“I don’t have a ‘story.’ She’s a temp. All I have is her emergency contact form that she filled out this morning. And I’ll have you know, I’ve already called Penelope and gave her a raise.”
“What?” I shout at her, and by the time I look up, Lauren is gone.
“You called her a drunk, and she didn’t even kick you in the balls, which is what you deserved, by the way. I raised you better than that.”
“I don’t even know why I try with you.” I slam the phone down, but not before I hear her laughing.
I turn to my computer and try to Google her name, except all I have is her first name. I search the company directory to find her full name: Lauren Harrison. With that, I turn back to Google and go on my search.
I see that she has a Facebook account, but I can’t access anything because she has it set to private. The only thing I can see is the profile picture that she has of her two kids. She is in the middle with her son on her side, hugging her, and her daughter on her lap. You can’t see her hands, but you know she is holding both of them. Her son looks nothing like her, but her daughter is her clone. I try to look through her friends, but I can’t get anything. When a knock on my door startles me, I close down the page and yell out.
My partner, John, comes walking in. “Hey,” he says while he makes his way to the chair in front of my desk, throwing himself down in it. “Just saw your new temp.” He whistles. “If I weren’t married, I think she might be worth bending the rules for.” John has been married to his wife, Dani, for twelve years now. ‘College sweethearts till the end’ is their motto. She works at a big marketing firm downtown. We often use her when promoting our brand.
I shake my head at him and say, “Dani would skin you alive and leave you with nothing but your two balls hanging all the way to the floor. Right before she sets you on fire.” I know full well she would do that and so much more.
He laughs out, folding one leg over the other. “She pretty much would leave me with maybe the hair on my head. Other than that, it will all be gone.”
“If you’re lucky. How was Vegas?” He just got back from Vegas. He went to see if he thought branching out there was doable for us. I’m still unsure about it.
“It was what you expected. It’s hard to get your foot in the door anywhere. They all ‘have their own people.’ Dani and I checked around, but I’m leaning more toward shelving this for a later date.” I nod, agreeing with everything he is saying.
We spend about thirty minutes talking about the projects we have going on. He has four restaurants that are opening up in the next three months. All different cuisines and atmospheres, so he’s excited for what is to come. We discuss the nightclub/restaurant project that I have taken on. It’s more of a challenge, because everything has to work for both purposes.
After that, he tells me he’s leaving. I look at the clock, seeing it’s only six-thirty. I haven’t been out of the office this early in forever. I decide I’m going to hit up the gym.
I close up everything, making my way outside. I walk by Lauren’s desk, where her scent of berries lingers lightly. I see that she has Post-its all over her computer screen.
I walk over and can’t stop myself from moving a few around. It’s childish, I know, but I can’t help it. This is what she does to me.
Chapter Six
LAUREN
He asked me to stay late—as if. I was very specific about that when I filled out the form. I pick up the phone right before I head out, dialing Kaleigh. I’m surprised when I hear Rachel’s voice, “Hiya, Mommasita.” I smile just thinking of her standing there in the kitchen with her curls bouncing.
I walk out to the car telling them I’ll be home in twenty minutes. I pull into my driveway, put the car in park, and rest my head on the steering wheel, clearing the stress of the day away by drawing in a few breaths and letting them out. I think it’s the first time all day that I finally breathe normally.
I don’t have much time to myself before I hear Gabe running out of the house. “Mom, you have to come in quick.” The tone of his voice snaps me back to reality.
I sling my seatbelt off, getting ready to run inside. “What’s the matter?” I look at him.
“Aunt Kay is making supper.” He looks at me nervously, his big, brown eyes open wide in dismay.
“Oh, crap,” I say and quickly head into the house. The last time she attempted cooking us dinner, we ate sticky peanut cauliflower wings. There was nothing good about that concoction. Hell, it was barely edible. I won’t even talk about the aftertaste it left in my mouth, either.
I hurry in the door just as I hear the smoke detector go off. “Oh, dear Christ, Kay, what the hell are you doing?” I grab a broom out of the closet and position myself beneath the smoke detector, using the broom to fan the smoke away. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” I chant while looking over to the kitchen in time to see Kaleigh pulling a tray of charred, smoking cauliflower out of the oven.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I’m so sorry! We went outside to do some kid yoga, and I totally forgot,” she explains while she walks with the pan to the sink, turns on the water, and soaks the smoking remains of what was once cauliflower. The sizzling sound of water hitting a hot metal pan fills the quiet room, along with a burnt, smelly, steamy smoke that has the potential to set off the now silent smoke detector again. I do the only thing I really can do, which is to continue fanning.
“Oh, Auntie Kay, what are we going to eat now?” Rachel asks. She would have been the only one of us to attempt to eat one of Kaleigh’s creations.
Kaleigh slaps her hands together. “Oh! I have some tofu we can cut up and…” Before she can even finish that sentence, Gabe and I both yell a combined firm yet panicky, “No!”
I look over the mess that is my kitchen and begin a mental count to ten. “Okay, I’m going to change. Gabe, start your homework. Rachel, go start studying your spelling words. You”—I point at my sister—“clean up this mess. I’ll find something to throw together for pasta.”
She groans. “I don’t have any gluten-free pasta here.”
I look at her. “Okay, so you’ll be going home. Got it.” I point to the kitchen. “Clean this mess up before you leave.”
I head upstairs and change out of my work clothes, throwing on some yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I’m in mom mode now. I get back downstairs and see that Gabe is sitting at the table doing his homework, while Rachel is in the living room writing her words, and Kaleigh is putting things in the dishwasher. “Oh, good news,” she informs me. “I found some rice, so I’ll throw whatever sauce you make on there. Yumm-O.”
I shake my head, laughing at her as I start prepping the veggies to go into my pasta primavera. After I’ve sautéed everything and added the pasta, I toss it with a bit more olive oil and some parmesan. “Kay, set the table,” I call over to her.
She looks over my shoulder and complains, “I can’t eat that. You put cheese in it.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper to her. “I won’t turn you in to the vegan police. We’ll pretend it never happened.” I serve up some pasta onto plates for the kids.
I hear the fridge open, followed by a squeal from behind me. “Score,” she squeals, taking out one of her frozen meals from the freezer. “Look! Tofu ravioli! Saved!” She does a little dance on her way over to the microwave, raising her hands in the air and shaking her ass as she pops it in. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!” She continues dancing till the microwave beeps.
She pulls it out, peeling off the filmy plastic cover, and waves it under my nose. “Smells so good, right?”
I raise my eyebrows and nod yes, but I’m totally lying. Throughout the meal, the kids tell me about their day. Rachel tells me that today someone threw up in class because someone else farted. Apparently, this is hilarious to her, since she is in stitches about it as she retells the story.
By the time eight o’clock rolls around, I’ve got the kids bathed and tucked into their beds. I’m ready to pass out, but I c
ome down the stairs to lit candles and a full glass of a crisp, perfectly chilled white wine. “Aww, if you weren’t my sister—and I were into chicks—I’d make you my woman,” I swoon, grabbing my glass and curling up on the couch with my feet under me.
“So, tell me about this boss of yours?” she prompts as she sips her own wine.
“Oh, where do I start?” I close my eyes as I try not to picture him staring at me. Trying even harder to not picture him looming over me. Definitely trying really, really hard to not picture him taking off his clothes while he looms over me and stares.
“Good-looking?” she asks.
I nod my head yes and finish off my glass of wine in one long, satisfying drink. I pick up the bottle, pulling the cork out with a pop, and pour myself another glass. “Too good-looking.”
“Fit or chunky?” she asks, and now I know what she’s doing. Small questions now, big discussion later.
“Fit,” I answer, pausing to sip another glass that’s already half drained. “Very fit.” I think the wine is hitting me pretty fast, because I look around next before I whisper, “I think he has a six pack.” Then I finish the remaining wine in my glass.
“Hair color? Eye color?” She fills up my glass again.
“Brown and hazel-green with gold specks.” I drink a little more.
“Facial hair? Would you get a burn from his beard or not?”
I look up and think I blush a bit. “Depends on the time of the day. He was clean-shaven this morning, but he had a good five-o’clock shadow going by three o’clock.” I drop my head back on the back of the couch and close my eyes. Seeing his eyes right away, the smirk he gave me, the way he asked about my husband, not swallowing before I answered. Then his eyes suddenly lighting up with mischief.
“You like him?”
My eyes snap open as I turn to her. “No! No, I don’t. Absolutely not. I don’t like him at all.”
She giggles as she takes another sip. “He hit my freaking car, Kay, and then the asshat asked me if I was drunk,” I plead my case. “Drunk at fucking eight a.m.”
“He’s gotten under your skin! There hasn’t been anyone who’s pushed you this far. Well, there was Pacey from Dawson’s Creek…”
“Hey!” I point at her. “Joey went sailing with him all summer! Just because Dawson is there and crying, she thinks she should be with Pacey. He was always her choice.” I pour myself another glass, spilling a bit as I do it.
“Do you think he manscapes?” she asks, putting her glass down on the table, while I just down another one.
“I have no idea, but I would guess it’s probably manscaped. I mean, who doesn’t manscape these days?” I look over and wonder.
“Some like to be free and let things be natural; there is nothing wrong with that. Don’t judge. Well, unless you have to suck his dick, then by all means, you put your foot down. You don’t need to be choking on long pubic hair. In fact, if you think it isn’t, then just run. Run fast, like he’s waving a bomb in front of you.”
I nod at her. I should probably be taking notes. I feel like I should be taking notes so I can remember this.
“Shoes?”
“Nice. Black ones.” I look at her, my eyes opening wide. “And clean. Very nice.” I hate when guys don’t have clean shoes; it’s like having dirty feet. Ewww.
“Teeth? Straight? Crooked? White? Stained? Stinky breath?”
I tilt my head to the side and remember if he smiled today. I saw him smirk, I saw him glare, I saw his jaw muscle tic, but I’m not sure I saw his teeth. “I don’t know.”
“Big hands?”
“Oh yeah, so big.” I open my hands wide to make her see how big, but I shake them a bit “This big.” I motion with my hands, making big circles.
“You think he has a big dick?” I stop moving.
“He would have to. You can’t be that good-looking and have a small penis. Actually, maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole! His penis is small. He has small penis syndrome.” I look at her, waiting for her input. “I mean, why else would he be smoking hot and an asshole, unless…”—I giggle—“unless it’s so big it hurts when he walks.” I put my hand over my mouth and laugh out loud. “I can’t sleep with him. He’s my boss and besides, he doesn’t even like me.”
I rise from the couch, picking up my glass of wine and spilling whatever was left in it on the floor. “I need a dog, so if I spill something, he can lick it up.” I look over at Kaleigh, and she is silently laughing. “You think we can get a dog and train him to bite my boss?”
“Yes, I think you just need to bring a picture and a sweater with you to training school so they can use his scent. They’ll train the dog to attack your boss as soon as he gets close.”
My mouth forms an O. “Oooh, we need to look into that,” I say. And that is the last thing she says to me.
The next thing I know, I’m lying in my bed with her on the other side. “You think he doesn’t like me because I’m old? Or ugly? Or is it because I’m fat?”
She leans over and strokes my cheek. “You are not old. You are the opposite of ugly, and you are definitely not fat. He acts like he doesn’t like you, because he probably likes you too much. Remember Ricky in the third grade who chased you with a frog because he loved you? This is just the adult version.”
“No way would he go for someone like me. He did say I had a tight ass, though. That means he was looking at it, right?”
She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “He was definitely checking you out.”
I close my eyes. The room is spinning as the day replays in my head. I fall asleep to the sound of Kaleigh talking about a beef vegan soup that she is going to try to make, minus the beef, of course.
Her voice lulls me while I’m brought back to the day, sitting at my desk, knowing he was watching, feeling he was watching me.
Chapter Seven
LAUREN
The next day, I make it to work without incident, clocking in at seven fifty-five. I make my way into the break room, where I get the coffee going.
I’m leaning against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, when a tall man with glasses walks in. He is lanky, his tan pants are perfectly ironed with a crease down the front of the legs. His plaid shirt completes the look. I smile at him and say a polite “Hello.”
He nods his head at me and goes to the fridge, where he stores his lunch.
“You must be Austin’s new PA?” His voice is quiet as he waits for the coffee to finish also.
“I am.” I reach out my hand to him to introduce myself. “I’m Lauren.” He grips my hand, and his palm is just a tad sweaty, but not enough for me to wipe it on my navy skirt.
Today, I’m dressed in almost the same skirt as yesterday’s, except that it’s a dark navy blue and has some pleating at the sides. I’ve paired it with a plain white cotton button-down. It’s simple, but professional. I’ve gone with my tan peep-toe pumps that give me an extra four inches.
“My name is Steven. I’m in the accounting department,” he says while pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Are you enjoying your time so far?” he asks right as the machine lets out a gust of steam, letting us know that it’s done brewing.
I grab the handle. “I am. I thought it would be harder at the beginning, since I haven’t really worked in over ten years, but it’s just like riding a bike.” I smile over at him while I pour my coffee. He places his coffee mug on the counter and waits for me to hand him the pot. But I’m going to be friendly. “Please, let me, tell me when to stop.” He smiles at me.
“When you’re done flirting, you can fix me one, too. And we need to go over a couple of things.” Austin’s voice bursts into the room, startling me and causing me to spill a bit.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I say while I put down the pot in the holder and quickly grab a napkin, cleaning up the spilt coffee. Steven quickly grabs his cup and heads out with a smile to me, a nod to Austin, and a mumbled, “Good morning.”
“I know
you’re a temp and you don’t know the company policies, but we have a no-fraternizing policy.” He eyes me while putting his hands in his pockets.
I throw the napkin out and turn around to face him. He is dressed in a simple black suit, another crisp white dress shirt, looking sharp, and as if they were custom-fit for him.
He didn’t shave this morning, so he’s got more stubble than he did last night when I left, and I can’t help but think to myself that I’d definitely get beard burn from that. “I’ll have Barbara send over the policies so you don’t get confused.”
“I wasn’t flirting with him. I just met him. I was merely being polite. Although I’m sure that concept is foreign to you.” I pick up my mug and start to walk away.
“I asked for a coffee,” He stops me, and my head turns and I snap.
“No. You didn’t ask, you demanded. After you insulted me. Again. And for the record, when someone asks another person for something, it is customary that they follow the request with the word ‘please.’ The coffee’s done. Help yourself.” I glare at him.
I don’t have time to say anything else before Barbara comes into the room. “Good morning, you two. Lauren, I love that skirt. Very, very nice,” she compliments me while she grabs two mugs and goes about pouring her coffee.
“Barbara,” I address her, “Austin was just going over the company policies that are included in the employee handbook. If it’s not too much trouble, would you please send that to me? There is a non-fraternization policy Austin seems to believe I need to check out.” I hold my mug in front of my mouth to hide my smile.
Barbara looks up at me with a surprised look on her face and then looks at Austin. “I will send it right over to you. It seems I don’t have the right copy, since I don’t remember that particular policy. Austin, if you’ve amended the handbook, perhaps you should send it to me so I can make sure those changes are noted and emailed to everyone,” she suggests while she finishes making two cups of coffee, handing Austin one of the cups she prepared.
Tempt The Boss Page 4