by Kayla, Mia
I’d basically set the plans for him to get laid tonight. Who knew what poor soul he had his sights on?
I had tried to warn off the countless interns and account officers who walked through Brisken Printing Corporation, but they still wanted him. Brad threw them one look, and they were all a forgone without-a-job conclusion.
Because canoodling between the sheets with the boss could turn the most professional women into the jealous and crazy stalker types, which usually ended up with them quitting and heading to the back of the unemployment line.
“What kind of flowers did you buy?” He leaned back on his chair and steepled his fingers by his lips.
“Roses, the kind I always order.”
“I want to change it up this time. Order me some peenees.”
My brow wrinkled, and I leaned in, clutching the iPad against my chest. “What?”
“Peenees. Remember, I told you about them the other day. The front desk had an arrangement of peenees.”
My boss loved to hear himself talk, and I was on the receiving end of that one-way dialogue, but I filtered out all things not work-related, and that didn’t require my attention.
What the hell is he even saying?
“What kind of flowers?”
“Peenees,” he drawled out the word as though elongating the E would make me understand him. He sounded like he was saying penises.
Why will I have to order that? Isn’t she going to get that later?
He almost looked annoyed, so I made him repeat it again.
“Sorry, what was that again?”
I bit my lip and schooled my features. If he was going to make my life hell, I could at least have a little laugh of my own.
“Peenees.” His voice was softer this time as though he were unsure. “Oh, for shit’s sake, come here.”
He began typing on his keyboard, and when I approached behind his desk, I expected to see a bunch of penises on his screen, but he typed peenees flowers in his search engine, and peonies came up.
Like a smart-ass, I pointed to the screen. “There’s an O there. It’s pronounced as pee-O-nees.”
He visibly frowned. “Real funny,” he deadpanned. “Do I look like a florist to you? Just add those flowers to the order.”
“Okay, will do.” I smirked, stepping around his desk.
He waved a hand, dismissing me. “Thanks. Wish me luck tonight.”
Brad didn’t need luck. He’d get laid, and he’d lose interest. It was his MO. And I’d hear about it all the next day because he was a sharer—but only to me, it seemed.
“Make sure you pick up my lunch at Klypso,” he added.
“Already ordered. Is that it?” I lifted an eyebrow.
The sounds of him typing on his keyboard echoed through the room.
“Yeah.” He didn’t even lift his head from the computer.
He was in fine form today. I tried not to roll my eyes as I slowly shut the door and made my way back to my desk.
This is just a job, I reminded myself.
Charles—his brother, the CEO of Brisken Printing Corp.—and Mason—his younger brother and the VP of finance—had hired me over two years prior. They had interviewed me, and I had been told that the job had two main functions. One: keep Brad’s schedule organized and on track. And two: do not sleep with him. It was two requirements that I had to adhere to.
Before me, Brad had gone through six secretaries within six-months. But his inability to keep it professional and their inability to say no were affecting their work, and his schedule was disorganized. It didn’t help that some of those secretaries had gone on a warpath when Brad decided to move on. And he always moved on.
He changed women like he changed the channel—quick and wanting to know if there was something better.
I had been in a serious relationship with Jeff, so that number two rule was a no-brainer. It would not happen. Following rules was built into my DNA, and organization was one of my strong points.
And, although super fine, Brad was not my type.
I was kinda geeky. I embraced the romantic nerd in me. I loved playing Pokémon Go, I read a dangerous amount of romance novels, and I was the biggest Harry Potter Head.
I couldn’t exactly picture Brad watching a marathon of everything on the Hallmark Channel or all seven Harry Potter flicks.
Brad tended to like the girls with the A, B, Cs—ass, boobs, and curves.
And I was five-two, petite, and flat-chested with dark brown hair and glasses because I couldn’t function without them.
It was a match made in secretary-boss heaven. Purely platonic.
No secretary in the whole Chicagoland area made as much as I did. Seriously. I was overpaid but under-laid, which was fine by me. And it was worth it. My friends who had full-time jobs worked a part-time job to make ends meet. Me? I had a one-bedroom condo in walking distance from work in downtown Chicago, and I could only afford it because of my job. Every year, I got a substantial raise and a bonus. It was as if they were increasing my pay exponentially every year I continued to keep my legs closed.
The Brisken brothers paid their employees well, and keeping my panties on meant it would stay like that.
* * *
Brad
Maybe Charles was right. I was already tired of the dating game.
Looking at myself in the hotel bathroom mirror, I ran one hand through the top of my dark hair and let out a tired sigh. Tired dark brown eyes stared back at me.
My younger brother, Mason, was in a five-year-long relationship with the epitome of a gold-digging she-devil. When I thought of their relationship, it only confirmed what I never wanted in one of my own.
But my older brother lived in romantic bliss with his second wife, reminding me again how a good relationship should be. Seeing Charles and Becky together changed my mind about relationships.
I wanted what they had and what my parents had—a real relationship with someone I could connect with.
“Come back to bed, baby,” Olivia cooed when I stepped from the bathroom. Her tone increased in pitch, the way women tried to sound cute but weren’t.
I toweled off my wet hair and body, slipped on my black pants, and worked to button my shirt. I stared at her long and hard, trying to force a connection between us, but it simply wasn’t there. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Early morning meeting.”
She’d seemed prettier earlier, but maybe that was because I’d been drinking.
That wasn’t true. I hadn’t had too much to drink. I had purposely remembered to pace myself.
I averted my gaze, disappointment seeping deep into my skin. I had known this night would come. I was hoping it wouldn’t, but it had with the previous girls I dated. Like clockwork, after sex, I lost interest. Not because the sex was bad. It was good, as all orgasms were, but that closeness I had been hoping for—that familiarity—wasn’t there.
This was our sixth date. I’d thought dragging it on would be sweeter, and we’d have more of a connection, but I guessed not.
It wasn’t only Olivia’s red hair and deep brown eyes that had caught my attention; it was also her sharp wit and intelligent, investment banker self. Now, her red hair had lost its sparkle, and her brown eyes, which had once seemed endless and deep, were now shallow. I’d spent time getting to know her, wanting to know her, yet something else was missing.
She pulled the sheets to cover her breasts and sat up straighter on the bed. “Are you really doing this right now, Brad?” Her once-strong tone turned whiny.
This was the part I hated, but honesty was better than leading her on.
“I really do have to get to work early.” I walked closer to the bed and sat at the edge, finishing off the last button. “You are welcome to stay till the morning. Breakfast will be delivered.” I took in her tousled red hair, her once-piercing brown eyes … but there was nothing. No spark. No sudden urge to kiss her. Only an unbearable itch underneath my skin to get up, leave, and shower again at home.
“You
’re not going to call me.” Her tone was resolute, soft, her high-pitched, trying-to-be-cute voice gone.
This was better than the previous psycho woman who had destroyed the hotel room when I left, but it still sucked.
I sighed resolutely, trying to add some feeling into it. “You’re way too good for me, Olivia. I’m too busy, I would never pay you any attention, and I’m an asshole.”
All of this was true, but really, she wasn’t the right girl for me. Maybe I was looking for something that didn’t exist. My parents had been married thirty-five years, and when my father had met my mother, he said he had known. It was in the way she’d made him laugh. He’d just known that she was it for him. I knew Olivia wasn’t it. And the woman before her hadn’t been it and the woman before that.
Will I eventually find someone I want to be with? What if it isn’t in the cards for me—to have what Charles or my parents had?
My gut clenched at the thought.
She leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to cringe.
“But, if you change your mind, you will call me, right?”
“Of course.” I forced an even smoothness in my tone, knowing I wouldn’t, and I kissed her forehead one last time before standing up to leave. Relief flooded me once I was out of the hotel.
I hopped into my Aston Martin and headed home to the suburbs. I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight, not at my condo in the city. That wasn’t where I called home anyway.
As I drove and the city lights disappeared behind me, my shoulders slumped. I should’ve felt energized. Olivia was a freak in the bedroom, but all I felt was fatigue in my bones and an undeniable desire to knock out on my bed. All this work when dating—the wining and dining and the sex—was tiring. I didn’t mind the sex, but it seemed as though I were on the hamster wheel of dating. I’d pick a girl, repeat the cycle, and hope that it was different this time, that I’d like a girl long enough to keep her. But finding her hasn’t happened yet and round and round the cycle I went.
I hated when my brothers were right, and they were; I was already tired of the game.
I waved at the guard at our palatial estate to open the gates and drove up the winding road to the mansion that my parents had built and expanded over the years.
Thinking of not having them here anymore always sent an ache to my chest, an unbearable tightness in my lungs. It was almost four years ago, and it seemed as though tragedy had hit us one after the other during that time.
Charles’s wife, Natalie, had died when giving birth, leaving him to raise two girls by himself. And my parents asked Charles to move in so they could help with their grandchildren. Charles was an absolute wreck during that time, unable to go to work or properly care for the girls. It was one of the hardest times we’d gone through; we were all afraid he wouldn’t break out of his depression.
And, just when life had gotten back to normal, a drunk driver had taken my parents’ lives. It had gutted us, and we’d never been the same since.
But family was of the utmost importance, so we all tried. Mason and I had moved in to help Charles raise the kids. Though Mason and I had our places in the city, we were sleeping in our Barrington suburban house we’d grown up in because family always came first in the Brisken household.
As I entered our house and stepped into the silence, an agonizing sadness took over me. I took the stairs two at a time and slowly opened Sarah’s door. I could see the moonlight shine a light over my niece’s small twelve-year-old frame, and I released a soft sigh, knowing she was safe.
Next, I tiptoed into Mary’s room. The night-light on the wall illuminated her room in a faint amber glow. The princess decals on her walls smiled down on my sweet niece. I walked closer and took in her petite features, the way she hugged the elephant that I had given to her when she was three, and the way she slept with her mouth slightly ajar. Damn precious. I kissed the top of her head and brushed the back of my hand against her cheek.
Dads weren’t supposed to play favorites, but no one ever said anything about uncles.
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Also by MIA KAYLA
Let me help you find your next read…
The Brisken Brothers
Boss I Love to Hate - An Office Romance
Teacher I Want to Date - An Opposite Attract Romance
The Torn Duet - Rockstar anyone?
Torn Between Two - Book 1
Choosing Forever - Book 2
The Forever After Series
Marry Me for Money - Forever After Book 1
Love After Marriage - Forever After Book 2
The Scheme - Brian’s book -Forever After Book 3
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Candy Factory Playlist
Thank you to Yasmin Bueno from my BFF group for making this playlist especially for this series.
You can find the complete playlist HERE
Here are some of the songs on the list.
CANDY - Doja Cat
CANDY SHOP - 50 Cent
SWEETENER - Ariana Grande
LOLLIPOP - Lil Wayne
THE SWEET ESCAPE - Gwen Stefani
CANDYMAN - Christina Aguilera
Acknowledgments
Another book! YAY!
First and foremost—Thank you God for continuing to fill my mind with ideas and giving me this opportunity to follow my dreams.
To the husband who loves me unconditionally—Thank you for taking the kids when I have to write. This book would not be here if it wasn’t for you.
To the kids—Thank you for your love of reading. I hope you can read my books one day when you are older and be proud of your mama.
This book is dedicated to my BFFs in my reader group. Almost a year ago to the date, I posted a picture of a candy wall. My brother had just started working as a computer tech at a candy and factory. One of the perks of working at the candy factory is that he gets unlimited candy and chocolates. My six year old has six cavities to prove it.
Who could have guessed that a whole book could come to life from one post.
Thank you for telling me to write this story.
Thank you for the inspiration.
Thank you for the playlists.
Thank you for the names of the characters.
Thank you for it all.
I appreciate my readers so so much.
To my beta readers—Alyssa, Aisha, Elizabeth, Emily & Norma. Thank you for giving this a last look to catch any last minute mistakes.
To my tour groups, Ena and Shauna—Thanks for promoting this book and sharing the love.
To my blogger friends and readers—Thank you for always supporting and sharing the love of my books.
To my cover designer, Najla—You are one talented designer. Thanks for your patience in bringing this cover to life.
To my author friends that sprint with me, encourage me day in and day out, I heart you. You know who you are.
To my sounding board, my friend, my editor—Kristy. I appreciate our late night and weekend calls. Thanks for helping me make each book the best it can be. I heart you big time.
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