Unprofessional Bad Boys - Boxed Set (Contemporary Romance)
Page 36
I snort and playfully slap his arm with the stack of papers in my hand. “You’re such an idiot.”
“And you’re in love with him,” he muses, grabbing my arms to press a kiss on my lips. “Now who’s the idiot?”
“Fuck you,” I murmur, but I let him kiss me anyway because I’m such an idiot and I know it.
“Bad talking to your boss? That could get you fired,” he replies.
“If you wanted to fire me, you would’ve done it a long time ago. You know … back when we first had sex,” I murmur against his lips.
He smirks. “I don’t want to … but don’t force my hand, young lady. It might suddenly spank your ass.”
“Shhh …” I whisper. “Gillian might hear.”
“And then she’ll be even more jealous of you than before,” he says, making me grin.
I narrow my eyes. “I knew that’s what it was …”
He shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno. Don’t care either.”
“What else could it be?”
“As I said, she’s rather protective of me.”
“She acts like she’s your mother,” I say.
He frowns and pulls back, and I’m wondering where the hell my kisses are. I lean in, but he doesn’t allow me to kiss him. Instead, he walks back to his desk and sits down.
“What? Is it something I said?” I ask.
“No, no. I just thought I should get back to work,” he says, looking up at me. “Enough fun time.”
“Oh.” I nod. “Well, I came in here to give you this.” I place it on his desk. “It’s my marketing plan.”
“Cool, thanks.” He winks. “I’ll take a look.”
Suddenly, his phone rings, and he picks it up. “TJ Morrows.”
I sit down on the chair in front of him, waiting for him to finish. I hope it’s okay. I just wanna know what he thinks of the plan. I’m too anxious to wait, but if he wants me gone, I’ll leave, of course.
“Hey, Flynn. How are you doing?” TJ seems excited … or surprised. I can’t tell.
“Oh …” His voice is lower, and the look on his face changes. “What? No, that’s not true. Look, I’m sorry, okay? You know it’s been hard ever since Pops—”
He stops again, and I can hear the voice on the other end yelling.
“I’m doing my best here. I’m keeping things going. I’m not trying to do anything except my best; you know that,” TJ says, sighing out loud. I can tell he’s stressed out. “I’m really, really sorry. I know. I’ll go.”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should leave. I feel so out of place here, and this seems like a really personal conversation.
“No, I didn’t do it on purpose. Look, I’ve just been busy, okay? It’s not like you haven’t been either. When was the last time I saw you?” TJ’s yelling now. “That wasn’t my choice; it was yours. Can we just stop? Please? I’ll go, all right? Just name a time, and I’ll be there.” He grabs a pen and writes down something frantically. “Fine, I’ll be there. I’ll see you then.” He smacks the phone down and blows out a breath.
I don’t speak. I’m not sure what I can say. I know nothing of the situation, and I’ll probably only make it worse. But we can’t sit here in silence and ignore what just happened either.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently.
“No, I’m not okay.” In a fit of rage, he swipes his hand along the desk and throws off pens, clips, notes, papers … even my plan. “Fuck!”
I go to my knees and silently pick all it up from the floor, placing it back on the desk.
Suddenly, the door opens, and Gillian comes rushing in. “Is everything okay?”
I get up from the floor and pretend I was just talking with him.
“Everything is fine, Gillian,” TJ says with an annoyed voice. “Just … give me a few minutes, okay? I’ll call you when I need you.”
“Okay.” She makes a face but still turns and walks out again, closing the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” TJ mutters under his breath.
“It’s okay,” I say, brushing his arm briefly. “I’ll leave you alone for a minute.”
When I turn around, he says, “No. wait.”
I glance over my shoulder. “Is there anything I can get you? Cup of coffee, maybe?”
“No, just …” He holds up his hand. “Just stay.”
“Okay.” I sit back down on the chair in front of the desk. “I can do that.”
He nods a few times and gazes down at the wood, breathing out air like a bull. “Sorry about that.”
“It happens to all of us.”
“Not me,” he says, still not looking at me. “At least, not normally.”
“We all have our weak spot,” I reply. “I do too.”
“Hmm …”
I lean forward and place my hand on top of his. “If you wanna discuss it, I’m here.”
He nods again, licking his lips as if he’s preparing for something big. “That was my brother. Flynn. He called because … well …” He sighs, and his eyes flash to me from underneath his lashes. “My mom’s not well. She’s in a facility. She’s got advanced Alzheimer’s.”
“Oh … I’m sorry. That must be tough,” I say, holding his hand tight.
“Flynn’s mad because I haven’t visited her in a while.” He chews the inside of his cheeks. “And I know. He’s right. I haven’t. And I feel fucking bad about it.”
“It’s okay. It happens to all of us.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He pulls away from my grasp. “Who forgets about their mother? No one.”
“You didn’t forget about her, did you?” I ask.
“I didn’t, but I didn’t go to see her either.”
“But you had your reasons.”
“Reasons,” he repeats, spitting out the word like it’s poison on his lips. “I’m just lazy.”
“No, you’re not,” I say with a stern voice. “That’s not true. Stop beating yourself up.”
“I could’ve gone and visited her.”
“But you chose not to. There must be a reason.”
Again, that silent but powerful glance. Words aren’t always necessary to say what you need to say. And he does just that. He knows exactly why he hasn’t gone, but the guilt is still eating at him.
“You did what you had to do,” I say.
“To protect myself …” His eyes turn glossy. “But I do care about her. I love my mother.” When the tears start to fall, I rise from my seat and walk around the desk, hugging him tight.
“I know, TJ.” I shush him. “You don’t have to say it. I believe you.”
“But he doesn’t,” he growls. “He actually said I don’t give a shit about her because I haven’t checked in with him or Mom in so long.”
I rub his back. “He’s just afraid he’s losing you.”
“Fuck him.”
“No.” I squeeze his shoulder to make him look at me. “He’s your brother. You love each other. That’s why you’re both so mad.”
He grinds his teeth and looks away. “I only did it because I couldn’t focus on my work, and I couldn’t let go of my work. No way. This is too important.”
“You made a sacrifice.”
“How else was I supposed to concentrate on keeping the company running?”
“But now you feel guilty for making that choice,” I say.
He nods again, and I wipe away the tears running down his cheeks. “You can only make one choice in life, TJ. You made yours.”
“And now I have to live with the consequences, which is a mother who thinks her oldest son is dead.”
I bite my lip and pull him in for another hug. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
It’s quiet for some time as I hold him tight. His fingers curl around my clothes, and he buries his face in my chest, sniffing hard. I know the smell comforts him, and soon his breathing becomes much less ragged.
“Thank you,” he says as he looks up at me. “For being here.”
“That’s what good gi
rlfriends do,” I say.
I’m proud to belong to him and proud that he belongs to me. Because underneath all that fun and ridiculousness lies an emotional, sensible, and loyal man who I’m so happy I got to know. And now that he’s let me into his life, I can only feel grateful.
But I do hope he didn’t hear the word I said because I’ll be damned if I admit I like him that much.
“Girlfriend?” he mutters, raising his brow. Shit. I guess he did hear. “And here I thought you weren’t planning on becoming my anything.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I reply. “It still doesn’t mean you get to flaunt me around the office. It just means I decided I like you. That’s all.”
“Aww …” He makes a pouty face which immediately makes me wanna slap and kiss him at the same time. “So are you saying I can’t introduce you to my mother either?”
My lips part, but I don’t know how to respond.
I’m just wowed.
He wants to introduce me to his family already. That means we’re pretty serious. But the funny thing is, I’m not even sure I wanna say no.
Somehow, the idea of him introducing me as his girlfriend makes me feel giddy inside.
And that, in turn, makes me think, What the fuck is wrong with me?
But I guess that comes with falling head over heels with your boss.
You don’t get to decide what you feel … only what you do.
And what I’m doing right now is grabbing him by the collar and kissing him right on the lips.
He smiles as he kisses me back, murmuring, “Well, I guess that’s a yes then.”
I grin. “Damn right, it is.”
Chapter 23
TJ
We’re in the car together, driving toward my mother’s home. Well, home … more like a room. She shares the building with a bunch of other seniors, and nurses run around all day long. There’s no real sense of ownership even though she could say it’s ‘her room.’ Still, I guess it’s better than being out on her own.
I sigh as I stare out the window, mentally preparing myself. A hand curls around mine, and when I turn my head, I see Lesley smiling at me. She can be so kind. Like she really wants to help me feel better. I can definitely tell she cares about me, and it only makes me fall more in love with her even when I’m not supposed to. I guess there’s no stopping it. She’s quickly becoming one of the few people I trust. I just hope she won’t run off after seeing my family.
“You look worried,” she says.
“Yeah.” I shift in my seat. “I haven’t seen my mom in a long time.”
“It’ll be okay,” she says.
“But what if she’s mad at me? I should’ve been there for her,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “It’s not okay.”
“You had your reasons, and there’s nothing wrong with them. You can explain it to her, can’t you?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure she’ll understand.” I swallow and stare out the window again. “Besides, my brother will probably be there, and he’ll judge the shit out of me.”
“Maybe you guys just need to talk it out.”
She keeps staring at me as if she can look right into my soul, and it’s kinda scary. Am I that easy to read? Maybe she’s just become skilled at seeing straight into me. Still, she doesn’t know how bad it’s gotten between me and my brother. And I’d rather not discuss it.
“Maybe,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Why maybe? Why not just do it?” she asks.
“Because it’s complicated.”
“Life always is.”
“This is different,” I reply. “You don’t know what went down between us.”
“Tell me then.” The genuine look of interest on her face makes me wanna open up, but I’m finally in such a good space with her, and I don’t wanna screw that up.
“My brother and I just have our difficulties; that’s all.”
She snorts. “What kind of corporate bullshit sentence is that?”
I release her hand. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s not as easy as you think.”
“Yeah, it is,” she says, folding her arms. “It’s called talking things out. Like grown-ups do.”
“He’s not your brother. Why do you even care?”
“Because I care about you.”
I raise my brows. “Oh, really?”
A soft blush spreads across her cheeks. “Don’t pretend like it’s a big deal. It’s not.”
“If you say so,” I muse, a smile tugging at my lips.
“You’re my boss,” she adds.
“Uh-huh …” She can’t hide the fact that she likes me as more than just as a walking fuck toy. Nope. I’m not falling for that. Not that it matters because we’ve arrived at our destination. “We’re here.”
“Great,” she says, a little too perky as if she’s actually excited to meet my family. At least one of us is. “Where do we go?” she asks as we both get out.
“Upstairs,” I say, and I grab her hand. “C’mon.”
I take her with me, past the doors and into the building where nurses greet us. We state our names and reason for our visit. Then we go up the elevator to room fifty-five, where I find a label with my mother’s name on the door. In case anyone forgets.
These places always give me the chills. People go here because they can’t live on their own anymore, but to live here is not living at all. They’re ghosts. Forgotten members of society. No one can even remember their goddamn names.
I can’t even bring myself to knock.
A hand touches my back. “It’s okay. Take your time.” Lesley’s trying to comfort me, and even when I know it’s no use, I still appreciate the gesture.
I take a deep breath and grab the handle then knock on the door twice.
“Who is it?” my mom’s frail voice resonates.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and push the handle down, so the door opens softly. “It’s me, Ma … TJ.”
When I see her sitting in that chair, her frail body leaning against the wood like branches hanging from a tree, my heart sinks into my shoes. However, with Lesley’s fingertips pushing into the small of my back, courage surges through me, driving me to step forward and greet her.
“TJ … it’s so nice to see you,” Mom says with her croaky voice as I approach.
I kiss her on the cheeks. “Hi, Ma.”
She rubs my back, her fingers feeling bonier than I remember them to be. “My little boy. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m doing fine, Ma,” I say. “I just came to see how you were doing.”
“I’m okay,” she says. “I think.”
That last part is always what makes me nervous. Because that’s exactly the problem … she thinks, but she never knows for sure. It’s part of what makes her illness so difficult. She can forget things within minutes. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember where she is or how she got here. I hate those moments the most.
“And who’s this lovely lady?” she asks, already distracted by the sight of Lesley.
I beckon Lesley to come forward because she’s being a little shy and still hovering by the door. “Ma, this is my …” I can’t. I just can’t. Not because I don’t believe it myself, but because I don’t want her to forget.
“My co-worker.”
The initial smile on Lesley’s face dissipates, and she throws me a look that I try to ignore.
“Oh, how nice,” Mom says, holding out her hand, which Lesley shakes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Morrows.”
“Morrows? No, no, call me Lacey.”
Lesley throws me another unsure look.
“It’s okay; Ma prefers her first name.” I lean in to whisper. “She forgets the last one.”
With a look of realization, she nods.
“What are you doing here?” Mom suddenly asks. “Weren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I didn’t tell my brother when I was coming, and I’m sure he
wouldn’t just tell her a lie, so this must be one of her own ideas again.
I put a hand on her shoulder and say, “No, Ma, I didn’t mention a date.”
“Oh …” She seems confused again, so I decide to change the subject.
“Want me to make you a cup of coffee?”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you. All these nurses never give me any,” she mutters, clutching the blanket that’s on top of her. When I glance at the table beside her, three cups with coffee residue are sitting there. Again, the lies.
She can’t help it. She doesn’t know any better, and forgetting makes it impossible to blame her. But it’s also frustrating that I can’t ever tell her the truth. She wouldn’t believe me, even if I tried.
“Not needed.” The sudden booming voice coming from the kitchen area has me spooked, but then I realize who it is.
“Flynn?”
He walks out with two cups of coffee in his hand, setting one down next to Ma. “What are you doing here?” he growls.
“Hi to you too,” I say, turning to face Lesley, who’s half-shocked by the sight of my brother. I’m not sure whether it’s because of his entrance or because of his looks. He’s outdone me in the genetics department on the latter … but not on the charm. Obviously.
“Lesley, Flynn … Flynn, Lesley,” I say, shrugging. “Great to introduce you like this.” I grimace at my brother. “I told you I’d come visit.”
“Yeah, well … should’ve done it sooner,” he says, frowning at me as he sits down in one of the chairs to sip his coffee. “Ma’s been asking about you. A lot.”
“Do we have to do this now?” I say, sighing.
He raises a brow. “You know what I think.”
“Yes, and please don’t remind me.” I shake my head and enter the kitchen, yelling, “Les, want a cup?”
“Yes, please,” she answers politely.
“Who are you?” I hear my mother ask again, and I roll my eyes.
She’s probably talking to Lesley.
“I’m Lesley, ma’am. I work for your son, TJ. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Oh …” Ma sounds flabbergasted. Like she can barely keep up, despite being told who Lesley was before.
With a full head, I make some coffee, dreading the moment I have to step back into that room. I don’t fear it because I hate it. I fear it because the hopelessness of her situation fills me with incredible sadness. Whenever I see that lost look on her face, I just feel so powerless. It’s as if all our memories—the history of us and our family—is slowly being erased.