Coldhearted Boss

by Grey, R. S.

  “Next!” one of the recruiters shouts.

  The line moves and we’re only a few people away from the front now.

  My hands start to tremble, and Jeremy notices.

  “You okay?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

  I nod, but I’m not…really. A strange sensation grips hold of my spine and I swear I’m being watched. No shit, Sherlock. You look like a doof. I glance over my shoulder, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, just a bunch of guys shuffling around in line, bored. Some of them are chatting amongst themselves. Some are on their phones. One guy is ferociously tearing into a cinnamon roll, and I think I like him the best of all. If I get hired, I hope we work together.

  Jeremy nudges me forward as the line moves and when I turn back around, my attention catches on the trailer behind the tables where Lockwood Construction staff is presumably watching the events of the morning take place.

  That’s why I feel like I’m being watched—we probably all are.

  Before I know it, I’m at the front of the line, heading toward a recruiter who looks like he’s ready to call it a day. I don’t blame him. He’s dealt with dozens of guys already and he doesn’t even look up right away, just asks for my ID and application while he continues typing on his laptop.

  “Name?”

  “Taylor Larson.”

  He confirms that’s the name on my ID and application then continues typing, filling in things like my date of birth and address, asking me to clarify the name of my current employer since my handwriting is so bad. Then he turns back to my ID for some other piece of information and stalls, hands hovering above his keyboard, no doubt finally noticing my photo. Was it really so important that I wear my hair down to the DMV that day? No one on Earth would confuse me for a dude in that photo.

  His eyes cut up to me and then narrow, studying my face. I sit perfectly still, waiting. Hoping. Prepared to call his bluff. I know he’s about to say something like, Uh, lady? Scram and stop wasting our time, but then someone walks up behind him. He’s a short, squat guy with a thick beard, wearing a Lockwood Construction shirt. He leans down and whispers something into the recruiter’s ear. The man behind the table nods quickly and reaches for my application without hesitation. Then the bearded guy turns on his heel and climbs the stairs to the trailer so he can disappear inside once again.

  “What was that about?” I ask, more paranoid than ever. There’ve been no whispers in ears about any of the other applicants, at least none that I’ve seen.

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” he says with a clipped tone.

  I laugh. “Oh, well…that sounds slightly ominous.”

  He doesn’t find me funny.

  “You know you’ll be the only female on the crew,” he says, stamping one of my forms with a green check and then shoving the papers back in my direction along with a sterile cup. “The only female staying in the bunkhouses too. You must really need the job.”

  I frown, having a hard time keeping up. “What do you mean ‘bunkhouses’?”

  He holds up his hand, looks over my shoulder at the line of people behind me, and shouts, “Next!” so loudly that I get the gist. If I have questions, I should direct them elsewhere.

  Chapter 6

  Ethan

  “There’s a ton of guys out there,” Hudson says, standing at the window and peering out at the parking lot. He’s tapping the windowpane with his finger like he’s actually performing a head count. It’s annoying as shit. “Yup, over a hundred, though I think I missed a few.”

  Good God, if he tries to start over with his count, I’m going to break his finger off.

  Ignorant of the daggers I’m aiming his way, Hudson goes right on rambling about the turnout, and I go right on ignoring him. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of it so far this morning. I’m sitting at a desk in the trailer, working, and Hudson should be doing the same seeing as he’s my assistant project manager for this build. Off the top of my head, I can think of five things he should be doing right now, none of which include standing idle at the window.

  “Have you called to confirm the builder’s risk insurance is active?”

  “I did that yesterday,” he replies, easy breezy.

  “What about dumpsters? We’ll be starting demo first thing on Tuesday.”

  “They’re being delivered Monday. I’ll be there to make sure they’re in the right spots.”

  “Excavators?”

  “Already on site.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  He turns and smiles.

  Hudson’s only a few years out of college and nearly as annoying as he is helpful. We didn’t even have a job listing posted when he walked into the Lockwood Construction office and asked to speak with one of the partners. Of course, that didn’t happen—we’re busy guys—so he came back the next day…and the next. In the end, I had no choice but to give him an internship, which he quickly finagled into a full-time position.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” He starts laughing, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes to get a better look at whatever’s caught his attention.

  I pound away loudly on my laptop, hoping to get the message through his thick brain: Stop bothering me.

  “Holy shit. Either that’s the hottest dude I’ve ever seen or it’s not a dude at all.”

  I frown, stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I stand up and go over to look at the person he’s referring to, he’ll have been successful in distracting me. If I don’t look, my curiosity will eat away at me.

  With a reluctant sigh, I push up to stand and make my way over to the window.

  “There. You see him?”

  I see a sea of recruits, none all that noteworthy.

  “There, in the blue baseball hat.” Hudson points. “Hold on, wait until he turns.”

  I spot the guy, but he’s facing the opposite direction, glancing back down the line behind him. Even still, I can tell he’s a pipsqueak, basically half the size of his peers. It doesn’t help that his clothes are four sizes too big.

  I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it’s a kid trying to pass himself off as legal. We’ve had that happen a few times in the past, but at the least those guys looked eighteen. This kid hasn’t even gone through puberty yet from the looks of it.

  The guy finally turns when the line shifts forward and his buddy nudges him. He lifts his head, the brim of his hat no longer hiding his face, and right then, a fist collides with my stomach.

  I know those eyes.

  I know those lips.

  I know that face.

  I. Know. That. Face.

  The shock leaves me completely immobile. Then, just as quickly, adrenaline seizes hold of me. My blood pressure skyrockets. My heart starts racing. I can barely believe it. I never thought I’d see the girl again and now here she is, in line to get a job working for my company…pretending to be a guy. Oh, it’s too good.

  “See what I mean?” Hudson asks. “There’s no way that’s a dude.”

  My brain is working overtime, trying to figure out what I want to do with this gift. Yes, gift. In the month since I first encountered her, I’ve been unable to push her out of my mind. My inability to forget about her has only made the wound she inflicted on my ego fester. I don’t know why she’s proven unforgettable. Sure, there’s the possibility that our searing kiss in the bathroom left its mark on my memory, but more likely, my pride wants some kind of resolution.

  “Look at those lips.” Hudson is still talking. “No, I refuse to believe that’s a guy, because if it is…” He scratches his neck. “Well, I guess I might be into dudes. Who knew?”

  Without a reply, I forcefully push him toward the door of the trailer.

  “I want you to make sure that guy gets hired.”

  He trips over his feet trying to match my pace.

  “Why?” He turns back to look at me. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  I open the door and move to shove him out, but he leaps down the first few stairs just in tim
e to avoid my “gentle” nudge, which is for the best. I’m not trying to hurt him. Much.

  “Go.”

  He holds up his hands in defeat. “Okay! Okay!”

  And then he’s out the door and I’m back at the window watching the girl in the blue baseball hat sitting at a table with a recruiter. Hudson rushes over to whisper something in his ear and just like that, she’s hired.

  I know I’m not handling the situation the right way. I should drag her down to the police station and report her crime, let the authorities take care of her—I’m sure she’s wanted for a multitude of other offenses—but something about that course of action doesn’t feel right. Maybe I want to handle my own problems. Maybe I like the idea of toying with her a little, teaching her a lesson. Maybe my pride has finally found a way to seek resolution in the form of retribution.

  I feel like the big bad wolf setting a trap.

  I almost feel bad for her.

  Almost.

  Chapter 7

  Taylor

  “You didn’t say anything about bunkhouses when you told me about this job!”

  Jeremy deflects the punch I aim at his shoulder and manages to continue driving just fine. “That’s because I didn’t know about them, but I actually think it sounds fun.”

  “Fun?!”

  Another punch dodged.

  Now he’s holding me at arm’s length to keep me away. My puny arms can’t reach him. Stupid wing span.

  “Yeah. I mean, it makes sense. The jobsite is an hour and a half away from Oak Dale, even more since your trailer is on the other side of town. Driving back and forth every day would waste too much gas and too much time. Besides, they’re giving people the option. You can either stay in the bunkhouses or commute every day.”

  “Well, you’re my ride and you’re staying there.”

  He smiles wide. “So then problem solved. What’s there to worry about?”

  Oh, I don’t know…everything?!

  This is how Jeremy explained it to me: Lockwood Construction is building a luxury resort on the old grounds of Pine Wood Camp. They have the resort laid out so that the new hotel complex will be built over the existing stables, obstacle course, and meeting hall because those areas all have lakefront views. The bunkhouses we’re supposed to be staying in will eventually be turned into luxury cabins, but that phase of construction won’t happen until much later. Thus, until then, they’ve given the crew the option to live in them while we work.

  “You of all people shouldn’t want to do it. When will you see Khloe?”

  I think I have a very convincing argument until he shrugs nonchalantly.

  “On the weekends. As it is, I’m too busy working the late shift at the mill to see her much during the week anyway. Nothing will change except for my paycheck—or have you forgotten that part?”

  I cross my arms and glare out the window. Of course I haven’t. I might not think it’s a good idea to go camp in the middle of the woods with dozens of gruff construction workers, but the money is too good to walk away from, not to mention I’ll have Jeremy there as a buffer between me and the guys.

  “Well I don’t know if I can leave McKenna during the week like that. Who’s going to make sure she gets her homework done?”

  “She’s a good kid. You worry about her more than you need to.”

  “Who will cook dinner?”

  “I think she’ll manage to make her own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches just fine.”

  Wow. Okay. Harsh, but true.

  “Still…I don’t think it’s a good idea. For other reasons…”

  He shrugs. “Then don’t do it.”

  Wait—he was supposed to convince me otherwise. I thought that was what we were doing here, a little routine where he goads me into this so I can blame him when it all goes up in flames.

  I turn to face him, brows furrowed. “You don’t think I should?”

  He shakes his head. “Eh, I’ve thought about it. The work will be hard, and it’ll be hot out there in a few weeks when summer hits. Better just keep working at the hotel. At least that’s air-conditioned.”

  I know exactly what he’s trying to pull and yet my pride still rears its ugly head.

  “So you don’t think I can do the work? That’s what you’re saying?”

  He gives me a teasing smirk. “Wouldn’t want to get splinters in those dainty hands of yours.”

  Of all the insufferable, misogynistic…

  Right. Well, it should come as no surprise that when Jeremy drops me off a few minutes later, before I close the door and stomp into the trailer, I lean back into the truck and tell him very matter-of-factly to pick me up on his way to the jobsite on Sunday evening.

  I guess I’m going camping.

  * * *

  My mom and sister cried a lot as I packed a duffle bag full of necessities. There I was in our tiny bathroom, trying to decide how many rolls of toilet paper I wanted to bring with me (just in case) when McKenna came up behind me, wrapped her skinny arms around my middle, and squeezed me so tight my dinner threatened a second showing.

  “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  I patted her hand, trying hard not to chuckle. “You know I’m not really moving away, right?”

  Her little sniffles did the answering for her.

  Meanwhile, my mom leaned against the doorframe doing a poor job of wiping at her cheeks to hide her tears. Between the two of them, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a puddle at my feet.

  “Jeremy will be coming back on the weekends to visit Khloe, so I’ll get a ride with him,” I assured them. “With school and work, weekdays go by so fast anyway. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  McKenna shook her head back and forth against my shoulder blade. “Not true. I’ll notice.”

  I try to push the memory of her sad voice out of my mind as Jeremy puts his truck in park. It’s Sunday evening and those of us who’ll be staying in the bunkhouses are arriving to get the lay of the land so we can hit the ground running tomorrow morning.

  I’ve grown up in East Texas—a part of the state known for its logging industry—my whole life and still, pockets of deep forest like this amaze me. Outside the truck’s windshield, pine trees grow as far as the eye can see, soaring so tall and mighty they look like they’ve been here since the dawn of time. Underneath their branches, the forest floor is covered in dense green foliage. Any paths that might have wended their way through the trees while the camp was up and running are gone now, stolen back by nature.

  Jeremy opens his door to jump out and I follow suit, grabbing my bag and making sure my hat is in place. We talked about it on the drive and both agreed it’s a good idea for me to continue wearing the hat and clothes he lent me for as long as possible. If everything goes as planned, I’ll find a position that doesn’t require too much brawn, keep my head down, and work. Sure, there’s a good chance the guys will start to notice I’m not one of them, but hopefully by then, I’ll have been a part of the crew long enough that it shouldn’t matter.

  We walk past the long row of cars toward a clearing in the woods. Up ahead, an old wooden sign marks the entrance of Pine Wood Camp, but flowering vines have wound their way up the posts, concealing half the painted letters. The rest are dull and faded. Our boots crunching fallen leaves seems like the only sound for miles.

  “Kind of creepy,” Jeremy says, throwing me a smile over his shoulder.

  I think it’s cool. We’ve only been outside walking a short while and already, I know this place could get into my soul if I let it. The air is crisp and cool. The smell of the trees is nearly overwhelming. Okay, forest, now you’re just showing off. There’s a reason so many cleaning products come with a “pine fresh” scent, but they don’t come close to replicating this. You can’t. There are too many undercurrents: damp earth and wild jasmine and blooming honeysuckle.

  Maybe this won’t be so bad, I think just before we come upon the first signs of the old camp and my fleeting optimism flie
s right out the window. There’s already a ton of guys here, more than I thought would be staying during the week. Apparently, a lot of them agreed driving back and forth was a waste of gas, but that means there’s no way Jeremy and I will have our own bunkhouse. I know it was kind of delusional of me to think that was an option, but it’s the only way I could convince myself to get into his truck back in Oak Dale.

  I don’t want to sleep in a room with a dozen guys I’ve never met!

  Where will I change?

  Where will I shower?!

  Jeremy must notice my hesitation based on the fact that I’ve stopped walking forward and am now actively retreating back toward his truck.

  He rushes back to wrap an arm around my shoulder and nudges me forward. “C’mon, before you throw in the towel, let’s go check out the room situation and we’ll figure out what to do from there. I swear it won’t be so bad.”

  It is so bad.

  Since stupid Jeremy had to have dinner with Khloe before we left Oak Dale, we don’t exactly get the cream of the crop when it comes to sleeping quarters. Fortunately, there’s still a bunkhouse with two beds available. Unfortunately, the beds are on opposite sides of the room from one another. When I drop my duffle onto my bed and turn back to look for Jeremy, I can’t even see him there are so many bunk beds in the way.

  My only hope is that a very clean, very quiet man will be sleeping above me, but based on the gentleman sitting on the bunk to my right, I’m not sure that will be the case.

  He’s currently putting every ounce of energy he has into hocking up a loogie before he spits it into an empty cup he drops on the floor near my feet. I nearly gag. When he’s done, he returns to his activity of choice: sharpening a rather large hunting knife. When he sees me staring, he offers up a sneer that includes what I can only describe as a breathtaking row of teeth. Truly, they are breathtaking in that the stench wafting from his mouth is making it very difficult for me to draw a breath.