Bastard's New Baby (Roosters Book 3)

by Raisa Greywood

  The lights flickered on as the door opened, and Siobhan turned to give the woman her thanks, but she’d already walked away. Shrugging, she closed the door behind her and got to work.

  * * *

  Mandy’s pretty face was set into a sneer as she sashayed into his office, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She had enough makeup caked on that it was hard to discern a real expression on her.

  He would have liked to have seen a smile on the face of the blonde he’d nearly run down. She was a knockout, despite the fury in her poisonous green eyes. She rocked the half-drowned waif look, for sure.

  And damn, the woman had a rack to die for. He would have loved to see her in nothing but a corset and those fuck-me black stilettos. There was nothing finer than a little flesh on a woman, and she was built like a brick shithouse. She was tall, too. He liked not having to bend down to kiss a woman. His cock stiffened as he remembered those sweet, pink lips spilling the most deliciously profane words. He wanted to give that filthy mouth something else to do. He wanted to see those pouty lips wrapped around his cock, or maybe a ball gag.

  But first impressions counted, and he’d done a piss-poor job of it. There wasn’t much he could do to make up for nearly killing her, assuming he ever saw her again. She’d disappeared around the corner before he’d had a chance to get out of his car. There wasn’t a greeting card for, “Sorry I almost killed you.” That was definitely a flowers event. Jewelry might be better.

  Shifting in his chair, he readjusted his hardening cock and firmly put the image of that stacked blonde in nothing but rope and those shoes out of his head. He had to focus on business.

  “Your PA interview is here… sir.”

  Mandy’s breathy little girl whisper annoyed him, but he didn’t mention it. When she leaned forward, exposing surgically altered cleavage, he huffed out a breath and leaned away from her and the overpowering scent of her perfume.

  Women like Mandy were the reason he refused to consider a relationship. She would play the part of a trophy wife well enough, but he couldn’t imagine her skinny body in his ropes. And if he had to have a wife, he wanted someone with a fucking brain in her head. If women like Mandy were what he had to choose from, he’d almost rather be out of work.

  “Show her in, please.”

  Ignoring his order, she folded her lanky frame into the chair in front of his desk and crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up, baring a long thigh almost to her hip. “She’s in the bathroom trying to clean herself up. I guess she forgot to look both ways before crossing the street and someone almost hit her. I should have told her not to bother.”

  She stretched out a hand, checking her manicure, and thankfully not looking at him. What were the odds that there were two women in this town who had almost gotten run down on a Monday morning? He must have been a very good boy in a past life. Or maybe not. He scowled as he remembered his mother had recommended the blonde for an interview. Worse, he’d still be out a PA. And what were the odds some banging blonde in a rumpled suit would have the skills he needed?

  “I doubt soap and water are going to improve on things, Jack,” she continued. “We should tell her the position has been filled. She isn’t the sort of person we want representing McKenna Logistics.”

  “We, Mandy?” His voice was soft, but dangerous. “I don’t recall adding your name to the letterhead.” He missed his old receptionist, Lois, but she’d been unfaithful and left him for her grandchildren in South Carolina.

  He’d hired Mandy with his mother’s idea of an appropriate wife in mind, but had realized she annoyed the fuck out of him before she’d completed her first day of work. Well, if what she did could be called work. She didn’t take messages and dropped most of the calls she tried to transfer, but she did take two-hour lunches most days.

  Rachel had been another prospect, but she’d turned him down flat in favor of her dairy farmer husband. In his defense, he’d hit on her before their marriage. When she’d gotten pregnant, she’d become firmly off his menu. He didn’t do mothers or kids. The combination made his flesh crawl.

  “And I certainly don’t recall inviting you to address me by my first name, which, by the way, isn’t Jack.”

  Her face turned red with anger, and she lost the Marilyn Monroe drawl. “Excuse me? I’ve been working here almost…”

  He held up a hand, cutting her off before she said anything that might make him fire her. He didn’t have time to find another receptionist, especially with Rachel on leave. He looked down at the stack of paper on his desk, finding her résumé on top. Glancing at her name, he said, “Please show Ms. O’Malley in when she’s ready, and make sure there’s fresh coffee. She could probably use some after her mishap.”

  Mandy sniffed and tilted her nose into the air. “Of course, Mr. McKenna. Whatever you say.”

  * * *

  Siobhan glared at herself in the mirror. Unless she could find a good dry cleaner, her beautiful suit was a lost cause. She tossed the stockings into the trash and cleaned up her knees as best she could, stopping the bleeding with several bandages from the first-aid kit and wishing her skirt was long enough to cover them. God, she missed the monogrammed polos and black trousers of her old job.

  The rain had washed away what little makeup she’d put on, leaving her freckled and blotchy. At least her hair looked decent. The rain had tamed the frizz, and if she could get the interview over with before it dried, she’d be happy with it. She’d managed to wash the mud and road grime off her hands and face, and the little polyester shell she’d worn under the suit had rinsed clean.

  Nothing was dry, of course. She was uncomfortably sticky and the air conditioning chilled her damp skin, making her nipples pebble under the thin lace of her bra. If she got the job, she’d have to invest in some sweaters. The building was cold enough to hang meat.

  With one last swipe at her skirt, she left the bathroom and made her way back to the receptionist, but she wasn’t at her desk. She sat down to wait in a plastic chair by the door, taking the time to go over her notes and straighten up her portfolio. Papers had come loose when she’d dropped her bag in the street, but nothing had gotten wet, thank God.

  A photo of Andy slid free and she touched his sweet little face. He grinned widely, exposing his new teeth. He looked just like Susan when he smiled. She took out her tablet and opened the case. It didn’t appear damaged, and she set it aside without turning it on.

  A door slammed and she stood, readying herself for her meeting. She’d spent the last few days drilling herself on all things McKenna that she could scare up on the library Internet as Andy napped in his car seat at her feet. Unfortunately, the one thing she hadn’t been able to find was a picture of Jackson McKenna. Despite being one of the richest men in Ohio, the man seemed to have no social media images anywhere.

  The receptionist stormed into the entry, her eyes flashing angrily. Siobhan gathered her portfolio and blinked in surprise when the woman stomped up to her and waved a finger in her face.

  “Why are you still here? Your interview has been canceled and won’t be rescheduled. You’re a mess and we can’t have someone like you in this office.”

  “I beg your pardon?” What the fuck happened to small-town manners? Even in Chicago, she’d never been treated so rudely. And she didn’t give a good goddamn how rich McKenna was. There was no excuse for such unprofessionalism.

  “You heard me.” The woman gave her a nasty grin, and said, “Don’t let the door hit your fat ass on the way out.”

  “Oh, honey, you are out of your weight class.” She shoulder-checked the woman, making her stumble backward, and strode toward the closed door bearing a brass plate with the name “Jackson McKenna.”

  “Stop! You can’t go in there!”

  “Watch me.” The door hadn’t been latched, and she pushed it the rest of the way open. She glared at the receptionist over her shoulder as she walked in, stopping only when she slammed into a hard, deliciously warm chest.

  “I a
m so sorry…” Siobhan turned to face Mr. McKenna, and her mouth fell open in shock as she stared into icy blue eyes. A grin twitched his perfect lips as he rasped a hand over his stubbled chin. “Oh, fuck me. I’m out of here.”

  Chapter Two

  Damn, but she was slippery. Jackson caught her arm, but she twisted and pinched him before escaping. When he caught her again, she stabbed the heel of her shoe into his instep and was out the door before he could catch her. As she stalked away, he caught a flash of the red sole of a very expensive shoe.

  Ms. O’Malley definitely wasn’t homeless, and he felt like an idiot, which of course, made him madder.

  “God damn it!” He pushed a hand through his hair and spun to face his former receptionist. “Mandy, you’re fired. Pack your shit and get out.”

  “But you can’t, Jack! I’ve been with you for…” Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks, smearing the carefully applied paint.

  “Three interminable weeks, and I’ve gotten decent work from you for maybe half that.” He looked down the street to see if he could catch sight of Ms. O’Malley, but she’d vanished.

  He growled in disappointment and anger. “Aside from the fact that my name still isn’t Jack, you directly countermanded my orders. You were unforgivably vicious to a woman you don’t even know, and that is not the professional appearance we at McKenna Logistics want to present.”

  He felt not an ounce of guilt for throwing her words back in her face.

  “But she… Jackson, you can’t do this!”

  He stalked forward, suddenly furious. His mother was going to throw a fit and he was definitely out a PA. There was no way he was going to get Ms. O’Malley back now. “I was willing to put up with your lack of interest in doing your job. I was even willing to put up with your two-hour lunches and your illegible messages. I am not willing to put up with bullying in my own company.”

  The front door opened, revealing a uniformed security guard. His CFO, Matt, must have called him in. “Mr. Camden, please assist Ms. Stevens in the removal of her personal belongings. She is no longer employed here.” Ignoring Mandy’s angry screams and the applause from the cubicle farm, he stormed into his office and slammed the door, locking it for good measure. He wasn’t willing to deal with anyone while he had to call his mother.

  As he swiped at his phone to bring up her contact, a soft knock sounded, followed by the sound of a key in the lock. Matt was the only one with a spare, aside from Rachel. He set the phone aside and waited for his old friend to come in. In the years since Army boot camp, they’d always had each other’s backs.

  “If I wanted company, I wouldn’t have locked the door,” he murmured.

  Matt walked in and dropped an unfamiliar tablet in a green case on his desk. “Like a locked door has ever stopped me in the fifteen years we’ve known each other.”

  He sprawled in the chair across from Jackson’s desk. “I’ve been elected to thank you for finally firing Mandy. We’ve had a betting pool going on to see who finally decided prison looked good and shanked her in the bathroom.”

  “I thought it was just me.” He tugged at his tie, loosening its chokehold on his throat. “I should have fired her on her first day. Why didn’t anyone say anything?”

  “We all thought you were fucking her. She’s not my type, but…” He broke off and nudged the tablet across the desk. “The smoking hot blonde dropped this on her way out. She took the lead over Rachel in the betting pool when she smacked Mandy down and stormed the gates of your office.”

  “Okay. I’ll have someone courier it to her.” He wanted to deliver it himself, but he’d be lucky if she didn’t pith him with one of those deadly shoes.

  Matt shook his head. “No dice, man. That’s not going to get her back here. I was talking with your mother, and she’s some fancy event planner from Chicago who did Haruto Nakamura’s daughter’s wedding. She speaks Japanese.”

  “Oh, fuck me.” His mother had found him the perfect PA, and he’d fucked it up so badly she was going to kill him.

  “Yeah. If you don’t get her back, Mama McKenna is going to sink your ass in the river for catfish bait. She isn’t going to care if you have to go down on Siobhan in the middle of Marge’s on pot-roast night, and frankly, neither do I.”

  “All right!” He scrubbed at his face and caught a whiff of Siobhan’s perfume. It was something vanilla and sweet, like cookies and sex. “I’ll take it to her house.”

  “Take flowers. And maybe a car. I saw her getting out of old man James’s pickup this morning as I came in to work.” Matt stood and sauntered toward the door, pushing his glasses up his nose. “And for fuck’s sake, apologize to the lady!” The door slammed behind him.

  Jackson sighed and straightened his tie. He would look at Marge’s first. Reggie always hung out there in the morning. As he straightened his desk, a ping sounded from the tablet. He opened the case and swiped the screen to wake it up. There was an IM notification, but he swiped to minimize it.

  A reader app was open, holding every bit of his attention. He didn’t recognize the author or title of the book Siobhan had been reading, but he did recognize the classic Shibari corset on the cover model. His new PA had a naughty streak, aside from her filthy little mouth.

  Leaping from his chair, he strode to his office door and shouted for Matt. Lord knew he wasn’t a nice man, and the ideas that flooded his mind as he looked down at Ms. O’Malley’s tablet would see him burning in hell. But if his idea worked, he’d get everything he wanted.

  When Matt returned, he said, “I want to know everything there is to know about Siobhan O’Malley.”

  * * *

  Reggie dropped her at her door with his horrified apologies for not walking her to the building ringing in her ears. She trudged inside, hoping to find Andy in a good mood. Lila was never in a good mood, so she didn’t bother to hope for that. She sighed as she heard his angry screams coming from the kitchen.

  She slipped out of her shoes before shuffling toward the noise and stood in the doorway to watch. Lila was several feet away, glaring down at Andy as he threw his breakfast everywhere, his poor little face red from crying. Some of the fruit and cereal mixture made it into his mouth, but most of it was on the floor. And on Andy himself.

  “You do realize he isn’t old enough to feed himself with a spoon, right?”

  Lila jumped and spun around, her nose wrinkling when she saw her. “What happened to you? Did one of your clients toss you out before his wife came home?”

  Nope. Nyet, non, nein, não, iie. Just fucking no. She was done for the day. The next person who crossed her would end up eating pavement. “Get your skinny ass out of this house. I am done with your vile insinuations. I am done with your abuse and willful neglect of my nephew. You are no longer welcome in our home.”

  Lila drew herself up and straightened her pencil skirt. “Well! I never!”

  “Maybe that’s why you’re such a bitch. Get out of my house.”

  Eyes narrowing in anger, Lila said, “You’ll be sorry for this little display. Make no mistake about that, missy.” Without another word, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her hard enough to knock a picture of Dan and Susan off the wall. Siobhan heard her car roar as it sprayed gravel against the siding before racing away.

  Her shoulders slumped. She went to retrieve Andy from his high chair and begin the arduous task of cleaning up, wishing she’d had the presence of mind to catch video of Lila’s neglect on her phone. Even as the words had come out of her mouth, she’d known she should have tried to be more diplomatic, but it just wasn’t in her to be nice anymore. There were only so many times a woman could be called a whore to her face and not strike back.

  But it might have cost her Andy.

  She couldn’t think about it now. Her nephew was filthy and hangry, and the kitchen was a disaster. She glared down at her ruined suit. At least she was dressed for the work. By the time she finished her tasks, she was exhausted, but Andy was clean and fed, and fast as
leep in his playpen. She turned on the monitor and raced to take a shower, but a knock at the door interrupted her. She hurried to answer it, desperately afraid whoever it was would wake Andy.

  When she opened the door, she wanted to be sick. Kendra Leonard stood there, her Child Services badge on a lanyard around her neck. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry to do this, Siobhan. The judge has ordered Andy be given to his grandparents while we ascertain the state of your home. It shouldn’t be more than a few --”

  She leaned back against the door jam and slid to the floor, her head resting on her knees. “Lila is doing this because I yelled at her this morning. She refused to feed my nephew and called me a whore. His diaper wasn’t changed. My kitchen was filthy, and he was starving. I ordered her to leave.”

  “Do you have proof? That would be enough evidence to take to the judge.” Kendra’s nose wrinkled and she scowled. “Even if his wife is Lila’s best friend. Why he wasn’t forced to recuse himself is beyond me.”

  Siobhan nodded in agreement. “This is a small town, and I don’t think it’s a close enough relationship to force it.” She shook her head and continued, “Anyway, I was so mad, I didn’t think to record what I saw, and I’ve already cleaned up everything.” She looked down at herself. “Well, everything except me. Someone ran a red light and almost hit me on my way to a job interview. Obviously, I didn’t get the job.” She sighed and climbed to her feet. “I’ll get him for you. He’s sleeping.” She took a few steps into the house, but turned around. “Kendra, you have to check him every day. Lila doesn’t take care of him at all. He’s gotten diaper rash because she refuses to change him. Will you promise me that?”

  “It’s only for a few --”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes to hold them back. “You keep saying that, and it keeps happening. She isn’t going to give up, and I worry she’ll win. I don’t understand how no one sees she just wants his trust fund. Hell, I haven’t even used it to pay for his medical care! It’s his legacy!”