She pulled her phone out and looked at the screen, holding her breath even as she felt like the worst sister in the world.
It was Max.
With a huge sigh of relief and an actual smile, Jane declined the call and then texted him. Hey. What’s up?
Max was someone who never needed anything. Not beyond, “What do you think of this shirt?” or “Go with me to see Frozen II so I don’t feel like a creeper.” Those were things she could give.
Come down to Granny’s. A bunch of people are out tonight.
Granny Smith’s was the local bar. Yes, it was a play on Granny Smith apples, and yes, the last name of the family who owned it was Smith. The interior, like most businesses in Appleby, was decorated with an apple motif, and Granny’s specialty was hard ciders served in little wooden barrels.
Don’t think so. Sorry. I’m exhausted.
Trust me. You need this.
Maybe next time. She was already in her pajamas.
Her phone rang again. It was Max.
She frowned. If she picked up, he might talk her into stopping by Granny’s.
Then again, she was a little hungry, and it wouldn’t take much to slip on some jeans. She supposed she could have one cider while she waited for a pizza to go. Specifically, a small Squealer. All to herself. The Squealer was a pepperoni, sausage, ham, and bacon pizza, and she didn’t even pretend to apologize for how much she loved it. It was worth a clogged artery or two.
The call ended and he texted. Pick up.
She sighed and called him back.
“Get your ass down here,” Max said, far too loudly, when he answered.
“One cider, and I’ll order a pizza to go,” Jane said.
“Oh no, you have to stay tonight, babe. I think you need this.”
“Need what?”
“A night out. Some fun,” he said.
“I don’t think I’m in the mood.”
Not that you had to be at Granny’s. That was the nice thing. It was laid back and very come as you are.
“How is he?”
She sighed. She knew Max was asking about her dad. “Yesterday was a little rough. I need more Schitt’s Creek and to go to bed early.”
“Well, hey, it’s very hard to beat a dose of David and Patrick,” Max said of two of the main characters. “But I’m sorry.”
She smiled. She had really great taste in friends. “It is what it is.”
“It is,” Max agreed. “But I might have something for you that’s even better than Schitt’s Creek and a Squealer.”
Of course Max would know what pizza she planned to order.
“Hart of Dixie and strawberry pie?” she guessed. Because Zoe’s strawberry pie was harder to get than a Squealer. Even though the baker was one of her besties. She sold out of that pie every day, so if Jane didn’t get a piece in the morning, she was out of luck until the next day. Pie took longer than pizza. It was science. Or something.
“There is no policy against sleeping with the boss,” Max said.
Jane sat up straighter on her couch before she even realized what she was doing. “Excuse me?”
“Looked it up. And also talked to Monica in HR just to be sure. There are no fraternization policies at Hot Cakes. Employees can date whoever they want. Banging for everyone!” he announced. Again, far louder than necessary into the phone.
She winced and pulled the phone away from her ear.
Clearly Max had had a couple of beers already. Or four.
“And you looked this up and talked to Monica in HR about this for what reason exactly?” Oh my God, he’d talked to Monica in HR.
“About you and Dax!” Max laughed. “Of course!”
Well, now she probably had to stop by Granny’s. Because she had to kill her best friend and really, tonight, when she could bury the body in darkness, was probably better than waiting until daylight. Though she was really tired tonight. Digging a hole and dragging Max’s body to it seemed like a lot of work.
“Max,” she said through gritted teeth. “Did you tell Monica in HR you were asking about me and Dax in particular?”
“Of course not,” Max said, sounding perfectly sober suddenly. “But I did clarify that ‘no fraternization policy’ applied to bosses too.” He laughed. “I’m sure she thinks I have the hots for one of them.”
Okay, well, that wasn’t so bad.
“She did say that there could be power dynamic issues, blah, blah,” Max went on. “But I just wiggled my eyebrows and said, ‘I hope so’ and then walked out. And,” he said, totally serious now, “I do mean that. If anyone ever needed someone to just boss her into letting go and having an orgasm, it’s you.”
Jane felt her mouth drop open. This was Max. She should be used to him being very unfiltered. But this was… beyond. She felt her cheeks heat, and, well, the rest of her heat. Dax Marshall didn’t really seem like the bossy type, honestly. But putting him and “orgasm” in the same thought definitely had an effect.
“Max,” she said, trying to sound pissed off. “You stepped over the line.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, obviously not the least bit sorry. “But you needed to be yanked over that line, and if I had to go first and pull you with me, I’d be willing. That’s how good a friend I am.”
“I don’t want to go over this line.”
“Yes you do.”
“I really don’t.”
“You totally do.”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Well, hey, thanks for checking into that,” she said, changing tactics. “I will file that under ‘things I’ll never need to know.’ Right beside the info you dumped on me about sea urchins and about the best places for biscotti in Rome.”
“I already have my ‘told you so’ GIF ready for when you send me a selfie from Rome, eating biscotti,” he told her. “Oh my God!” His voice went up an octave. “Dax would totally take you to Rome! Holy shit, Jane! This could happen! He’d take you diving where you could see sea urchins too, I’m sure of it!”
She pressed a finger against the middle of her forehead. “Max,” she said calmly and coolly.
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m not going to Rome with Dax.”
“We’ll see about that.” He sounded way too smug.
And then, suddenly, a bunch of things clicked into place, like Legos snapping together. “Is Dax there with you tonight?” she asked.
Her stomach flipped and twisted at the same time.
“He sure is. And lookin’ good too,” Max confirmed.
Well… fuck.
“See you in ten minutes,” Max said.
“I really shouldn’t—”
But Max had already disconnected.
Jane sighed and squeezed her phone. Max knew better than to think this conversation was really over.
She tipped her head back and looked at her ceiling.
So there was no fraternization policy at Hot Cakes, huh? She supposed that shouldn’t surprise her. Employees had been dating each other as long as she’d been there. There were three married couples—they worked in different departments—that she could think of, and at least one of them had met at work. It was the major employer in a small town. It stood to reason that people would meet there, and occasionally anyway, get involved. And maybe fifty-some years ago it hadn’t occurred to anyone, but maybe now there should be a policy.
She should discuss that with someone. Like one of the new bosses.
And she might as well go down to the bar where he was hanging out with a bunch of people she knew and do it now.
That wasn’t “going out” with him. That was meeting coworkers for a drink. And talking about how employees shouldn’t date the boss.
Big difference.
5
Five minutes later, she slid behind the wheel of her car. She took a deep breath. And hit Josie’s number to FaceTime.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked when her friend answered.
“Just taking cookies out of the oven.�
�� Josie’s phone was resting on her phone stand on the countertop, and she bent and pulled a cookie sheet from the oven as she spoke.
Jane smiled. Josie was always baking. At the bakery all day long and then at home. She was the emergency cookie and bar and brownie lady in town. She always had some in her freezer for the moms who had a kid tell them, at eight o’clock at night, that they needed treats for their classroom… tomorrow.
It was a tiny side gig for Josie, and the parents in town with elementary-aged kids kept it a very strict secret. Zoe didn’t know and it killed Josie to keep it from her, but it was extra cash and it really helped the parents out.
It had started innocently. A recently divorced dad who had never navigated treat day at school had called her one night, desperate, and she’d happily baked for him.
Then a couple of moms had called two weeks later, begging for help with a last-minute bake sale to raise money for a little boy at school who had been suddenly hospitalized. Josie had, of course, been happy to pitch in.
Then a couple of moms had asked if they could pay her to do their baking for a church potluck because they just did not have time. Another had asked if Josie would do the brownies she needed for the football team’s tailgate because she was going to be out of town for work.
Every time, Josie made the treats and the moms put them in pans from home and passed them off as their own. Though every woman with kids between the ages of three and eighteen knew the truth.
It was a secret society of overscheduled moms, and Josie was their baked-goods dealer.
She drew the line at birthday cakes and other things people could get from Buttered Up, but last-minute treats or items for fund-raising were different.
It still bugged her that Zoe didn’t know.
“Do they need frosted or decorated or anything?” Jane asked of the cookies.
“Nope, just good old chocolate chip.”
“Great, then I need you to come to Granny’s with me.”
“Oh.” Josie paused with a spatula in hand. “Um.”
Jane smiled. “I know your hair is up. You have flour on your face. You’re in your blue fuzzy pajama pants and have your glasses on, but I need you.”
“What’s going on?”
“I might, kind of, want to sleep with my boss.”
Okay, well, there it was. Out loud. Out in the universe.
“Oh.” That was a much more interested “Oh.” Josie moved closer and peered into her phone.
“Yeah,” Jane said.
Josie smiled and sighed. “That’s so great.”
Jane caught herself smiling at her romantic friend. Then she frowned. “Wait. What? No, it’s not great.”
“It’s not? He’s one of Aiden’s friends, right?”
“Yes, Dax.”
“Oh, the fun one!” Josie said enthusiastically. “He’s so cute too. He’s got that smirky smile and that charm.” She sighed again. “God, you deserve that, Jane.”
Jane shook her head. “You’re supposed to talk me out of this.”
Josie blinked. “Why?”
“He’s my boss.”
“That’s hot.”
“That’s illegal.”
Josie laughed. “It is not. You’re both consenting adults. Unless he’s blackmailing you or something. Is he blackmailing you?”
“Well, no.” Jane felt flustered suddenly. “Okay, it’s not illegal. It’s unethical though. He’s my boss. There’s a definite imbalance of power. He could coerce me or threaten to fire me or something.”
Josie nodded. “Okay, that’s true. I mean, technically. You’re right. That’s not cool. But…”
“But what?”
“Well, for one, it’s you. You don’t want to be promoted.”
“Oh God,” Jane said. “I so do not want to be promoted.” Promoted might mean more pay, but it also meant more responsibility which meant more headaches.
“Exactly. And if he tried to fire you or whatever, you’d tell everyone about it, and that whole place would walk out. You know that.”
Jane thought about that. She didn’t think the whole place would walk out. But several would. She’d never really given anything like that any thought, of course, but Josie was probably right. Her friends at Hot Cakes would have her back. Just like she had theirs.
Dax and Aiden and the others would have no idea what to do.
Though Aiden would never let that happen. If she told him Dax was doing something like that, Aiden would throw him out. She knew that. She trusted Aiden completely.
But… she trusted Dax too. It was weird. She hardly knew him. But Dax would never make her job contingent on anything sexual between them. Or contingent on anything at all, other than her showing up and doing her work, as it should be.
“Or you could sue him for everything he’s got,” Josie said.
A jar of gummy bears and a beanbag chair? was Jane’s first thought, but that was stupid. He was rich. She could sue for part of his gaming company. Hell, she could sue for his part of Hot Cakes. Wouldn’t that be ironic?
“I so don’t want to sue anyone,” she said, feeling tired just thinking of it. Or walking out. Picketing. Protesting. Who had the energy for something like that?
“Well, and it’s Dax,” Josie said, waving that all away. “I don’t see him saying that you’re fired if you don’t sleep with him.”
Yeah, okay, that was true.
“It’s still the principal of the thing,” Jane said. “I can’t sleep with the boss.”
“All right, I’m with you,” Josie said. She started lifting cookies from the cookie sheet to the cooling rack. “I just…” She sighed. “Wouldn’t it be great? Just for a little while? To have some fun like that? Some excitement? Not the boss thing, specifically, but to be swept up by a guy you haven’t known your whole life? To travel and try some new things? Things we never see or get to do here in Appleby?”
Jane watched her friend through the phone. She smiled. Josie was a romantic at heart, and while she loved their little hometown, she, like everyone they knew, had spent her whole life here. As had her parents. And her grandparents. And all her aunts and uncles and cousins. Her older sister was settled down with her high school sweetheart. Her parents were high school sweethearts. Her grandparents had not only met in high school but had eloped at age sixteen, forging their IDs so they could get married before they were even old enough. They’d kept their parents from breaking it up by getting pregnant.
It had been quite a scandal.
A scandal that had resulted in seventy years of marriage, five children, and twenty-five grandchildren.
Josie loved all that. But she was also very intrigued by the idea of her handsome prince being someone she hadn’t met at age five and who could show her more of the world than Dubuque County, Iowa.
Her grandfather and father had wanted to show their wives more. They just hadn’t been able to afford to.
“So I should become his short-term mistress because he’s rich? Get him to jet me around the world and buy me expensive trinkets? Let him pamper me for a little while?”
Josie sighed, her spatula against her heart. “Yes.”
Jane laughed. “Come on.”
Josie grinned at her. “Okay, not because he’s rich. Just… for fun. A little adventure. A little excitement. Wouldn’t it be fun to take a carriage ride in Central Park or go to Griffith Observatory in LA or have a cozy, romantic night in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains, or stay in a bed-and-breakfast in Vermont?”
Jane wanted to hug her friend and would have if they’d been talking in person. Josie wasn’t interested in money beyond the idea of travel and having some new experiences. None of those ideas were extravagant nor did they require being a mistress for a millionaire. But they were things that Josie’s salt-of-the-earth, blue-collar dad had always wanted to do for her mom and had never been able to afford.
“So just something different,” Jane said.
“Different and fun,” Josie emphasized
. “And the pampering sounds pretty good. Massages, foot rubs, long bubble baths, decadent desserts I didn’t have to make myself…” She laughed lightly. “Or, you know, whatever turns you on.”
Jane grinned. “Wipe the flour off your face. Take your apron off. Put on some jeans, and meet me at the bar.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Josie said.
Jane smiled. She really did have good taste in friends. “Thank you.”
“But just to be clear,” Josie said. “I’m supposed to keep you from sleeping with him, right?”
Jane actually paused. “I think so,” she finally said.
“Okay.” But Josie didn’t sound convinced.
Yeah. Jane wasn’t so sure she was either.
Dammit.
Dax was shocked by the way his heart thumped when Jane Kemper walked through the door of Granny Smith’s.
Max had told him Jane spent Thursday nights with her dad, so he’d resigned himself to not seeing her. He’d been enjoying his time with the rest of the Hot Cakes employees that had come out tonight though. He’d bought a few rounds and some pizzas. He’d played a few games of darts. He’d learned at least two new facts about every one of them and met four spouses.
It had been a good night.
Now it was a fantastic night.
Because she was here. They hadn’t even spoken yet, but everything in him felt happier.
That was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him.
Because he was happy 90 percent of the time. He made the happiness happen, for himself and others. To have another person able to make him feel like that, so strongly, just by showing up, was new.
But he fucking liked it. A lot.
“So anytime you feel a little… hungry… just let me know.” Dax focused on the woman sitting on the tall stool next to him. He’d taken over one of the small round tables that was situated conveniently between the bar, the front door, the pool tables, and dart boards. That way he could see and greet everyone, no matter what they were doing, and could make sure everyone had plenty of food, drinks, and laughs.
“Hey, thanks, I’ll do that,” he told Danielle. She was one of his employees. A cute, bubbly blond who had come right over to thank him after he’d bought a round for the place. She’d been hanging at the table for about ten minutes now.
Forking Around (Hot Cakes Book 2) Page 9
