our dinnerware back to the kitchen. She cooked, and I washed up. On the rare nights that I cooked, she would do the washing up. It was a pattern that suited us.

  As I started washing the plates, Tex appeared. I grinned at him.

  “Hi!” I said shyly. “Thanks for your help.”

  He looked shy too. “It was nothing,” he said gruffly.

  “Come on, gorgeous… don’t just stand in the kitchen,” Tanya murmured. She took his hand and led him to her bed.

  I grinned to myself as the door shut. I started washing the frying pan—the sound of the scouring on the metal surface thankfully drowned out the noises.

  When the dishes were finished, and I was on the couch, my earphones in, dance music flooding my brain, I let myself think about Tanya’s words. Was she right that I was interested in Carter?

  I shook my head. I thought he was arrogant. I thought he was rude. I thought that he wasn’t interested in anyone—apart from himself, of course. I thought he was the least considerate person I had ever seen—talking about my looks when I was right in front of him, dismissing me and my qualifications… none of those behaviors suggested he was anything other than impossibly ill-mannered.

  I recalled him stopping to take me home.

  Even then, he was rude, I thought with annoyance. Telling me I shouldn’t be walking after dark—who does he think he is? I’m a grown woman.

  I couldn’t quite make that accusation of rudeness stick, though. He hadn’t done it in a condescending way. He’d been worried. And he did have a point about the dangers of a woman walking solo at night in that area. The industrial zone—that part of it, anyway—was safe enough by daylight, but I could have gotten myself in trouble at night.

  He really did help me. And he was kind, despite my moments of sassiness.

  I shut my eyes, feeling confused and more than a little annoyed. I didn’t want to like him, but the more I tried not to, the worse my feelings for him got.

  His big hands. His broad shoulders. His gorgeous eyes.

  I shook myself with annoyance as I felt my body shiver with a sort of intrigue. I really did like him. And thinking of him spying on me made me feel good. I wondered what he’d overheard me say.

  Maybe he thought I was crazy. Or weird. He knew I didn’t like riding bikes, but I liked the noise. He knew I randomly answered telephones. And walked alone.

  I leaned back on the couch, trying to convince myself that there was nothing between us. No spark of interest. No mutual attraction. He wasn’t looking at me with a spark in his eyes. I didn’t light up when he came close.

  None of that was true.

  I knew, though, that I was fooling myself. I responded to him more than I would like. Thinking of confronting him was as exciting as a football match or my favorite show. Thinking of talking to him made me smile. I liked him. Tanya was perceptive like I had always known she was. And she’d made me notice the thing that I was trying to hide.

  Asshole or not, I was attracted to Carter.

  I sighed as the song ended, and I had to choose some more music. I looked at the time, seeing that it was only nine-thirty. I considered taking a walk but realized I was too tired to stand up. It was getting late for a walk around the block, even in my neighborhood.

  And then I remembered. Shit, work started the next day at seven a.m. I set my phone alarm and took out my earphones and lay down on the couch.

  I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep. As my thoughts separated and started to drift, I realized that my mind was returning again to Carter and that I was actually looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

  7

  Carter

  I drove to work at six-thirty, hoping to avoid the morning traffic. As it happened, the streets were almost empty, the cement shining from the night-time rain. I felt my spirits lift despite my confusing feelings about Amelia. I let my brain drift but was surprised to find my thoughts already returning to her.

  “Damn it.”

  I felt mad at myself. I had hoped that my experience the other night under the shower would have gotten her out of my system. As it was, it seemed to make things worse.

  She isn’t your type, so you might as well get your mind off this and onto another train of thought.

  The light changed to red and I came to a stop. I shut my eyes, feeling irritable. I was going to think about what I needed to accomplish today. I realized that I didn’t know what was in the schedule and that I would have to ask her. I shook my head.

  “She probably isn’t even there yet.”

  I told myself that she was going to be late. She’d probably only get here by eight o’clock, in which case I could give her a written warning. I knew I was being mean, but I was getting annoyed at the whole situation. I was almost forty, and I had a job to do. I absolutely shouldn’t be spending my time fixated on some woman.

  “See?” I said to myself. “The light’s off in the office.”

  I looked at my watch. It was seven a.m. exactly.

  I got out of my car and strode across the parking bays, heading straight to the shop. As I did, I walked past a little Golf, the license plate on the front slightly skew. I frowned. I hadn’t seen it here before. The bumper on the
right was dented, though somebody put a splash of paint over it in an attempt to hide the scratch. There was a scratch in the paintwork on the driver’s side. I wondered whose car it was and if I should have it towed. I went in, frowning about the car in my parking lot.

  “Maybe Adam drove it to work today.”

  “Boss!” Mark called. “You’re here. We’re getting started.”

  “What’s in the schedule?” I said with little enthusiasm, taking off my coat. The guys looked busy already. Matthew was in the corner with the compressor, getting paint ready for the day’s jobs.

  “I don’t know,” Adam said, pulling on some work gloves. “Go ask Amelia.”

  “What?” I frowned, feeling my brow lower with confusion.

  “Amelia,” Matthew reminded me gently. “The new receptionist? She’s already organized our schedule.” He grinned.

  “She’s already here?” I frowned more deeply.

  “Yeah! She was here when we arrived!” Mark grinned. “She’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah,” Adam agreed, nodding his head fervently.

  “Fine,” I tried not to look surprised. “I’ll go ask her.”

  Sweat ran down my spine, for some reason I couldn’t and didn’t want to understand. I walked to the office. I poked my head inside before approaching the desk.

  “Amelia?” I greeted.

  “Hi.” She looked up from behind the desk. She was wearing lipstick, and her hair was washed and loose in wisps about her face. I caught a whiff of strawberry shampoo when I walked in.

  My loins stirred. I shut my eyes for a moment, willing myself to calm down.

  “You’re here early,” I said.

  She raised a brow like I was talking rubbish to her. “You said we start at seven o’clock,” she reminded me swiftly.

  “Yeah,” I muttered, irritated. “I did.”

  “So I got here,” she said, annoyed. “And a guy called already. He wanted to know if you could look at a BMW road bike today. He’s in a hurry.”

  “What time?” I asked, already glad to be talking about a subject I knew something about. My mind was running through the one or two jobs I thought we had for today, one of which was taking the scrap-iron to the recycler.

  “Can you squeeze it in before lunch?” she asked. “There are only two repair-jobs for the morning.”

  “Did he have any idea what was wrong with his bike?” I asked, pulling out a plastic chair and sitting down opposite her. I could feel her knees close to mine. I tensed and sat straight. Any accidental contact was dangerous.

  “He said the motor was knocking,” she said immediately. “So I assumed that it’s the timing-chain.”

  I stared at her. How the hell did she know? I tried to look unsurprised. “Maybe,” I said. Playing it cool. On the one hand, I was impressed. On the other hand, I felt annoyed. Again. I wanted to impress her, not the other way around!

  “I think the repairs shouldn’t take more than an hour,” she guessed. “So, I reckon you can at least look at it by midday?”

  “Maybe,” I said again, feeling frustrated. “I’ll call him later.”

  “Fine.” She shot me a look.

  “Thanks,” I muttered as she handed me his name and number. She didn’t look at me. I felt offended. Why was she acting so cold?

  “I’ll add him to the schedule when you find out what time he’s bringing the bike in,” she said. Her face had gone from marginally surprised to completely expressionless in two minutes.

  “Okay.” I nodded and, gripping the notepad from the phone desk, headed to my office—which was, for some diabolical reason best known to whoever first built the workshop, next to hers.

  Shutting my office door, I grabbed my coffee cup and placed it under the small coffee-machine that lived on the table in the corner by the window. I made a double espresso. Then, I sat down and opened my laptop. I had to order some parts online, I remembered, for my brother, who was repairing the old Harley. While I scrolled down the inventory list, someone knocked at my door.

  “Hello?” I called. My voice was hard, probably because I thought it might be Amelia.

  “Hell, Carter,” Adam said, sounding surprised. “You sound angry.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, draining the remains of my double-espresso. “Is something happening?”

  “You could say that,” Adam grinned. “We’re just finishing the paint job. You should come see.”

  “I want to,” I nodded. “Is Mark around?” I asked. “I need to ask him something.”

  “He’s there.” Adam grinned. “If we’re lucky, Matthew hasn’t sprayed him with paint. He was teasing him mercilessly, and I think he’s itching to get him back.”

  I laughed. “I can imagine. Let me come and see.”

  “Great stuff,” Adam laughed. “If you can stop the Paint Wars…”

  I was still smiling when I went into the shop. Despite Adam’s depiction of the brotherly battle, there was no fighting—either with paint or any other weapon-of-choice. Matthew was dressed in paint-spattered overalls, the paint gun still delivering paint in a fine haze all over the bike. Mark had a rag covered in polish in one hand and was busy cleaning another motorcycle. He saw me and grinned.

  “Have a look! The new paint job is nearly finished.”

  “Whew.” I whistled through my teeth. Matthew had stopped painting and was busy removing the tape that had protected some of the details. I stared at the results.

  Black and shiny, the Harley was a thing of beauty. The guys had done a really nice custom job. Our customer was going to be really happy. The work was even more stunning than I’d envisioned.

  “Well done, guys,” I whispered.

  Matthew grinned. “It’s not finished yet,” he reminded. “We still need that special order chrome screw Mark ordered.”

  “I did not order a screw,” Mark said, grinning as he said the word, emphasizing it to give full attention to the lewd double meaning.

  I laughed. “You two. Do you ever stop?” I grinned at my twin brothers.

  “Yeah,” Mark said. “When we’re concentrating on custom paint jobs.” He dropped the cloth on the workbench and slid the wrench back into place in the toolkit, shutting the lid firmly.

  “Sometimes not even then,” Matthew pointed out, blowing out the end of the spray gun with paint thinner, to prevent the paint from blocking up the tiny holes. “Besides, we don’t get focused all that often. It’s easier now, though.”

  “What’s easier?” I frowned.

  “Well, everything,” Mark pointed out.

  I looked at them, genuinely confused. Matthew laughed.

  “Carter… we used to not know what day it was here, never mind what was on the schedule! Now, we have everything filed and neat, and the phone gets answered. Amelia has been a huge help around here.”

  I felt oddly resentful. “We weren’t doing that badly before.”

  “Nobody said we were,” Mark pointed out, giving me an odd look. “We just said it’s easier now.”

  A strange silence pervaded the workshop. I had the uncomfortable feeling that everybody was on her side; I felt like an outsider in my own company. I looked around and noticed that Adam was furiously focused on packing the tools away. Matthew was cleaning the spray gun with renewed interest. Mark shot me a funny look, then started packing tools away with unnecessary concentration.

  I felt pushed aside.

  “I didn’t say anything against her,” I pointed out. “I just said that we weren’t failing before.”

  “Nobody said we were failing,” Matthew said gently. “I just meant that I like working here more now that I understand what tasks I’m supposed to do every day. It is also nice to know that things are organized a bit better.”

  “We feel better,” Mark confirmed. “And you have to admit, she really has made everything shipshape.”

  “Yeah,” Matthew agreed. “And tidy.”

  “Yeah! Look at the desk in there,” Adam said, pointing his head toward
the office.

  “It’s a model of efficiency,” Matthew agreed, smiling.

  “I heard her on the phone earlier,” Adam contributed. “She’s a real natural.”

  I shut my eyes as enthusiastic agreement followed. Everyone, it seems, was in love with the new receptionist, at least as far as her abilities as a receptionist went. I, however, wasn’t convinced. She was doing great work, for sure. But I didn’t like having her here. She got on my nerves, precisely because my nerves were sensitive to her. Everything about her put me on the edge of my seat with longing. And I didn’t like the feeling of being betrayed by my own body.

  “Fine,” I said sullenly. “We’d better finish up the few remaining tasks for the Harley. It’s half an hour until lunch.”

  “Lunch! Hooray!” Adam enthused.

  “Can we have pizza?” Matthew asked.

  “Yes. We’ve just about finished this custom build. We just have to remove the tape and install the few remaining chrome pieces, and we will be done. We always celebrate by having pizza for lunch,” Mark corroborated.

  “I want Four Cheeses,” Adam chimed in, without thinking for a moment that we weren’t going to have pizza for lunch.

  “Yeah!” Mark agreed.

  I sighed. “I’ll go and sort it out.”

  I hurried to my office, getting the menu for the local pizza restaurant out of my desk. It was the way we celebrated all good work here in the workshop. I would be paying, too. As the boss, it was an obligation, but I also liked rewarding my brothers for a job well done.

  Casting my eye down the menu, I took it to the shop.

  “Right,” I said, walking to the reception desk after five minutes with the boys. “Can you do something for me?”

  “Sure,” Amelia said in a frosty-cool voice. I wasn’t looking at her directly, but I could imagine her cold expression on her face. I could smell her strawberry shampooed hair. I wished I could be more friendly, but changing my demeanor around her would lead to me losing my mind and getting excited. I didn’t want to risk looking at her. I barely wanted to risk speaking to her.