by Emma Louise
Instead of walking away, I lift my hand and bang the glass, harder this time. When I get no response, I do it for a third time. This time much harder again.
The door finally opens, and he fills the space in front of me. I wasn’t wrong when I said he’s beautiful, but somehow that doesn’t do him justice. He’s tall, maybe a full foot taller than my five-feet-five. Wide, strong shoulders. Muscular arms covered by a tight black tee flex as he crosses his arms over his chest. His size is certainly intimidating, but it’s his face that holds my attention. Tanned skin. Deep, dark brown eyes. Heavy brows slanted down over them do nothing to hide the depths there. There’s a story in those eyes. One I'd guess he doesn’t share easily based on his attitude.
He’s older than me for sure, but I get the feeling his serious demeanor makes him look older than he actually is. His gaze flicks from my face and over my body. He takes his time doing so, and while he’s just as blatant about it as the guy upstairs, this time I don’t feel the need to shy away from it. Typical of me to be attracted to the dickhead who was just having a public argument with a woman over her lack of oral skills.
Maybe Asa has a point about me needing to grow up. I don’t get a chance to ponder this further, because when he’s done looking me over, he finally speaks.
“I think you took a wrong turn, sweetheart. You can sign up for classes up at reception.” He smirks at me, and I don’t miss the faint sniggers from the guys that I'm sure have been enjoying the show they’ve gotten over the last few minutes.
This might be your new boss, Bree. Do not slap him.
Painting on a fake smile, I take a breath before speaking.
“I’m here to meet a Mr, Harmon?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question, but it does. “I have an interview for the yoga instructor position. I’m a little late, though.”
He doesn’t speak. Just stands there, impassive eyes flicking over every inch of me. Even I’m starting to wonder if this job is going to be worth this much hassle. This seems like he’ll be a pain in the ass to work for. I’m about to give up and leave, when the doors open once again. At first, I assume my eyes are playing tricks on me. The guy walking this way looks exactly like the moody prick standing next to me. It’s not until he’s made it closer to us that I see the differences between them. This new one is a touch shorter, less bulky. The biggest difference, though, is the smile on his face.
“You must be Breeze?” he asks, extending a hand toward me.
“Yes, Mr. Harmon?”
“Please, call me Keir. My office is this way.” Swinging a hand toward the door furthest away from us, he waits for me to walk ahead of him. I walk away, but I do it wishing I had a reason to turn around to speak to the brooding man I’m moving away from instead.
Breeze.
The name suits her. She looks like a fucking fairy in that too short dress and all that pink hair.
Pink fucking hair.
Keir shuts his office door slightly, but I don’t move away. Instead, I move closer, standing outside and listening to him ask the beautiful woman I'd just been staring at all the usual banal interview questions. She answers everything with a quiet confidence. I can imagine her face lighting up as she speaks; it’s obvious from her answers that she loves what she does.
I need to get laid. One look at a pretty face and I’m turning into an idiot.
Making my way back to my office, I sit at my desk. I have so much shit to do, but today has been a disaster. Abel decided last night that he was over sleeping through the night. He must have woken me up five times. There’s not enough coffee in the world to stop my ass from dragging today. But no sleep was the tip of the iceberg of shit I’ve had to deal. Shit I don’t have time to deal with because work is also kicking my ass. Add in the visit from a crazy ex hook-up who didn’t want to take no for an answer, and my day probably couldn’t get any worse.
What feels like hours later and I'm finally replying to the last email that’s been waiting for my attention for days now. I’m about to pick up the phone and start on the list of messages I have to return when I look at the clock, seeing it’s already midday. Almost time for me to go collect Abel from my sister-in-law. Between her and my mom helping look after him, I'm able to work pretty much full time. One of the perks of owning this place, though, is that I can bring him in with me on days I'm not in the ring training someone, like this afternoon. Shutting my laptop, I get ready to collect my son. He might have kept me up all night, but I’ve missed him this morning.
It’s crazy how much he’s changed my life. Being his dad is hands down the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Every day is a learning curve, but making sure he’s happy, healthy, and loved is all that matters to me now. That’s not to say it’s been easy. Fuck no. Most of the time I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I spend so much time wondering if I'm getting it right, or if I’m raising him how Willow would have wanted me to.
That’s one of the hardest parts, the not knowing. There’s no link to his mother. She died with no family and only a few friends. Jessie had been back to the hospital a few times before Abel was released, but she’d been struggling with losing her friend. She let me and my family help with arranging a small funeral for Willow. After that she’d handed over a tiny box of her belongings for Abel to have. Just a few photos and her high school yearbook. After Willow was buried, Jessie had told us it was too hard for her to stay here and that she’d found work out of state. She knows she’s welcome to keep in touch, to see Abel if she wants. I hope one day she feels ready to be part of his life. He’s going to want to know things about his mother one day that I won’t be able to answer.
When I make it upstairs, I find Poppy is already here sitting behind the reception desk, Keir leaning over kissing her. Abel is in his car seat at her feet. Once he sees me approaching, his little legs start kicking. He might have been tiny when he was born, but he’s more than made up for it since he’s been home. It’s hardly surprising with the amount of milk the kid can put away. Almost three months old and he’s already bigger than my nephew was at that age.
“What are you guys doing here? I said I'd come get him.”
“I think what you meant to say is, thank you, favorite sister of mine,” Poppy jokes.
“You’re what, ten months pregnant now? You shouldn’t be driving,” I joke, causing her to roll her eyes at me.
“Hey, kid.” I drop to a knee so I can unbuckle and lift him out. “You in a better mood now?” I’m treated to a gummy smile as he stretches his chubby body. Standing with him in my arms, I settle him on my hip facing away from me. He hates not being able to see what’s going on.
“I think I know why this little guy had you up all night,” Poppy says, giving his belly a tickle. “I’m pretty sure he’s cutting at least one tooth.”
I swing him around so I can take a look. He’s chewing on a finger, and there’s plenty of drool there. Looks like my boy’s growing up. I’m not ready for this shit.
“Mind slowing down on this growing up thing, kid?” I ask him. I get a smile and few coos in reply. “Yeah, yeah, kid. I get it.”
“Wanna explain what the shit was in your office this morning?” Keir asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“Nope.” I ignore him. Another perk of owning this place, I don’t have to explain jack shit to him.
“What happened this morning?” Poppy leans over the desk, no doubt waiting for some gossip.
“Nothing.”
“Usual TJ crap.” We both answer at the same time.
“Oooh! There’s not been enough TJ drama lately. You’re boring when you behave; you know that, right?”
“Well, I'd take boredom over him arguing with some random over her giving him a blow job,” Keir mutters.
“Actually, it was about how bad she was at it.” I deadpan.
“Dude. In front of my wife? Really?”
“You brought it up, not me.”
“One of you better tell me what happened!”
/>
Knowing she won’t let it drop, I decide it’s easier to tell her. “It was nothing. An old friend decided to drop in, and she didn’t like it when I told her I wasn’t interested in reconnecting.” I shrug, hoping she’ll leave it there. Judging by the amused look on her face, I'm betting she won’t.
“Yeah, except she decided she’d share how much she didn’t like it with the whole room. Including the girl I was just about to interview for the yoga instructor position.”
“Ouch.” Poppy laughs. “I bet that was awkward.”
It wasn't, probably because I was too angry to notice her standing there.
“Well, it was awkward for me, interviewing her after that. I’d prefer it if she didn’t think she was coming to work with a bunch of idiots.” He huffs.
“You gave her the job?” I’m aiming for nonchalant, hoping he doesn’t notice the edge that I can hear in my own voice. I shouldn’t care if he gave it to her or not. I might have been attracted to her, but that means nothing. I’m not in a place in my life where I’m able to do anything about it. And anyway, I’m sure she thinks I’m trash after how we met earlier.
I tell myself this, but I can’t deny the small thrill that I feel when my brother confirms that he has, in fact, offered the beautiful Breeze a job.
It’s not until the interview is over and I'm walking out of Flex that I realize I’m stranded. No car and no phone to call anyone to pick me up. Luckily the sun is shining so the walk back isn’t too hard, even if it takes over an hour. I’m going to have to get my car back on the road ASAP. Either that or I need to find a bicycle. Thinking of dipping into my savings for the car repair bill has me leaning toward the bicycle option. Especially if I get the job. Keir told me he’d be in touch once a final decision has been made, and I have everything crossed that I did enough to get this job.
Thinking of Flex inevitably has my mind wandering to those deep, dark brown eyes. Sitting there, trying to answer questions about my past work experience, it was a struggle to stay focused on my answers instead of the hot guy out in the hallway. Hopefully, I managed to wing it enough that I didn’t look like an idiot.
It takes me longer than I thought, but I finally make it to Deja Brew, the coffee shop my best friend, Fleur, owns. Pushing the door open, I'm not surprised there’s a line of people ten deep waiting to be served. It's like this every day. Stowing my bag under the counter, I grab an apron and tray and start collecting some of the empty mugs that litter the tables. Once my tray is full, I take them through the back so I can run the dishwasher.
“I fucking LOVE you!” Fleur shouts as I pass her. The rush doesn’t die down for another few hours, and it feels like I’ve made a million lattes and served twice as many sandwiches. By the time it’s quiet enough to take a break, it’s almost four pm.
“My feet are on freaking fire,” Fleur groans as she pulls out the chair next to me and sinks into it.
“That’s what you get for making kick-ass coffee.”
“I suppose,” she grumbles. “What’s with the pink hair?”
Pulling my hair out of its haphazard bun, I smooth my hands over the waves. The pink strands are bold for me. I usually leave it as the dark blonde it’s always been, but the pink has grown on me. “The salon I use has a new apprentice; she cuts it for free if I let her practice her coloring techniques.”
“Anything to save a buck, huh?” Fleur chuckles at me. She knows me so well. “I like it, though, looks good on you.”
“You would like it.” I nod at Fleur’s own hair. The ends tipped a vivid blue. “Although, she said it would wash out quickly, and it’s been a week already. I had that interview earlier, and I'm not sure it fit in with their style.”
“What? Where was it? I thought you were looking for a new instructor position?”
“It was for that maternity cover position, over at Flex.”
“I’m such a shitty friend!” she cries, slapping a hand over her eyes. “I totally forgot that was today.”
“You were busy, don’t even think about it.” I wave her off knowing she would never purposely hurt my feelings. She’s rushed off her feet running this place. Although the café is a family-run business, Fleur has been running it alone since her dad had a heart attack last summer. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, and the last thing she’d do is hurt me intentionally.
“Tell me how it went. I want to know all the details.”
My first reaction isn’t to tell her how the interview went. It’s to tell her about him. Part of me wants to tell her that I met a guy that I felt instantly drawn to, but there’s a bigger part that wants to keep him to myself. I don’t even know his name, but standing there with him, I felt more of a connection than I'd felt after months of dating my last boyfriend. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Instead, I tell her all about the shitty start to my day, going on to give her a glossed over version of how the interview went. I’m saved from going into too much detail by the ringing of my phone over on the counter. I jump up and quickly unplug it from the charger. I don’t recognize the number, but I swipe to accept the call anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Breeze?” the deep voice I already recognize asks. “It’s Keir Harmon here, from Flex.” My insides jump with nerves. This needs to be good news. Please be good news.
“Hello. Hi, yes, that’s me. Hi.” I’m fucking babbling. I shoot a panicked gaze at Fleur but, she just laughs at me silently.
“I wanted to thank you for coming in to meet with me today.” Well shit, that’s not good. I feel my shoulders drop. I wanted this job so badly. I paint a fake smile on my face. He might not be able to see it, but I feel the need to fake it anyway. He keeps on speaking, but I’m paying little attention, already thinking of where else I can look for a job.
“I appreciate you giving me the opportunity,” I say distractedly.
“So we were wondering if you’d be available to start next week?”
“I got the job?!” I squeak. I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a louder squeal from escaping. Holy shit, I got the job! Out of the corner of my eye I see Fleur throw her hands up in the air in a silent cheer.
I get myself together enough to tell him I'll start whenever he needs me to, all the while thanking him repeatedly. Making an even bigger dork of myself than I'm sure I already have.
By the end of the call I’m practically dancing with happiness. Fleur joins me, grabbing my hands and pulling me in for a hug.
“We’re going out to celebrate tonight!”
I don’t argue. I just don’t know if I’m celebrating the new job, or the fact that I’ll soon be working so close to the guy who’s been my mind way too much all day today.
Rolling over in bed, I watch Abel on the baby monitor that’s on my nightstand. He’s been awake for a few minutes, but he’s happy babbling away to himself for now. The last few nights have been brutal with him not staying asleep for long. We hadn't long found a routine that had him sleeping for seven hours a night, but the teeth he seems to be growing have thrown him off. I never realized how hard it would be to do this alone. Hell, doing it with a partner must still be exhausting.
I take advantage of his rare good mood and quickly jump out of bed and into the shower. One skill I’ve picked up since being a dad is super-fast showering. I’m in and out in two minutes. By the time I have him up and in a clean diaper, Abel is making it clear that he’s ready to be fed.
“I hear ya, bud,” I croon as we wait for his milk to warm. He looks at me with little lips turned down in a frown. He’s so fucking cute it kills me sometimes.
Once he’s eaten and dressed for the day, I pack up his stuff and drive him to my mother’s. Poppy is due to have baby number two soon, and Mom has been keeping both Abel and Chase while we work. I do feel some guilt whenever I drop him off, but she insists she loves her grandbabies and she’d be bored without them. I keep him with me as much as possible, but it’s not always easy to fo
cus on him and the gym at the same time. He deserves better than being stuck in my office for hours on end, and there’s no way I’d be happy to put in day care while he’s still so young.
After dropping Abel off, I make my way toward Flex. After avoiding the place for all those months, I’m surprised by how much I love being back there. Maybe I've gained some clarity since I've quit the booze, fighting, and partying every night. Whatever it is, I’m enjoying being back. Not only that, but Keir was right about us being ready to expand. We’re beyond ready for it. Our registration numbers are through the roof, and I’m maxed out with the number of fighters I can take on. The next few months will be a challenge with me trying to do as much of Abel’s care on my own and Keir adjusting to life with a newborn and a toddler. Neither of us will be able to put as much time into work as we’d like. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m grateful we have Lucy working with us. I’ve learned over the months to not let myself dwell on thoughts of her. I thought I'd struggle with seeing her so much, but it’s been easier than anticipated to put whatever it was I felt for her in a box and lock it up. We’re finally getting on, and I’m not ever tempted to dredge up old feelings. She’s moved on and is happy with her guy, and I’m happy concentrating on being a dad.
A few hours later and I’m in the ring, waiting for my fighters to show up. I’ve just got out of a meeting to discuss some upcoming fights that mean my schedule is about to get insane.
Fucking great.
The door opens and two of my youngest guys make their way toward me, both laughing and shoving at each other.