Coldhearted Boss

by Grey, R. S.

  “From who?”

  “Me.”

  My laugh is short and sarcastic. “You’d never give me approval for anything. In fact, I think you go out of your way to make my life difficult.”

  His brow arches. “So then we both agree that’s what we’ve been doing.”

  Making each other miserable, he means.

  I bite down on my bottom lip and shrug. “Let’s just say I never had any interest in learning how to play guitar before last week.”

  He grins then and my stomach clenches tight. I can’t help but remember what I did yesterday morning down by the lake—what I imagined him doing to me—and my cheeks burn with heated embarrassment. Fortunately, his next question thrusts me right back into the present moment.

  “Why do you want to stay here on the weekends?”

  He assumes I want to?

  Well, it’s probably good that he does. I’d rather not correct him. It would only open me up to another line of questioning, and I think a common rule of war is that you don’t give your enemy more information than is totally necessary.

  “It’s nice, quiet without you here tormenting me,” I say with a bored tone.

  “So you’re going to continue to do it even though I’ve asked you not to?”

  He doesn’t seem so against it now.

  I tip my head to the side, assessing him. “I don’t know. If it were no longer forbidden, maybe I’d suddenly lose interest.”

  He chuckles as he shakes his head, finally pushing off the doorway and turning away, leaving me there with my heart and mind racing after him.

  * * *

  Neither of us relents the following week. If anything, we escalate.

  Oh, don’t get me wrong—during the day, you’d only ever hear Ethan speaking to me in the same curt, professional tone he uses for everyone. I don’t talk back or utter a single word that could be misinterpreted as insolent. In fact, I’m even better at my job than I was in previous weeks because I’m starting to get the hang of the construction site. In short, I’m flourishing, and Ethan would be crazy to let me go. Even Hudson, Ethan’s loyal sidekick, informs me that it’s much better with me around, though I think that’s just because I keep his and Robert’s desk tidy.

  But all that prim-and-properness all day just means we have more energy for antics after quitting time.

  Ethan has begun doing leisurely workouts in the center of the cabin. Push-ups, sit-ups, anything and everything that works up a sweat and produces low grunts that remind me of sex every time I hear them.

  “You know there’s a whole wide world outside that cabin door,” I say, airing out my shirt while I lie on my bunk. “You can work out wherever you’d like.”

  “I’m fine right here,” he says, bringing his t-shirt up to wipe his brow.

  Rock-hard abs greet me, and I flush deeper before returning to my book.

  It belongs to Ethan. Thankfully, he brought back half a dozen paperbacks with him from Austin. Slightly overkill, but it was probably out of fear that I’d accidentally drown a few of them. He lined them up on the desk Sunday night and I perused them while he showered, proceeding to borrow the one that looked most interesting, a psychological crime thriller. He never officially offered to let me read it and I never asked, and yet when he sees me up here flipping pages, he doesn’t say a word.

  Brought on by his antics last week as well as his new fondness for cabin-calisthenics, I’ve decided it’s probably time to start burning him up with desire too. I shouldn’t be the only one having to splash cool water on my face every time he finishes a workout. And so, we slide into an even more vicious cycle.

  If before our game was to try to appear unaffected by the other person, now it’s morphed into Who Can Turn the Other On the Most. I “accidentally” leave the shower door open when I rinse off on Tuesday night. The door isn’t cracked so much that he can see me, just enough that the steam wafts out into the cabin and the sound carries easily: hands lathering skin from head to toe, water splashing against the tiled floor. It’s no surprise that when I cut the water and stroll out in a towel a few minutes later, he’s pacing like a lion.

  When I arch a brow, he turns and slaps his hand against the front door so it swings open. Heavy footsteps pound on the porch stairs and then he’s gone for the next hour. It’s the best hour of my entire life, alone in that cabin, smiling fondly at having bested him.

  The next day, I take scissors to a pair of jeans. It’s the pair that were too long on me anyway. Now, they’re denim cutoffs, and I’m every country boy’s fantasy come to life when I stroll around the cabin later. I wouldn’t dare wear them around the site. Outside these four walls, my goal is to assimilate. Here, though, in this cabin, I want Ethan dying a slow death.

  “Do you like them?” I ask as I turn in a circle in the center of the room, trying to catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. “I can’t tell. Are they too short?”

  He’s on his bunk, shirtless, reading. One arm is folded behind his head, the other holding the paperback up on his hard stomach.

  “That depends. Who’re you trying to attract?”

  His lazy words drip with disinterest and seem to hint that the “who” in that question definitely won’t be him.

  I roll my eyes and head for the door, needing air. I seem to be starved for it lately.

  Just before I step out onto the porch, Ethan’s voice cuts through the air.

  “Don’t wear those shorts around the camp,” he says sharply, like the authoritative tyrant he is.

  I’m just going for a short walk nearby, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  I smile as the door claps closed behind me.

  * * *

  The following evening, I ask politely to borrow Ethan’s phone. I haven’t reached McKenna or my mom since the last time he let me borrow it and I’d like to make sure my mom got the check I mailed home. Again, Ethan says I can use it, but I only have as long as it takes him to shower. Truly, he wouldn’t know chivalry if it bit him in the ass.

  “Fine, but make sure to wash every nook and cranny,” I say sweetly.

  He grumbles something I can’t hear and then shuts the door. Thank God. If he started doing what I do, leaving that door cracked even an inch…well, a girl only has so much willpower.

  I don’t dillydally once he’s in the bathroom. I sit down at the desk and call my mom, knees bouncing while it rings. She answers and I nearly explode with longing to be there with her.

  “Mom, it’s me, Taylor,” I say, unsure if she saved Ethan’s number to her phone the last time I called.

  “Taylor!” She leans away and shouts, “McKenna! Taylor’s on the phone!” Then she’s talking to me again. “How are you? I tried calling you all day yesterday but it never went through. I hate that I can hardly get in touch with you while you’re out there. It makes me worry.”

  “Did you tell her we got the check?” McKenna asks in the background.

  Relief floods through me. “So you got it then?”

  “Put it in the bank on Monday. Couldn’t have come at a better time. I wasn’t sure how we were going to buy groceries this week.”

  Guilt cuts like a knife. Here, in the mess hall, I have more food than I know what to do with most of the time. I feel bad that I can’t send some back to them.

  “Good. So you bought some groceries and stuff? Was there much left over? Any for the car?”

  “Well, there would have been had there not been a stack of overdue bills. I figured I better pay the electric and water company before they shut off service. Then there was health insurance, and McKenna’s doctor has her on a new prescription—”

  “I told you I didn’t need it! My old inhaler worked fine,” McKenna protests, never one to be a burden.

  “No, Mom, that’s fine. Really.” I don’t let on how disappointed I am that we’re no closer to getting the car out of the shop. “Her medicine is more important. I’ll get another paycheck in two weeks and another after that.”

>   “Are you liking it out there? Listen, I know it’s good money, but I don’t want you doing anything that makes you unhappy. From what Jeremy was telling us, it sounds like they’ve got you stuck out in the middle of nowhere. No hot water even!?”

  I laugh. “Mom, it’s really not bad, I swear.”

  She doesn’t reply.

  “I mean it!” I insist. “It’s actually kind of nice.”

  Still no answer. I pull the phone away from my face and realize with a roll of my eyes that the call dropped.

  Of course. Even with his signal booster, Ethan’s phone isn’t completely immune to the crappy cell reception out here.

  Suddenly the phone rings in my hand and I answer it immediately, bringing it to my ear.

  “Mom, sorry. The call dropped.”

  “Oh, hi!”

  The voice that replies is much softer and more youthful than my mother’s.

  My eyes widen as I look down at the phone and realize I accidentally answered a call from Isla. ISLA.

  Oh god. My finger hovers over the red END button but she speaks up again, nearly shouting.

  “Please don’t hang up on me! Hello?!”

  I pause, completely paralyzed with indecision. I feel bad. I don’t want to hang up on her, so I quickly explain, “Hi, sorry. This isn’t Ethan, obviously. I’m just using his phone for a second.”

  She laughs and it’s playful, not enraged. Odd considering if a strange woman answered my boyfriend’s phone, my first reaction would not be light giggles.

  “I know you’re not Ethan. It might come as a surprise, but you sound nothing like him. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you.” I nearly smile as she continues. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with him all week. God, he’s bad at answering his phone lately. Anyway, who are you?”

  “Ethan’s assistant.”

  “Of course! The pretty one!”

  I frown, confused.

  She hurries to continue, “Ethan hasn’t told me what you look like or anything. Don’t freak out. I just assumed you were pretty because of your voice. Are you? Pretty?”

  I look down at my oversized t-shirt. “Uh…”

  “And humble too! Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.”

  I stay perfectly silent, trying to figure out who this person could possibly be. I scratch out jealous lover.

  “Are you two friends?” she continues.

  “No!” I rush out. “No. Not really. In fact, I feel like he can hardly stand me most of the time, to tell you the truth.” Whoever you are.

  “And yet you’re answering his phone. How…intimate.”

  I worry I might have been wrong. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.

  “I swear it’s not like that. You don’t need to be upset with him over this.”

  “Upset?”

  “Yes, because…well—”

  “Oh! Oh, no no. You have the wrong idea. Totally wrong idea. I’m Ethan’s sister—twin sister, in fact.”

  I’m floored by this information. Ethan has family! A sister! In a mere moment, my brain generates a million and one questions. I want to know every detail of his childhood. Who wronged him? Who flushed his head in a toilet or stuffed him into a locker in middle school? Who made him into the callous man he is today?

  I’d get around to asking these questions if Ethan didn’t walk out of the bathroom in that moment wearing only a pair of workout shorts and towel-drying his hair with a rough hand.

  “Give me my phone,” he says brusquely.

  I swear the man takes the world’s fastest showers. He can’t stand the idea of me using his phone. He doesn’t trust me as far as he can throw me. No, that’s inaccurate—with those toned arms and muscular shoulders, he could toss me halfway to Africa. Better to just say he doesn’t trust me.

  “Now,” he bites out, stepping closer.

  “Is that him?!” his sister asks, gleeful. “Oh good, put him on!”

  “Okay, Mom,” I deadpan. “Good talking to you too. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye!”

  Then I hang up and toss him his phone, praying he won’t check his call log.

  Chapter 20

  Ethan

  “I talked to your lovebird last night.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Isla chuckles. “I called your cell phone trying to reach you and your assistant answered instead. You can imagine how excited I was to—”

  I hang up on Isla, suddenly furious.

  A second later, a text pops up.

  Isla: Did you just hang up on me or did the call drop? Either way, I didn’t get a chance to say we’re planning a Memorial Day Weekend trip to the campgrounds to visit you and see what you’ve been working on! Everyone’s in: Jace and Alice, Brody and Liv, Tanner…maybe Camille. I knew you’d say no if I asked you first, which is why I’m not asking. We’ll barbecue and camp out. It’ll be tons of fun!

  Ethan: No campout. No visit.

  Isla: Yes campout. Yes visit. Invite your assistant. She’s a lot nicer than you these days.

  Obviously, I’m getting nowhere with her, so I chuck my phone across my desk and stand. This week’s been crazy because we’re prepping for the foundation pour. There’ve already been a few hiccups, but Robert and Hudson have stayed on top of things and it should be smooth sailing into the weekend with no major issues to resolve before Monday.

  Well, other than the brunette currently acting like a thorn in my side.

  She’s outside with Robert and a few of the guys. She’s wearing a hard hat and a neon safety vest—the items I took from her on her first day, ones she apparently stole back.

  Robert says something and nudges her with his elbow, and she throws her head back and laughs. Every single man in that group stops what they’re doing and watches her, dumbstruck, half in love already. Even Hudson is a simpering fool around her these days. Robert’s the only one who treats her normally, and that’s because he’s three times her age and thinks of her as a daughter.

  I stomp down the steps of the trailer and make it halfway to them before Taylor notices me. Her smile fades and her eyes narrow with suspicion.

  When I reach the group, my booming voice makes three guys jump out of their boots.

  “I need a word,” I say, effectively parting the group in half.

  I don’t take my eyes off her as the guys slink away quickly, more than happy to find that my ire isn’t directed at them.

  Robert stays beside her. “Uh oh, what have you done this time?” he quips, shooting a teasing smirk at Taylor.

  She returns it with one that sends my heart into overdrive. “Oh, who knows. It could be anything. Yesterday, he found a pair of my underwear accidentally mixed in with his laundry, and you should have seen his reaction. It’s like he’s never seen a pair of panties before.”

  I was taken aback, that’s all. Can’t a man put away his laundry without having to come across a silky thong? So what if I stood motionless, holding it in my hand until Taylor walked out of the bathroom, saw me staring down at it, and quickly lunged over to snatch it out of my grasp.

  Robert doesn’t give me the benefit of the doubt though, whooping and hollering like he’s never heard anything half as funny in his life.

  I nail him to the ground with my gaze. “You done?”

  He smirks, wiping tears from his eyes. “Oh, just about.”

  “Taylor, you’re fired.”

  I have to try it, at least.

  That makes Robert double over in laughter yet again before he finally walks away and gives us privacy.

  Goddammit, what has happened to respecting the boss around here?!

  Oh right, Taylor happened.

  She’s looking up at me, all big eyes and flushed cheeks beneath that ridiculous hard hat. There’s a smile playing on her full lips. She didn’t believe the You’re fired line any more than Robert did.

  “I thought you’d be happy with me this afternoon,” she says, sounding sugary sweet. “I stole two cookies from the dessert counter
at lunch for you. They had the most chocolate chips out of any ones I could find.”

  “You answered my phone last night and talked to Isla,” I say, abrupt and curt.

  Her smile drops, face pales, and she rushes to reply, “Not intentionally!”

  “Right. I unintentionally answer someone else’s phone and talk to the person on the other end all the time.”

  Her pleasant mood sours with my harsh accusation—and it is harsh, but then she deserves it for snooping into my personal life, for pushing my boundaries yet again. It seems we’re always here: at each other’s throats.

  “I thought I made it clear: I let you borrow my phone so you could talk to your family, not mine. Find another phone to use from now on.”

  Her face turns into a mask of anger and I can tell her hand is itching to reach up and slap me. I wish she’d do it. Then I really could fire her.

  “And I don’t want you staying here over the weekend.”

  She stands there in silence, rage pluming off her like smoke.

  Her anger isn’t enough though. I want to make sure she’s taken my words to heart. I want her assurance that she’s going to obey me. For once.

  I step closer. “Have I made myself clear?”

  She whips the hard hat off her head and shoves it against my chest.

  “Yes sir.”

  * * *

  It’s no surprise that Taylor avoids me the rest of the day yet still manages to complete her work with unfailing accuracy. She’s not in the cabin by the time I’m getting ready to leave for Austin, and I get a wild idea that maybe I shouldn’t leave. Maybe I should stay and ensure she follows my orders, but I have no choice. I need to get back to Lockwood’s main office for a meeting I have in the morning with a prospective client. My partners have made it clear that I need to be present since I’m one of the main draws for them.