"She's fine," I told her, my hands traveling the expanse of her stomach, telling my baby, "It's okay, little girl. Calm down. Your mommy and daddy are here."
"I think she wants you to sing to her," Carolina said with a smile.
Singing to a baby, or at all, isn't something I'd ever done. But I was doing a lot of things with Carolina, and now our baby, that I hadn't ever done before. So why not that?
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star," I started singing to the baby. "How I wonder what you are."
As I continued, Carolina lay her head on my chest and looked down as I rubbed her belly and sang to our baby. The baby stopped kicking, and I went back to kissing Carolina.
When we got home, she'd remembered what I'd done to help quiet our baby during the storm. If the baby ever started kicking a lot again and seemed distressed, she'd let me know and I'd start signing to her, no matter where I had been or what else I had been doing.
If I was at the office or we were otherwise apart, Carolina would put the phone up to her stomach, and I would sign to the baby that way. Otherwise, we'd go into the nursery and dance a little to the tune of the mobile. Our bodies would sway back and forth as the mobile turned, and I'd sing lullabies to both my girls, letting them know that everything would be okay.
I bet no one expected an asshole player like me to settle down to the point where I would be singing like that. I wouldn't have believed it myself, had someone told me previously. But, as Carolina says, life has a funny way of changing plans on you right when you least expect it.
I can't say I mind this change in plans one bit. It wasn't expected, but I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. Not my sweet, sexy Carolina. Not our beautiful little girl. But I'll let Carolina tell you about her, because Carolina is the happiest, proudest mother I've ever seen.
Carolina
A few months later, Garrett and I brought Calliope Grace Mack into the world. She weighed in at a tiny six pounds, four ounces, and she was perfect. She even had Garrett’s little dimple on her chin. Once she was old enough to travel, Garrett and I married at the church in the town where it had all started for me.
Martha Grecco catered it, and Erin was my maid of honor.
“I told you you were in for new beginnings,” Martha said, nipping Calliope’s cheeks as she kissed my own. “I’m so happy and excited for you, Cari.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve always done for me, Martha,” I told her, hugging her second in the receiving line, after only my own parents.
Madilyn, Katie and Ruby were my bridesmaids. (Claude stood up on Garrett’s side as a groomsman, along with my friends’ husbands.) Madilyn’s and Ruby’s children, who served along with Calliope as our pint sized ring bearers and flower girl, were pulled in a tiny wheelbarrow by Garrett’s cousin’s ten-year-old child. It was the cutest sight you’d ever seen.
Garrett's brother Bob came from Albuquerque to be his best man, and even though his mom didn't come— both of them said it was better off if she didn't— I think I've slowly helped them mend fences, to heal some of the hurt that was keeping Garrett back from being the best person he can be.
She did send a card from her new assisted living home, which Garrett smiled about before tossing into the trash. Hey, it's a start, and everything should start somewhere.
I’m glad that the law firm is going well and glad I don’t have to worry about him being a player anymore. It’s clear as day for everyone including me to see that he is more than a little smitten with only two women now— me and our daughter.
I’ve decided to go to law school. Ensconced in studying for the LSAT exams, it is all happening for me, even while nursing little Calliope. And I love it. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world, even though I hadn't planned for things to turn out this way.
As a young girl, I had always envisioned my life with Jake, our perfect town, and our perfect two kids. It didn’t turn out that way, however. A divorce, a move from my beloved home town to the big city… Nothing had turned out the way I’d planned, not even the perfect job or the perfectly harmless office romance.
Truly, I didn’t even have my child the way I’d planned. She was born via emergency C-section. I wasn't proposed to like I’d always dreamed. Nothing, nothing had gone exactly as planned. Life didn’t turn out as I had always visualized. Life happened on my terms, however, and I’d have it no other way.
I’m glad Jake and I didn’t work out, or else I’d never have Calliope— or Garrett. I never even would have gotten the job I enjoy. (I’m back working with Garrett again, and I love working with my friends at the firm. But I still help Karen out in a pinch, and I’m grateful for all she did for me).
I would have stayed an insecure shell of a person instead of branching out— with Garrett’s help, and Erin’s too, although she would laugh at me for telling her that— to become the woman I am today.
They say never mix business with pleasure. I was always warned by those women who had come before me, “When it comes to romance at the office, stay clear of it. It can only turn out badly.”
Except for Madilyn, Ruby and Katie. They knew that love can be found anywhere, even at the office.
And as for everyone else’s advice to steer clear of love at work, well, that may be true. I'm sure I'll be giving the same advice to my own daughter one day, and I'm sure she'll rightfully turn around and say, “Mom, no offense, but you're a huge hypocrite. What about you and Dad?”
Still, it's sound advice and worth doling out, even if some people— including myself— don't always listen to it, but Calliope wouldn't have been here if I had.
She just had a feeding with her amazing dad. I’m on my way to take the LSAT exam, and next week we close on a new house. We.
I have a beautiful family, an amazing sex life, and the most beautiful baby girl. Could it have been more perfect? Yes. But then it wouldn’t have been just like it is right now.
An unorthodox office romance led me right to where I am today. The perfect imperfection of that serendipity is not to be analyzed.
Besides, I gave up the internal long ago, the day I married Garrett Mack. Now, I just relax and enjoy life on its own terms. It’s a whole lot better that way than when I overanalyzed everything inside my head.
And Garrett makes it easy, with his amazing physique, his great bedroom skills, and his kind words and actions. I had wanted to tame the playboy boss, and that’s exactly what I did.
And even though it took an accidental pregnancy to get us here, I believe we were meant to be together. Thank goodness I had taken the job at Marks, Sanchez, Reed and Mack, or else my fate never would have changed for the better, and I wouldn’t be married to my boss, with whom I’ve found a very happy ever after.
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Take Me, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance
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Chapter 1
Erin
Today is my first day. Of my first job. Ever. Oh, boy…
Due to an overabundance of nerves, I wake up an hour ahead of schedule. I can’t get back to sleep, so I take my morning run earlier than usual. I suppose I should call it jogging more than running. Or perhaps it’s more like plodding.
Whatever it is, I enjoy getting out and doing it. It clears my head and helps me not feel so damn fat. People say you can be big and healthy, but I always aim to prove it.
While running, I begin to think about how I’ll do on my first day. I know I’m more than capable. I’m not an idiot– I mean, I haven’t done anything too idiotic so far, but the more I think about it, the more I worry.
My parents never wanted me to have a job. At least not one other than what I used to do for our church (and th
at was more volunteer work, although now and then I was paid something for it).
But now that I’ve graduated high school and haven’t had anything to keep me busy for the past six months, they’ve realized I need to start doing some things on my own if they want me to succeed. And I told them I can’t keep working for free.
They never wanted me to have a boyfriend, either. I’ve never even had sex, sadly. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to— I’ve just never had the opportunity.
I start to feel turned on when thinking about sex. Darn it. This always happens.
I stop and take a minute to rest, reminding myself not to have lustful thoughts, since they’re a sin. When I check my watch, I realize it’s time to head home and shower. I was so distracted I almost stayed on the road too long.
I head home and then jump into the shower. Once I’m naked with warm water running over me, I can’t help but let my thoughts return to the fact that I’ve never had sex before. Lately, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.
I’m afraid my lustful thoughts might take over my brain on my first day of work. So, I decide to do something about them, to get them out of my system before then. Lustful thoughts might be a sin, but if I don’t do something about them I’ll be sinning all day at work.
I reach down and feel the wetness between the lips of my pussy, which seems to be begging to be taken by someone, anyone. But my parents and pastor say no sex before marriage. And, even if the opportunity presented itself, I doubt I would find that the guy would be good enough to give my virginity to.
As much as I wish I could have sex, it seems like a sacred experience I don’t want to have with just anyone. So instead, I just imagine it.
I begin to rub my clit, thinking about various movie stars, all of whom happen to be older than me. I can’t seem to help but think older guys are sexy, and I don’t even know why. Probably because it means they’d be experienced, and for all my lack of experience, I could really use an experienced guy.
I feel my own juices run out of my pussy and into my hand as I continue rubbing my clit. The motion gives me pleasure, and I moan slightly as I think about an actual cock going inside me. I bet it would feel so good.
Soon I’m feeling a rush of pleasure all over me, and I’m coming, thinking about a mysterious older man who could pick me up and swing me over his shoulder and throw me down on a bed. That would be no easy feat, since I’m overweight. But I want a strong man who could do just that, and then fuck me even better than I can play with myself.
When I’m done coming, I pause for a second to catch my breath. My head is spinning and my spine is tingling from the sensation still. But I have to hurry up and get out and get ready, both because I don’t want to be late for my first time of work, and also because I don’t want my mom to get suspicious. She’s told me it’s a “super sin” to pleasure myself, but I really don’t see how it harms anyone.
I grab a banana from the kitchen counter, which my mom keeps nice and tidy, and run out the door.
“Bye, Mom!” I shout, on my way out.
“Bye, Erin. Have a good day.”
That’s nice of her to say, since she never wanted me to get this job in the first place. I smile as I dash out the door. My mom might be overly strict and religious, but at least she wants the best for me. I try to remember that when I feel she smothers me. Some people have it way worse.
Once I’m in my car, I silently send signals to the other vehicles on the road to drive faster so I’m not late. My little fantasy session sure cut into my available time to get to work. Oops. And the sad thing is that I’ll probably still be horny at work, because that’s all I seem to be all the time now, despite trying to take care of it.
I tap the steering wheel impatiently as I have to wait at a red light. But soon I see the large building where the law firm I’m going to work is in, up ahead, in the near distance.
Thank goodness I drove the route to work the other day, so I don’t get lost. My dad, who has worked for the government for twenty years and is a calm and collected type of guy, gave me that tip as a way to make sure nothing goes wrong on my first day. He wants the best for me too, even though in many ways he’s just as strict as my mom, and was just as disapproving at first of me getting a job in the real world.
As I pull into the large parking garage, I look at the clock in my car and realize I’ve made it just in time.
Whew.
I hope my first day of work goes off half as well as my shower session did.
Chapter 2
Erin
The building that the law firm of Marks, Sanchez, Reed and Mack is in is quite fancy. I take the elevator all the way up to the sixteenth floor. As soon as I step out into the lobby of the office, I see a receptionist desk with my name on it. Erin Richardson. This place is on the ball.
I walk behind the desk and see that there’s a raised stool with a monitor in front of it. I also notice that another receptionist— a guy— is already at a different receptionist’s desk a bit off to the side, hard at work. He’s on the phone, and is mumbling, “Yes, Sir, I can do that.” Obviously, he can’t introduce himself to me just yet, although he gives me a friendly nod before looking back down at notes he’s taking in front of him.
I stab at the button on the computer in front of me, to turn it on. It’s password protected and I have no idea what it is. How am I to know what I’m supposed to be doing? It’s my very first day. Was there a memo? Did I miss it? But how would I have missed it when I don’t know where they would send it to? I don’t even have an email address at this firm yet.
Just in the nick of time, before I have a complete internal meltdown, the guy at the desk next to me hangs up the phone and then walks over to me, with his hand outstretched.
“You must be Erin,” he says, a large smile spreading across his entire face. He’s a hot one, that’s for sure—but I’m pretty sure he’s gay. “I’m Claude. And it was so terribly rude of me to not introduce myself when you first came in. Unfortunately, I was otherwise indisposed.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Claude.”
I shake his hand while he nods his head in the direction of lawyers’ offices down the hallway behind the reception area.
“I was wrapped up trying to do some things for Garrett Mack,” he says. “He’s one demanding mofo.”
I laugh, my hand covering my mouth. I’m always embarrassed by my crooked teeth, as well as my rather large frame. It’s why I run every single morning, but, due to having PCOS, it is really hard for me to lose weight.
“They won’t tell you this, but the whole reason you’re here is because the other partners merged with Garrett as a new partner, and he’s so demanding he insisted on having a new receptionist to help out. Apparently he didn’t think I was up to the job.”
He sniffs, tilting his nose into the air, and I laugh again.
“I’m sure you do a great job,” I tell him. “They probably just need more help now that there’s a new named partner.”
“Girl,” he says, shaking his head and wagging his finger, confirming my suspicions that he’s gay. “That’s what they say. But I’ve been here for years and you’d think they’d trust me to be able to answer the phones for one more lawyer.”
I gulp, hoping that he doesn’t hate me because I’ve been hired to essentially help him out. I run my hand along the back of my neck, where hives often break out when I’m anxious. I can already feel some prickly bumps.
But now it’s Claude’s turn to laugh.
“I’m happy to have my work divided up,” he says. “I was killing myself trying to take care of a bunch of drama-prone lawyers up in here.”
We both laugh and then he says, “Have a seat. I’ll show you how to boot up this fancy contraption known as Reception Area Computer Number 2.”
Then he sees my screen and says, “Well, I see you’ve already figured out how to turn it on. Quick study.”
I chuckle and say, “Yeah but that’s as far as I got,
since I have no idea what the password would be.”
“Take a wild guess,” he says, rolling his eyes and nodding his head as if to tell me it’s way too easy.
“Is it ‘lawfirm’?” I give it a shot in the dark.
“Nope,” he says, laughing heartily now. “Something even easier.”
“Don’t tell me it’s ‘password,’” I tell him.
“Bingo,” he says. “Can you believe it? I keep telling these idiots they’re going to get hacked, but no one wants to listen to their favorite gay receptionist.”
As soon as I’m into the computer, I can see a startling array of programs and files that I have no idea how to use.
“Don’t worry,” Claude says reassuringly. “Mostly you just have to answer the phone and take messages. Some of these lawyers with big heads might ask you to type up dictation or send discovery, but you are free to tell them it’s beyond your job description and that they should ask their legal assistant. In which case, they’ll probably just come bother me next, since if their legal assistant weren’t too busy to do it, they never would have been slumming their way to asking a lowly receptionist.”
I can’t help but laugh again. Usually I’m standoffish when I meet people because I feel shy and different. I’m half black, with unruly hair unusual for Albuquerque. There’s a big Hispanic population here but people like me are outnumbered. I feel I fit right in with Claude, though, and I bet he considers himself to be a social outcast, just like me.
I have a feeling I’m going to like working here. Suddenly, a larger woman walks up from God knows where and asks, “Erin Richardson?” while looking down at a sheet of paper.
“Present,” I say automatically, and then Claude and I burst out laughing.
What do I think this is? The first day of the first grade, with roll call being taken?
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