His Temporary Assistant: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy (Kensington Square Book 1)

by Taryn Quinn

  “Franklin. Well, soon to be Platt. I’m divorcing that dirty cheat. Do you know he gave her my brownies? I teach elementary school, and I stayed up after grading papers to make them for his lunch. I hope she enjoyed them, the hussy.” She dashed at her tears while I tried to read the sudden slew of messages flashing on Ryan’s phone screen.

  Lu: OMG, he’s kissing you. Or…licking you?

  Lu: Fuck, that’s hot.

  Lu: He’s hot.

  And then something about a big dick, which could either be about me or the yoga teacher, but no matter how I stabbed the phone, I did not have Ryan’s face. Also, my dick was not visible in that picture.

  Was it?

  “How low did you aim that selfie?” I demanded.

  Both Stacey and Ryan glared at me.

  “Never mind.”

  “He didn’t deserve your brownies,” Ryan said soothingly, rubbing Stacey’s back while she sobbed.

  I set down Ryan’s phone and decided I’d assume I was the well-endowed one Luna was referencing. Ryan’s commentary had indicated such.

  The extent of their conversation I probably didn’t want to know.

  My own phone vibrated in my pocket. I dug it out and saw an unknown number with an interesting text.

  Unknown: What happened to no cookies in the office?

  I frowned.

  PMS: Excuse me?

  Unknown: Don’t play dum. Are you conning her? She has a legion of spirit sisters behind her.

  I looked up just as Stacey burst into a round of fresh sobs while Ryan poured water into a paper cup. “He told me he was taking me to Bimini for our anniversary. I found the tickets. Then I realized he was planning to take her.”

  I needed to usher Stacey into the conference room if I had any hope of getting out of here anytime soon. And I had to, due to my followup appointment from yesterday’s impulsive move. Whatever happened, it had to make more sense than the chaos my life had recently become.

  Forget sex hex. A life hex might be more accurate.

  Another text appeared.

  Unknown: I realize you’ve been in a drought—or is that a lie too?

  Finally, the mad texter had revealed herself. La-la-Luna. It had to be.

  I quickly responded.

  PMS: What do you mean too, as if there is more than one lie? You don’t know that I’ve lied. How did you get this number?

  Unknown: How do you think I got it? I borrowed Ryan’s phone when she was drunk dozing.

  My frown deepened. When had Ryan been drunk? Obviously, in the recent past, since she’d only had my number for a matter of days.

  I quickly added her to my contacts and tapped out an irritated response.

  PMS: And you accuse me of lying when you are a thief?

  Luna: Hello, I am her best friend. All her stuff is mine & vice versa.

  PMS: Thank you for educating me. Now if you’ll excuse me from this inane conversation, I have work to do.

  My client was now dramatically reclining on the sofa while Ryan slid a pillow under her head and cooed softly to her. I didn’t know how we could possibly have a meeting while she was prone. This was not a therapist’s couch. I didn’t deal with people who weren’t upright for the conversation.

  But thank God Ryan was here. She was handling all…that. I’d had a few crying clients in the past—and screaming, swearing, and occasionally physically violent ones, though usually at their soon-to-be ex-spouse, not me. But Stacey Franklin seemed particularly full of woe.

  “It was just yesterday that he told me about Bimini. I was so excited. Then I came to pick him up after work because his car was in the shop, and his penis was in her mouth!”

  I shut my eyes. Was it too late for me to consider a new career? Right now, anything sounded good.

  And la-la-Luna was still texting.

  Luna: You know what’s inane? Claiming to be so righteous then dropping drawers in like, a sec.

  She had a point, even if I’d not claimed righteousness nor stripped down. But I could agree my message had been inconsistent with my behavior. I didn’t accept all the blame, however. Some could be laid at the green-tipped toes of one Ryan G. Moon.

  But Luna had more to add.

  Luna: Also, I didn’t accuse you. I asked if you’d lied. I do not tolerate the XY chromosome messing with my best friend.

  “What are you doing?” Ryan asked.

  I put my phone in my pocket rather than telling Ryan her best bish was interrogating me. Luna’s behavior was actually admirable. She was stepping up to make sure I had honorable intentions toward Ryan.

  How many people were willing to put themselves out there for a friend? My closest friend Bishop would go to bat for me, but he was rare.

  As was la-la-Luna. I didn’t want to get her in trouble for being annoyingly decent.

  Emphasis on annoying.

  “Nothing.” I swiveled my chair to face Ryan, and then just as quickly turned again to make sure Stacey was no longer in the waiting room. “What did you do with her?”

  “She booked it to the ladies’ room. Texting, huh?”

  “No.”

  Ryan placed her hands on the arms of the chair and loomed over me, putting her ample cleavage entirely too close to my face. “You should be thanking me.”

  In a feat of Herculean proportions, I kept my gaze on her face. Mostly. I wasn’t a saint. She had a purple wand necklace dangling between her breasts. I wanted to pull it between my teeth as arousal flared in her eyes then work my way under her dress to see what sort of lingerie she wore.

  If she wore any at all.

  “Hmm?”

  “So much hmming going around. I really earned that bonus now. While you were over here being furtive, I convinced Mrs. Franklin that you were helping me with my contact and there are no issues with propriety in this office.”

  “Did you swallow your contact?”

  “Huh?”

  “I can’t see how I could have been helping you with it unless I was attempting to retrieve it from your throat with my tongue.”

  She smirked. “There’s an image. Besides, now she knows it’s not like her situation. You’re not secretly married, right?”

  “Of course not.”

  Why did everyone seem to think I was lying about everything? Was it because I was a lawyer, or did I somehow give off an air of distrustfulness?

  Everyone trusted my brother, and he lied as easily as he breathed.

  She straightened with a proud smile. “So, yeah, I really can do this assistant thing. Stacey’s washing her face, and then she’ll be ready for the meeting. I did that. I mean, she did it. She’s stronger than she gives herself credit for, but I helped her realize men are—”

  “Pond scum?” I guessed.

  “Close. But actually, I told her if a guy does something like that, he’s not the one for you.” She ran the edge of her nail along her crystal necklace. “If he’s the one for you, nothing and no one can keep you apart.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You know it is.”

  Looking into her eyes, I knew with one hundred percent certainty that she was right.

  Which meant I needed to break her hold on me. Now.

  I didn’t want to, but I didn’t trust myself around her. Yesterday morning had proved I was out of control, as had the last few minutes. The only way I could be certain we could stick to our respective corners was through distance.

  And possibly a sex hex destroyer. I wondered where I could find one of those.

  Regardless, Luna’s texts had reminded me this wasn’t a game. I couldn’t let my dick lead me into perdition because real people got hurt when these kind of things went wrong. I knew that better than most.

  Ryan might annoy me more than any human on this planet ever had, but hurting her was the last thing I ever wanted to do.

  I made a show of looking at my watch as I stood. “I’ll have to keep the meeting brief because I have something to get to.”

  “Oh, real
ly?” She didn’t ask what, but I could hear the interest in her tone.

  Deliberately, I didn’t tell her more. Maybe that made me a bastard, but I was doing the best thing for both of us.

  “Mrs. Franklin,” I said smoothly as the other woman emerged from the short hallway off the waiting room. “We’re all set up in the conference room. This way, please.”

  “Stacey,” she corrected, holding out a hand. “I’m sorry about before.”

  “No problem.”

  After we shook, she smiled warmly at Ryan. “Your assistant is worth her weight in gold. I hope you pay her very handsomely.”

  It took everything I possessed not to look toward Ryan. I could feel her pleasure at Stacey’s words, and she deserved them. Clearly, I hadn’t given her a fair shake when she’d taken this job, even if she did have some questionable personal traits and an inability to be on time.

  But that didn’t mean I intended to throw all caution to the wind. She would finish her work here on Friday, and we would go our separate ways.

  Thank God Luna had been the cold water I needed before it was too late.

  I forced a smile. “She’s worth more than I could ever give.”

  Eleven

  Card of The Day: Embrace: Page of Swords | Release: Five of Swords

  Between being caught trying to take a photo of Preston, my crystal going haywire, him kissing the hades out of me, and then being interrupted by Stacey, I’d had entirely too much stimulation for an afternoon.

  Never mind the secret plans he wouldn’t tell me about. Which should not matter, except he’d just had his tongue in my mouth—again—and I guess I’d liked it.

  Fine, no guessing required.

  Since my energy levels were near the basement, I took a quick trip downstairs to suck in some sunshine and walk around the park across from Preston’s office. I slipped off my heels and let the grass and the earth seep into my skin.

  I wasn’t an empath, but any woman would need a little recharge after that much emotional turmoil. Add in my own chaotic energy thanks to being in PMS’s vicinity, and yeah, I needed a break.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  I blinked out of my minor cleansing bubble and looked down at the little girl. She couldn’t have been more than six years old. “Hey there. Where’s your mom? Or dad? Or…” I glanced around.

  The girl’s dark hair was scraped back into a messy tail, and she had a smudge of some kind of fruit on her face. She craned her neck up to meet my gaze. “Can I try?”

  Desperately, I looked around for someone who belonged to her. “What?”

  “The thing with your toes. Does it feel good?” She plopped on her butt and pulled off her sandals.

  I clenched my toes into the grass. “Um, yeah, sure.”

  “Just watch for doggie doo. Sometimes people don’t pick up after their dogs.” The little girl’s voice was matter of fact. “I always remember though. Even if it’s gross, my dad says you gotta take responsa-reponsa—”

  “Responsibility?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Responsibility for yourself and that includes your doggies. I have a doggie. His name is Bosco.”

  Do you have a daddy? That was the part I needed to know.

  I crouched down to meet the girl on her level. “Are Bosco and maybe your dad around?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She pointed to a man chasing a multi-colored mutt of unknown origin with its leash dragging behind. “I got tired of chasing Bosco. He gets away a lot.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “My dad is a mess. Grass feels nice though.”

  I stood back up and held out my hand to the girl. “Let’s go help him.”

  She looked back at her shoes.

  “They’ll be fine with mine. We’ll just mind the dog bombs.”

  She laughed then took my hand. “You’re kinda funny.”

  “I’ve heard that many times. What’s your name, kiddo?”

  “Penelope, but my dad calls me Poppy.” She smiled. “I secretly like it, but tell him I don’t.”

  “Gotta say I enjoy Poppy. It’s one of my favorite flowers.”

  “Me too!”

  “You don’t say.” I laughed.

  A dog’s bark pierced the air. He—based on name, of course—went low on his front paws then cornered like he was on an opposite track and darted left while the tall man went right and tripped on his own feet and did a rather spectacular tuck and roll then bounded back up on his feet.

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah, my dad is weird.”

  “I can’t roll like that.”

  “Oh, you should see him in his Judo class. He tosses people around like rag dolls.”

  I grinned down at Poppy. “You guys get more intriguing by the minute.”

  “Bosco!” Poppy giggled as the dog headed our way full steam ahead.

  “Oh, crap.” I braced myself for impact and went down hard. A lapful of dog and a very exuberant tongue was my reward. There were worse things. “Get down, you crazy mutt.”

  Bosco’s eyes were a piercing Husky blue in a mottled calico-colored face. Another tongue lick took off half my makeup then he bounded off again.

  “Dad!”

  “Shit—shoot!” The guy winced and crouched down in front of me. “Are you okay?” His attention was still on the dog, but I could tell he was torn.

  I gave him my most responsible smile. “Your kid is safe with me—go get the dog.”

  He pushed his overlong feathery hair out of his eyes. “You look okay. More than okay.” He gave me a quick grin, and his accent gave me a little shiver.

  I rolled my eyes. “I work in the building across the street. I’m harmless.”

  “Anything but harmless, love.” A dimple dented his cheek. “But I’ll be right back.” He glanced at Poppy. “Good?”

  Poppy nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

  I laughed and crossed my legs under my long graphic sundress then prepared to enjoy the entertainment.

  Super Judo Dad took off. Poppy plopped herself in the grass next to me and we both giggled at the antics.

  “Bosco should be in agility training.”

  “What’s agility training?”

  “You know those dog shows you see on TV sometimes? Where the dogs do the obstacle course?”

  “Oh, right!” She clapped when Bosco zipped around a tree. “Not sure he’d follow directions enough.” She slapped her hands over her eyes as Bosco took out a picnic basket lunch and swiped a sandwich.

  “Sorry!” Judo Dad yelled as he upped his speed.

  The dog stopped long enough to wolf down the sandwich and that was his mistake. Poppy’s dad dove on the leash. Then again, the dog didn’t seem inclined to run now that he was happily killing a perfectly good foot-long sub, wrapper included.

  He stopped at the picnic blanket and tried to apologize. He even went for his wallet but they just waved him off and gave the dopey dog a good scratch. The dad took out a business card, and the couple grinned, taking it and thanking him.

  Hot dad and the dog came running back to us. The man collapsed in a heap on the grass in front of us. He was barely winded, but he was sweaty. It didn’t take away the hot factor. In fact, his perspiration just curled his feathery hair even more.

  The dog shoved his head under Hot Dad’s arm and laid his huge head in his lap. The man ruffled his fur and there was no censure in his touch. “Dumb dog.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry. Thanks for watching Poppy.”

  I wouldn’t mind being called Poppy the way he said it either. “No problem.” I held out my hand. “Ryan.”

  “Grant.”

  Hot Judo Dad had a hot name too. Figured. I was hoping for a zing when I shook his hand, but alas no.

  Apparently, all my zings were reserved for one particular sexy, suited pain in the ass.

  Grant had a warm, manly handshake that didn’t crush, but he didn’t treat me like I was a weak and helpless sort either. “I’d be happy to treat you to an ice cream as thanks.” He moved b
ack.

  “And have Bosco steal it?”

  Bosco lifted his head and his spotted tongue lolled out.

  “Considering Bosco isn’t supposed to eat bread, I probably shouldn’t add ice cream to his list of offenses, I guess.”

  I grinned. “I have to get back to work anyway.”

  “We took off our shoes and smushed our toes into the grass, Dad.”

  “You did, hey?” He glanced down at my toes. “Should I ask why?”

  “A little grounding exercise. Rough day at work.”

  “Ah. I never thought of it that way. But I do the same, I suppose. When I have a rough day, I go for a walk.”

  “See?” I rolled to my knees and stood up, shaking the grass out of my skirt. Another reason I wore black most of the time. Stains didn’t show so much.

  “Can I go get our shoes, Dad?”

  “Stay where I can see you.”

  She darted off, her little feet kicking up in that carefree way kids had of running.

  “Sorry about that whole thing. I do keep track of my daughter when I’m with her, I promise.”

  “I won’t report you to CPS, don’t worry.”

  “And why would you know those initials, fair Ryan?”

  I hadn’t meant to blurt that out. There had been many a time I actually did worry about someone calling Child Protective Services on my mom. Not that she didn’t try her best, but not everyone understood Rainbow Moon’s version of parenting. “I work for a lawyer.”

  “Ah.” He frowned a little, but Poppy came racing back before he could say anything else.

  She held up my wraparound sandals. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grant’s eyes went hooded and he swallowed. “You work for a lawyer, you say?”