Crazy for the Boss (Crazy in Love Book 1)

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Crazy for the Boss (Crazy in Love Book 1) Page 9

by Ashlee Mallory

“So why’s he here?” the man repeated, his gaze mercilessly still on James.

  But instead of being intimidated by the man, Quinn shook her head and laughed before hugging him. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave him abandoned on the runway. Besides, the better question should be why am I here, should it not?”

  Her dad finally pulled his gaze from James and turned it to his daughter, his eyes softening the slightest bit as he returned her hug.

  “Surprise,” Quinn said, finally pulling away. “I thought I’d surprise you both for your anniversary. I hope you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow night, because Sabrina and I were hoping to take you two to dinner.”

  “We’re thrilled, absolutely thrilled to have you both,” Quinn’s mother said and smiled at James. “And thank you for getting our daughter here safely. James, in case you didn’t know, this is my husband, Bill, who I’m sure is just as pleased as I am that you’re here.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” James said and offered his hand to the surly man, who grunted but accepted the offer.

  “I bet you’re both starved and I was just preparing lunch. Why don’t we all have a seat?” Quinn’s mother said.

  “We ate a little on the plane. Mom, you don’t have to go to any more trouble on our account,” Quinn said.

  “Then you can at least sit and join us for a cup of coffee. I’d love to hear more about you, James, and how things are working at your new job, Quinn.”

  “Hopefully not firing a lot of hardworking employees for the sake of the bottom line,” Quinn’s father said, piercing him again with that stare.

  “Yes, well, we generally prefer to retain our hardworking employees,” James said, trying to lighten the mood with humor. But from the glare Quinn’s dad was still sending him, he had missed his mark.

  The table was positioned close to the windows with the view of the lake, and he was careful to wait until everyone took a seat to take his own. “You have a lovely place here, Mrs. Taylor.”

  “Cindy. I insist,” she said and returned to the kitchen area to grab a couple of coffee mugs that she brought to the table, along with the carafe of coffee. “Bill built this place for us the first year we were married.”

  “Well, it’s great. And you can’t beat that view.”

  Quinn’s father ignored the compliment. “I’m sure it’s nowhere close to what you’re used to, with your fancy planes and probably fancy homes. But it suits us just fine.”

  Quinn and Sabrina shared another look.

  “I imagine it does.”

  “So, James, tell us a little about yourself,” Quinn’s mother said as she joined them at the table. “Where you’re from, about your family…”

  Quinn looked embarrassed. “Mom, James doesn’t want to have to go through all of—”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, cutting her off. “Well, I was born in Seattle, but after my parents died when I was three, I moved to San Francisco to live with my grandfather.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. So your grandfather raised you then? You must be close.”

  James took the coffee she handed him and did a noncommittal shrug, which Cindy must have taken for affirmation, as she continued. “So you grew up in the Bay Area then. I always wondered what it must be like living in a big, bustling city like that. I’m sure the schools were impressive.”

  “Mom was a high school English teacher until last year,” Quinn added, a twinkle of laughter in her dark eyes. “She takes education very seriously.”

  “I don’t know a lot about the public school system in California, I’m afraid. When I was ten, I attended boarding school in New Hampshire and later, during high school, in Vermont.”

  “You did?” Quinn asked, her eyes a little wider.

  He nodded and took a drink of his coffee that was fairly acrid, and he hid his grimace.

  “Sounds expensive,” was all her dad said.

  “Well, I bet you had a lot of great adventures,” Mrs. Taylor said, trying to put a positive outlook on it.

  James’s cell phone chirped before he could answer, and he quickly took it from his pocket. Two missed calls and a voice mail? He hadn’t even heard it ring until now.

  Quinn leaned over to see the screen. “Yeah, the cell service here can be spotty. We usually lose it entirely when we pull off the main road, and then it’s iffy once we’re at the house. That’s why the landline here is usually your better bet.”

  Sure enough, a few seconds after trying to place his call, the connection dropped. “Would you mind if I use your phone?” he asked Quinn’s mother.

  “No problem,” she said and walked over and picked up one of the phones perched on an end table and handed it to him.

  This time when he called, the call made it through.

  Only, the news that Chris was telling him wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting.

  “Right. And you’ll call me when you have a better idea?” James was saying as he glanced over at her. Something in his expression put Quinn immediately on guard.

  “Okay, thanks, Chris,” he finished and placed the phone back on the table before returning to his seat. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

  “What was that all about?” Quinn asked, not ready to move on.

  “Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Although…I might be in need of some assistance in finding a hotel or something. Just for the night.”

  “There’s a Best Western in town, a couple of bed and breakfasts, and of course the ski resort up the mountain,” her dad offered fairly quickly.

  Quinn met Sabrina’s gaze again, both of them knowing his chance at finding a vacancy at any of those was nil. “Only with the winter carnival this week in addition to the usual ski season crowd, I wouldn’t hold my breath that you’ll find a vacancy anywhere,” Sabrina said.

  “What happened to the plane? Is it bad?” Quinn persisted.

  “They’re ordering a part from Spokane, but it won’t arrive until the morning.”

  “Well, if the local places are full, there’s bound to be something in Coeur D’Alene,” her dad said again, glaring now at Sabrina.

  “Nonsense,” her mom said, waving her hand. “That’s nearly an hour away. No, James will just stay here with us. We have an extra guest room. Of course, the guesthouse around back would have been better—that’s where Sabrina has been staying for the past couple of years—but the furnace went out last week, so she’s been back in her old room.”

  “The place might be barely a couple degrees warmer than Antarctica,” Sabrina said, her voice a little too bright and saccharine. “So lucky me has been reliving my childhood these past nine days in my old room.”

  But Quinn was still too stunned to commiserate with her sister.

  James? Her boss was going to stay here, at her parents’ house? Not just under the same roof as her—but with her entire family?

  She tried not to appear too horrified, even as she tried to figure out any other solution to the situation. From the expression on her dad’s face, he was trying to come up with some alternative as well.

  “I couldn’t impose on you like that,” James said, sounding all politeness and charm. “And I would imagine Quinn’s idea of a getaway from work didn’t include getting stuck with the boss.”

  Her mom and sister both seemed to be pointedly studying her, waiting.

  They didn’t realize that she had personal barriers she’d put up between her and James, necessary barriers to stop herself from giving in to the fantasies that had been stealing into her dreams more and more lately, fantasies that left her wondering about what it would be like to feel those lips touching hers, his hand cradled in hers, their bodies pressed so tightly together, his saying the words that would make her think what she was feeling might actually be real.

  The barriers worked because she went home every night to her own place, her own bed, her own friends.

  But if she was just across the hall from him, sharing dinner with him at her family table,
inviting him into her little world up here that she called home? Things were going to get really, really…hard.

  Still. What choice was there?

  She sighed. “Of course you’re going to stay here. It’s only for a night.”

  After all, she’d spent months working with the man without doing anything she’d regretted.

  What could possibly happen in one night?

  Chapter 12

  Now that James was officially their guest, Quinn threw a warning glance to her dad, who was now chewing his sandwich almost furiously.

  It was hard for anyone to miss the older man’s reluctance. Fortunately, Sabrina jumped in. “You’re actually in luck, James. There’s a ton going on today and tomorrow. It’s almost fate that you should get stuck here on the same week as the biggest town party of the year. I bet you’ll hardly even be here at the house at all,” she added, likely for their dad’s benefit.

  “Well, if you don’t think it will be too much of an imposition,” he said slowly, returning his gaze to her dad as if waiting for his approval.

  Her dad wiped his hands on his napkin and sighed. “We’re happy to have you.”

  Not exactly a warm invitation, but it would do.

  “Okay then. Thank you and I promise I won’t be any trouble. You’ll hardly even know I’m here. In fact, I believe Sabrina was mentioning earlier that there would be a Roller Derby exhibition game. You did say that was later today, correct?”

  Sabrina threw a sudden guilty look Quinn’s way before nodding. “It is. Five this evening followed by the food thing at the beer hall, where all the local restaurants and food vendors bring their favorite specials to sample, then dancing at Crawley’s.” Sabrina glanced at her watch. “Which means I’ve got to go hole up in my old childhood bedroom and try to get my word count in for the day if I’m going to enjoy anything.”

  Her mom came to her feet and started clearing the dishes. “Quinn, why don’t you show James his room so he can…” Her mom trailed off, her attention on James’s outfit. “Did you say you had some luggage?”

  He cleared his throat. “I do, back at the plane. But considering that, aside from this outfit, most of the attire consists of shorts, sandals, and swim trunks, none of which I believe will be appropriate here, there’s no urgency in having my driver retrieve it until later. In fact, I’ll probably have him take me back into town right now so I can pick up a few things.”

  Her mother clucked her tongue. “Don’t you worry about buying a thing. It would be a terrible waste for you to spend your money on a few things you’ll probably never wear again, especially when I have some things of Bill’s that will work nicely.” She looked him over again. “Yes, I think they’ll do fine.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to put anyone out,” James started, appearing almost uncomfortable as he glanced over at her dad.

  “No, I won’t hear any objections. There are plenty of clothes that I’ve been thinking of donating since, in Bill’s retirement, his waistband has done a little expanding. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  James glanced helplessly over to Quinn, but she only smiled sweetly in return, enjoying his discomfort. “You heard her. No problem at all. Why don’t I show you your room in the meantime.”

  Quinn led James down the hallway, stopping briefly to pick up some fresh sheets from the linen closet before continuing on to the spare bedroom.

  Right next to her own room.

  “Here we are,” she said and looked around, noticing how much of her mom’s sewing and scrapbooking had taken over the place in recent years, with bags and fabric swatches covering almost every surface.

  James cleared his throat again. “I really appreciate your mom offering me somewhere to stay but…are you really okay with it? Because if this makes you uncomfortable, I am sure I could find somewhere else to stay.”

  She sighed. Of course it would be infinitely easier if he weren’t staying under the same roof, but she also knew that he wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for her, and she couldn’t send him out there to fend for himself. “It’s fine. Besides, at this point you’d only offend my mom if you said no. So for the next twenty-four hours, you’ll be our guest.”

  “And what about your father? I might be mistaken, but I don’t think he particularly likes me.”

  She thought about that for a moment as she started clearing off the stuff from the bed and stacked it in the closet. “I don’t know how much he dislikes you as much as he dislikes what you represent.”

  “Come again?”

  “Up until he retired a couple of years ago, my dad worked at the local coal mine for thirty-five years, twenty of those years as the foreman.” She began pulling the bedding off as James went to the other end to assist her. “In this town, there’s always been a kind of odd sentiment, an us, the working class, against the rich mining company. The big bad guys who would prefer to cut a few corners to save the bottom line at the risk of the safety of the men my dad supervised. To him, you represent the big companies, the big businesses always watching out for the bottom line.”

  He was silent a moment as he picked up the fitted sheet from the bed and opened it, looking a little lost as he stared at it. “I guess that explains a lot. Not just about him but about you. Is that why you became a labor and employment attorney? To protect people, employees, from the big, greedy hands of the corporations?”

  “Here,” she said and took the sheet. “They go on the bottom.”

  He grabbed one end, and for a moment, they were silent as they worked together to get the sheet on and she considered his question. She couldn’t deny it. She’d always been well aware of the social and economic difference between those with the power and the money and those without them. “I know, it sounds a little like David and Goliath, everything in black and white, good and evil. But…I wanted to be the voice for those oppressed workers, those who suffer intolerable working conditions because they didn’t really have any choice or know any other solution.”

  There was a lot more to it, of course. But that would mean dredging up personal stuff about her mom, about herself. Stuff she wasn’t prepared to go into with him.

  “Do you think of me that way? Like I’m just another Neil or Dennis, more interested in the bottom line than the employees?”

  He sounded entirely too invested in the question, and she was growing uncomfortable with the intensity of his blue eyes as they studied her.

  “I don’t always know with you, to be honest,” she said, smoothing the sheet down and opening the flat sheet. “At times I see glimpses of this pragmatic guy who wants things to be different, who wants to run things differently, better, more fairly. Who sees the value of every member of his team. But I also think you struggle with who you want to be and who you think you have to be to run this business successfully.”

  “Fair enough. Since as I seem to recall when we first met, you likened working with me to working with the devil himself. To hear that you’ve perhaps seen a different side of me leaves me hopeful. And somewhat grateful.”

  “Grateful?”

  He grinned, his whole face lighting up in that way that made it difficult for her to breathe. “For whatever situation you found yourself in that my offer of employment was too tempting to refuse.”

  Oh, right.

  Quinn stared at him, trying to return his easy smile. Because the reasons for her desperation, her dire financial straits, were something, even now, that felt like she needed to be ashamed of, to hide. Despite what her therapist told her about how the shame, the fear, and the feelings of loss of control over her life that left her feeling so alone were something she should be proud of overcoming. And that being honest with others would prevent her from hitting such a low point again.

  Nice sentiment, considering that in the past few months of working at Thornhill, two managers had come to her office to discuss their “concerns” over an employee who had mentioned having to take antidepressants or antianxiety medi
cine. She’d told each manager, of course, that their concerns were baseless and that there was no need to worry merely on the basis of their condition alone, and gave some recommendations for accommodations. But she knew that secretly they all were keeping an eye on the employees, just waiting for a moment where they’d go “postal.”

  It was why, other than her friends and her sister, Quinn didn’t talk about her own struggle.

  “Okay, here are a few things,” her mom said suddenly from the doorway, saving Quinn from further discussion on the topic. Her mom dropped the armful of clothing to the bed, along with a pair of worn Timberlands.

  Her mom turned around and eyed James up and down, her brow furrowed. “Now the pants might be a little on the short side. But with the boots, I don’t think it will be that noticeable.” She picked up a giant oversized parka. “Here. Try this on.”

  James cast a helpless look her way, and Quinn couldn’t help but smile as her mom helped him into the green coat. “I bought that for Bill four years ago, and for some reason, he just refused to wear it, but I think it should do nicely for you. I imagine the temperature here is quite a shock from the climes of San Francisco.”

  “Actually, it’s not really all that cold,” he tried to say from underneath the poufy coat, and Quinn bit her lip to stop from laughing. Definitely a far cry from his usual GQ-inspired duds.

  “No, I insist,” her mom said. “I know that you might not realize it now, but the temperature is going to drop quite a bit later tonight, and I’d feel terrible if you came down with something right before you left on your vacation.”

  “Well, um, thank you.”

  “You’re quite welcome and you be sure to let me know if there’s anything else you need.” Happy with her work, her mom patted Quinn on the shoulder before she headed back out, smiling to herself.

  James pulled the coat off and placed it on the pile before throwing himself back on the bed, tucking his hands behind his head. “So. What’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon? I’m afraid that my cell service is currently at zero bars, and as far as I can tell, there’s no Wi-Fi in the place. Which leaves me without access to the outside world. So I might as well tag along with you until the big Derby game.”

 

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