by Kendall Ryan
Misadventures with the Boss
Kendall Ryan
This book is an original publication of Waterhouse Press.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2018 Waterhouse Press, LLC
Cover Design by Waterhouse Press
Cover photographs: Shutterstock
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
To John.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Don’t miss any Misadventures!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
More Misadventures
About Kendall Ryan
Chapter One
Piper
My Netflix account was judging me.
At least that was how it felt every time I had to insist Yes, Netflix, I am still watching Absolutely Fabulous, thank you very much. I imagined it asking even more invasive questions—questions my sister would ask if she were here.
Are you sure you want to keep watching?
Didn’t you move to New York City for all the exciting nightlife?
And, more importantly—what kind of twenty-something spends their evening watching so many old sitcoms?
I grabbed the throw pillow beside me, tucked it under my chin, and snuggled it close to my chest, ignoring the clunk of my phone as it tumbled to the floor. It wasn’t like anyone was going to call and ask me to hang out anyway. I was so new to the city that I was still surrounded by boxes that desperately needed to be unpacked.
But not tonight. Tonight, I was determined to sit like a stubborn bump on a lazy log and do nothing.
Raising the remote, I turned up the volume as the theme song faded and the show began. But just as the dialogue was really starting to heat up, my phone broke into the jazzy, happy tone I’d selected for one caller in particular—my sister.
Think of the devil.
I let it play on a bit, debating whether to answer. I then reached for the floor, snagged my phone from the carpet, and pressed it to my face.
“Hello?” I said, waiting for Hailey’s chipper voice to fill the speaker.
“Piper,” she deadpanned.
“What?” I asked, already feeling defensive and biting back a groan.
First mistake?
Answering the phone.
“Where are you right now? I don’t hear anything going on behind you. No music. No chatter. Tell me at least you’re at some gallery looking at glorious paintings and sipping champagne,” she demanded.
If things were quiet on my end, the same could definitely not be said for hers. As usual, bass-filled music blared behind her voice, getting softer as she moved through whichever Chicago bar was the flavor of the week. There were a lot of things a person could say about Hailey, but nobody could ever accuse her of not knowing her way around a party. To be perfectly honest, I was shocked I didn’t hear people chanting her name in the distance, begging her to join them for another shot.
She was like a people magnet, and I was…well, what’s the opposite of a people magnet?
Whatever the answer is, that’s me.
“I’m home.” I stared at the stack of brown cardboard boxes and forced a white lie from my lips because the truth was just too depressing to say. “Unpacking. And can you go outside or something? The music wherever you are is so loud.”
“Right.” I could practically hear her roll her eyes, but in a matter of minutes, the music had dimmed to practically nothing. “Why aren’t you out?”
“Who am I going to go out with?”
“I don’t know. You just go out. Find people along the way.”
I sighed. “I’m not like you. I don’t just enter a room and have people flock to me.”
“But aren’t you lonely?”
I bit my cheek. “I never said I wasn’t.”
“So what are you going to do? Just sit around your apartment and hope friends magically appear?”
“I just got a new job. I’ll meet people there when I start.”
Hailey blew out a frustrated sigh. “This isn’t like college or high school. You can’t just expect to hang with the people you see all day. We’re in the modern age, Pipes. You’ve gotta throw yourself into it. Take risks. Get wild.”
“What, like, join a chat room or something?”
“No, you weirdo. Use an app. All the dating sites have find-a-friend features,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, ideally I wouldn’t find my friends where people are also trying to get into my pants,” I said primly.
“And why not? I’m willing to bet nobody has gotten into your sensible slacks in a good long while, either,” my sister said with a snort.
“Hailey,” I warned, but she pressed on.
“Come on, everybody’s doing it,” Hailey said. “What could it hurt?”
My pride?
I should have said it aloud, of course, but just like everyone else, I had fallen under the magic spell that Hailey cast on everyone she met. I wanted to please her—to let her have her way. She was just so cool. So everything I wasn’t.
“Exactly,” Hailey said into the silence. “Even you can’t come up with a reason not to. I’m putting you on speaker so I can make you an account right now.” There was the sound of fumbling, and then my sister’s voice came back over the line again. “Okay, ready. You still have the same email address?”
Sucked into the whirlwind that was Hailey and at a loss to come up with a reason why I shouldn’t do this, I nodded, and then catching myself, I said, “Uh, yeah. Same one.”
“Great. Now we need to come up with a username for you.”
“How about Piper Daniels? My name,” I said dryly.
“Do you even internet?” Hailey said with a groan. “No, I think not. We don’t need stalkers tracking you down and trying to make dresses out of your skin.”
I winced and rubbed at my temple with my fingertip. “If you’re trying to convince me this is a good idea, you’re not doing a great job.”
Frankly, all of this was giving me a tension headache. I glanced longingly at the TV as she continued.
“Relax. We’ll root out the weirdos. Now focus. We need a screen name. Think something cute. Something that speaks to who you are as a person.”
I paused, but all I could come up with was Piper Longstocking. Between my freckles and my dark-red hair, it was a nickname that had come all too easy to the less-creative relatives in my family. I suggested this to my sister, and as expected, she scoffed.
“Jesus. God, no. Nothing about that screams sexy to m
e.”
“I’m not trying to scream sexy. I’m trying to find friends,” I reminded her.
“Well, we’re keeping our options open,” she hedged in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Besides, there’s going to be a picture of you on the profile. I used that one from cousin Anna’s wedding.”
“The one where I’m sneezing?” I hissed, mortified.
“No. What do you take me for, woman? There’s another one. You look cute, trust me. Now, let’s focus this name on something you like to do or something about you. You’re all organized, right? What about something to do with that?”
“Planning Piper?” I suggested.
“I don’t like it. We need to make it sexier.”
“Hail—”
“I’ve got it. Okay. Typed and saved. Can’t change it now.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” I groaned.
“Oh, it’s nothing bad. Just, you know, roll with the punches.”
“And what punches am I rolling with?”
She mumbled at first, so low that I couldn’t hear her.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Fantasy Girl 29,” she said more clearly.
“What?” I yelped. “Are you serious? What kind of person is looking to be friends with someone who names herself Fantasy Girl 29?”
“What? You love fantasy stuff. You’re all into, like, Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings, so I thought—”
“That is not how people are going to read that, Hail.”
“Oh well. What’s done is done,” she said in a rush. “Now we just need to answer some questions. You’re a 29-year-old female with a bangin’ bod, and you’re looking for friendship, long- and short-term relationships, and casual sex.”
Panic shot through me, and I let out a squeak. “I am not looking for—”
“Aren’t you?” Hailey cut in. “Be honest with me for just a second here. What would it really hurt for you to get a good, rough bone in every now and again? It’s been ages since you and Tommy broke up, and I seriously doubt you found yourself a fuck boy to get over it, so—”
I wrinkled my nose. “No, I moved to a new city to start fresh and get away from him. Now come on, don’t—”
“Too late. Already done,” Hailey chirped. “No going back now.”
I pinched my nose between two fingers. “Right. Of course not.”
“Now let’s answer some questions. You drink occasionally, and you don’t smoke. Those are easy. You’re an animal person.”
“I’m allergic to cats,” I said.
“But you like them. Good enough.”
“Why do I get the feeling I should hang up and just let you do whatever you’re going to do?”
“Come on, don’t be like that,” she pleaded in that sweet voice that made me want to hand her the moon on a platter. “Now let’s get to the real questions, shall we? Okay, if you were going to have one romantic night anywhere in the world, where would you choose?”
I thought hard. Some girls would say Paris. Others would say a picnic on the edge of a lake.
Me? I glanced at my paused TV and said, “In my apartment. Homemade dinner and some movies. Perfect night.”
Hailey groaned. “I’ll never understand how we came from the same people’s loins, but I’m writing it down because I love you, and surely there is someone out there who will too. Okay, next one. On a scale of one to ten, how adventurous are you?”
“One,” I said.
“Five, then,” Hailey corrected. “Nobody says one. They’ll think you cower in your apartment like a hermit, afraid to leave the house.”
“That’s kind of what I do.”
“But people don’t need to know that.”
And so it went. Over and over again—for roughly a million questions—Hailey asked me about myself and then corrected me to make me more palatable to other people. When at last we’d finished, she clicked into my profile and let out a contented sigh.
“Okay, here’s your description. Hey there! I’m Piper, and I’m looking for like-minded people to hang out with as I’m new to the city. My interests include Netflix, a good glass of wine, board games, and snuggly couches,” Hailey said.
“Good enough,” I said, compromising because it was the best I was going to get from her at this point.
“Great,” she said, smacking her lips with satisfaction. “Ooh, lookie here! You’ve already got a match.”
“What?” My stomach kicked up a team of butterflies. “Are you serious?”
“Dead. Oh, wow,” Hailey cooed. “He’s sexy.”
“I’m not looking for sexy,” I reminded her.
“Oh, you’re definitely looking for this kind of sexy. Everyone wants this kind of sexy. Holy cow.”
“How do you know he’s not going to make a wig out of my skin or whatever you said?” I reminded her, trying not to let the panic set in.
“Oh, relax. You can keep me on speed dial through your whole date.”
“Date?” I asked.
“It’s tomorrow night at the Florentine Inn. That place is nice, so wear a dress,” she chirped.
“What the hell, Hail?” I said, my palms going clammy even at the thought.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me just yet.”
“Cancel it,” I shot back. “Cancel it right now.”
“No. You need to get out there, and this is the only way you’re ever going to do it. I’m just giving you a gentle shove, sis,” Hailey insisted.
It felt more like a knife in my back. Everything in me wanted to fight her on this. Everything except this one, teeny tiny part of me that feared she was right—and I was terrified to spend the rest of my life alone. Of sitting inside this apartment with no one to talk to and nothing to do and, worse, getting more comfortable with it day by day until the only people I saw were workmates and Thai food delivery guys. That part had me considering it. Just this one time.
“Well, tell me something about him, at least,” I grumbled.
“Nope. You have to go into this with an open mind, and at least this way, I know you will.”
For a female, the size of my sister’s balls never failed to astonish me. “You’re evil,” I said.
“Yep, but you are going to like this guy and end up thanking me. I can feel it. Now I’ve gotta go. When I left, some chick was talking about riding the mechanical bull, and I’m pretty sure it’s about to get hilarious in there. Love you.”
She hung up, and I glared at my phone for a long moment before setting it on the coffee table in front of me and staring at the TV.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a first date—maybe not since college. I’d thought, way back when, that Tommy and I were going to make it, that we’d get married. But no. He got promoted to Head Douchebag or whatever his title was at some real estate firm, and he left me in the dust. And then, with his face plastered on every billboard in town promoting the firm, I couldn’t get away from the guy.
I’d needed a fresh start—something new. Different. So I came here.
And I’ve been wallowing and watching Netflix ever since. Though, to be fair, it had only been three days.
Placing my hands just outside my thighs, I propelled myself from the couch and made my way toward the calendar hanging from my fridge. Monday was marked with bright-green ink—my first day at my new job. And tomorrow?
Tomorrow was a day for pink. The color of romance.
I picked a pen from a little cup near the fridge, wrote the time and place of my date on the calendar, and then stood back and smiled. Hailey could be right. This could be my one chance to get back on the horse and spend my Friday nights somewhere other than lounging on my couch alone.
And she was right about one other thing too.
It had been a long, long time since I’d felt the warmth of a man’s skin against me. And the fact that I didn’t know a thing about this guy? Well, that made it all the more terrifying…but also kind of exciting.
The best part? If it didn’t work out, I’d never have to see him again. Maybe Hailey had really come up with the perfect plan this time.
Chapter Two
Jackson
The tension was starting to get to me.
Which, I should note, was extremely rare. Mergers fell through and clients backed out, but me? I was cool as a fucking cucumber straight out of the refrigerator.
Except, of course, in times like these…
When I’d gone more than two weeks without getting laid.
It was like clockwork, really. The moment the clock stroked two weeks, I was like a caged animal, tense and pacing, waiting for some brief moment of release. And now, two hours after I should have gone home for the day and one hour after my assistant should have ordered my dinner? I was more pent-up than ever before.
Hungry and horny was almost too much to bear. Horngry. It was a bad combination all around.
Stalking toward my desk, I pressed down on the intercom and said, “Jane, I need you to find me a date for tomorrow night. Some internet site or something should be fine. And when is dinner supposed to get here?”
I released the button and waited for Jane’s nervous, skittering voice to buzz through the line. Nothing happened. I held back a growl and paced to the door, opening it to find…nothing.
An empty desk with a neat lavender note folded in half and labeled with my name.
Taking it, I unfolded the letter and skimmed its contents.
Mr. Dane,
By the time you read this, I’m sure I’ll have been gone for hours. I’m sorry to leave this way, but I simply can’t work like this anymore. I need to have a job where I can be sure I’ll be able to pick up my children on time and make them supper. As I stated in my initial interview, this isn’t something I’m willing to compromise.