Boss Daddy

by Shanna Handel

  I loved Josie. And she did a pretty good job on the ranch. But, I had major reservations about her going full time, especially with me as her direct boss. Choosing my words carefully, I began my respectful decline. “Honey, I think it’s time you find what you are passionate about. Take some courses at college, get an idea of what you want to do with your life.”

  “I’m passionate about the ranch! It’s like my... home away from home. I practically grew up there and I love helping out with stuff. And, you know how much I struggled through school. I would flunk out of college and waste all of Mom’s money,” she sighed.

  It was true—I had spent many tearful afternoons at the kitchen table trying to help her through her homework. Josie was incredibly street smart and life skills savvy but she had trouble with learning from books. But working for me? Full time? “Josie, I worry about being your boss. I think I’m too lenient on you at times. It could cause... friction.”

  “I would do a great job. I promise. Please hire me,” she begged.

  “I need someone really organized,” I said.

  “I’m not like you, Louie. I don’t have a plan for my life and seventeen lists each step of the way. But I know I want this job. And that I’d be great at it,” she said.

  I hated to disappoint her, but I had to be honest. “You come in late sometimes. You leave a little early. You don’t dress professionally enough. And those tattoos, sometimes I don’t think they are very appropriate for weddings.”

  Her eyes became cold. “You don’t like my tattoos?”

  “I didn’t say that. But see, even this.” I waved my hands between us. “I can’t offer you constructive criticism without you getting angry.”

  Her face softened. “I see your point.” She bit her bottom lip, her brow furrowing. After a moment of studying her straw wrapper, she said, “What about this, Louie—you take me on a trial basis. I’ll get some more appropriate clothing—even long-sleeved if you want. I’ll be early, I’ll stay late. Give me one month and then make your decision. Could you do that? Just take that job posting down, tonight. Let me try the job out at my part-time rate, you can pay me by the hour, and in one month, if I do a bad job, I’ll find something else and you can post the job. What do you say? Huh? Pretty please?”

  I considered her face. She was eager, a hard worker—once she actually made it to the ranch—and the guests absolutely loved her. My resolve began to melt. “I have to talk to Hayes.”

  Her brows rose in surprise. “Okay—that’s okay. Talk to Hayes—put in a good word for me—then let me know ASAP, K?”

  I laughed. “Okay. I will. But don’t get your hopes up too high.” I had a feeling Hayes was not going to love this plan as much as Josie did.

  “I won’t. I promise,” she said.

  Though I was not eager to bring this idea up to Hayes, I was ready to crawl in bed with him. I would take the posting down and talk to him about Josie tomorrow at work. Tonight was for other, much more pleasurable things. I grabbed the check off the table. “I guess I’m paying, huh? Seeing as you don’t have a full-time job, yet?”

  “But maybe soon,” she smiled, hopping up from the booth.

  We would see.

  * * *

  A few days later, a very angry cowboy barged into my office. Hayes stood before my desk, eyes deep gray, jaw clenched tightly. His hands went to the buckle of his belt.

  Oh, dear. I had completely forgotten to tell him about Josie’s trial run. I gulped as he growled, “The job posting has been taken down. There had better be a very good reason for this, Louanne, or so help me, I am taking off this belt and you will be standing at your desk the rest of the—”

  I hopped up from my chair, rushing over to him. Stammering, I interrupted his threat—though I was very curious to see what that leather would feel like against my bare skin. “There is a good reason. I promise.” I forced my way into his arms. He stood rigid, putting his arms stiffly around me.

  “There had better be, little girl, start talking.”

  I kissed his cheek, his neck. I could feel the muscles of his body softening as I stroked his shoulders. “It is a good reason. I promise. I think I already found a candidate, so I took the job posting down.”

  He pulled away, looking down at me with a furrowed brow. “Who?”

  “She’s a cute little blonde. Vivacious, has great spirit. Works very hard when she wants to—”

  His gaze clouded over. “Does she happen to have a tattoo of a butterfly on her upper arm and one in the shape of the state of Florida on her forearm?” he asked.

  The look he gave me made me want to lie. I opted for a, “Maybe?”

  Hayes took my arms down from around his neck, placing them at my sides. “No way, Luna. Not Josie? You have to be kidding me.”

  “What? She’s my sister! And she is a good worker—”

  “When she actually shows up on time. No way, this is not happening,” he said.

  “But Hayes, hear me out. She knows she’s a risk and that it might not work—especially with me as her sister being her boss—so she made a plan,” I said.

  His brows rose in vague disinterest. “Josie Dixon has a plan?”

  “Yes. And it’s not half bad. Just listen.” After heaving a sigh, he gave me a nod. I continued, “I take the posting down. She works the job for one month—at her part-time hourly rate. At the end of the month, if we decide she isn’t the right candidate, she quits. What do you think?” I wrapped my arms back around his neck, smiling adoringly up at him.

  He considered my face for a long minute. “I’m against the plan. I think Josie can be a bit immature at times and you are much too lenient on her. This is a very busy time for us. I don’t think we can risk giving her a chance and losing a client if she doesn’t work out. But also, I trust your judgement.”

  “I understand—and share—all of your concerns. But she is my sister. She grew up on this ranch. She’s my family, and yours too. Please, Hayes?” I asked softly.

  Hope fluttered in my heart as a hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Tell you what. We try her out for one month. She makes any mistakes, and it’s your ass on the line.” He gave my ass a sharp slap. “Literally.”

  So, I would be getting spanked if Josie messed up. Great. That second doughnut I had turned down at breakfast now seemed like a mistake—I was going to need the extra padding. At least I finally got to tell my little sister she was in. Now, maybe her one thousand ‘did Hayes say yes yet’ text messages would slow down.

  * * *

  “Really? I got it?” Josie cried, clapping her hands. Her white-blonde hair was piled high on top of her head, the sleeve of her black tank top hanging down over her shoulder. She was not wearing a bra. Her favorite sweatpants hung down low around her hips, exposing her taut belly. She looked like what we Dixon women call a ‘hot mess.’

  What had I done?

  Feigning confidence, I managed a tightlipped smile and a, “Yes.”

  Her pretty brown eyes lit up. “Really, really?”

  Her excitement was contagious. Pushing away thoughts of my huge cowboy boss threatening to spank me if she messed up, I laughed. “Yes, really, really!”

  Leaping over the piles of clothes on her floor, she wrapped her arms around me, digging into my ribcage. She was strong for being so little! Her eyes shone as she released me, stammering, “Thank you, Louie! Thank you so much! I’m not going to let you down. I promise. You are going to be so proud of me. Just wait and see. At the end of this month you are going to hire me. I just know it. Tell Hayes thank you, too! I have to go text Colton. He’s going to be so excited.” She started to leave the room to get her phone.

  “Whoa—slow down, Josie. Why would you need to tell Colton? Couldn’t you just tell him tomorrow, at the ranch?” I asked.

  Her creamy complexion turned a pretty pink as she blushed. “Well, I just think he’ll want to know sooner.”

  “Why?” I demanded.

  Her hands went to her hair, nervou
sly patting at the rat’s nest that sat there. “Because we are... talking.”

  My stomach turned. “What does talking mean?” I asked.

  “You know... it’s just a little friend-y thing... like, texting each other. I had to get his number the other day for a friend that wanted lessons and you know it just kind of started this cute little flirtatious back and forth thing. I mean, we talk at work, but we’ve never texted one another. It’s so fun. I told him my plan about the job and he said he hoped I’d get it and that he would love for me to be on the ranch more,” she said.

  “How serious is this ‘little friend-y thing’ with Colton?” I was already worried about overseeing my sister. I didn’t want to also be wrangling her away from an onsite boyfriend when she was supposed to be working.

  Josie’s brows rose, her hands went to her chest in false innocence as she protested, “Not at all. I promise. Just a cute friend-y thing. You know how it is... like when you and Hayes used to work on the ranch together on breaks. Just some harmless flirting. I will not let my feelings get in the way of my work. I promise. I learned from the best—professional all the way!” Josie leapt in my arms, giving me another huge hug.

  I held her at arm’s length, looking her over. “Josie, if you’re going to be a professional woman, you’re going to need a new wardrobe. Let me take you shopping.”

  “Oh, goody! Let me just go throw on some jeans,” she said, bouncing off to her room.

  Despite my better judgement, I smiled. My little sister was finally growing up and committing to something. I just hoped I was strong enough to hold her accountable and help her succeed.

  * * *

  My decision to hire my little sister was further tested on our shopping excursion. Everything I suggest Josie turned down as ‘too stuffy, too loose, too old lady,’ or ‘too ugly.’ I tried not to let my feelings get hurt—all the clothing I had suggested I would wear myself—and kept focused on our mission.

  After buying cinnamon-sugar soft pretzels and lemonades to fortify ourselves, we found the perfect store, Charlie Rose. An elegant display of burgundy, pinks, and blacks greeted us, in young, chic cuts. It was the only store with clothing targeted at Josie’s age that didn’t look like it was suitable for working the pole at a bachelor party.

  Holding one of the suits out to get a better look at it, I said, “Josie... I think our problem was your size. Everything was like a tent on you because you’re so tiny.” I handed her the suit jacket and skirt combo. “Look—no shoulder pads in this one.”

  She took the hanger in her hand. “Why do they put shoulder pads in women’s suits, anyway? Why can’t woman look business professional without looking like a man? Who wants to wear a suit at all? They were invented for and tailored for... men. Let’s find something that screams, ‘I’m a professional woman. With a vagina and tits and just because I’m pretty that doesn’t mean I can’t get the job done.’”

  I laughed, telling her to keep her voice down. But, she was right. With Josie’s feminist rant playing on repeat in my brain, I scanned the store. Ten department stores and two thousand calories later, I found it. Hanging above the racks, the perfect outfit was on display. Grabbing her arm, I breathed, “Josie. There!” and pointed across the room.

  I drug her across the store. Signaling to the store clerk, I called, “Can you show us where that outfit is on the rack?”

  A young clerk with a gorgeous smile said, “Certainly,” and led us to a display in the back corner of the room.

  I picked up the soft, buttery black leggings from the table. “Feel these, Josie. They are softer than those nasty sweatpants you wear.” Glancing back up at the display, I confirmed, “You can be beautiful and comfortable.” I picked up a long burgundy sleeveless tunic. The material flowed like water between my hands. With the black leggings and a pair of strappy metallic heels, Josie would still have her sexy punky edge, but fit right in working a wedding. “This top is gorgeous. And long enough to cover up that pert little ass of yours. I love this color for you,” I said, holding it next to her face.

  “But it’s sleeveless. It will show my tattoos. Don’t you think I have to cover them up to be professional?” she asked with a wince.

  Josie’s tattoos were a part of her story. Like a roadmap of her life up to this point. Why cover up who she was? “No. I don’t. I want Josie Dixon on my staff. Her true self. Just dressed nicer. And... maybe brush that hair.”

  In classic Josie fashion, she stuck her tongue out at me. Then hugged me and whispered in my ear, “You are the best big sister in the world, you know that?”

  * * *

  Weeks went by and true to her word, Josie was everything I needed in an assistant. I couldn’t have asked for a better employee. When I showed her how to lay out the flatware, or hang ribbons, her brown eyes focused on the task. Her little pearly white teeth would bite into the flesh of her lower lip. She would nod, murmuring, “Uh huh, uh huh.” Then, she would take whatever I was working with out of my hands and repeat the action beautifully.

  She was the perfect assistant.

  There was just one hiccup. Colton.

  About three weeks into Josie’s trial period, Josie had a bad day. We were setting up Mess Hall for an Equestrian Brunch—horse enthusiasts were very particular, and everything had to be perfect. I was busy hanging horseshoes I had painted with a glossy white shellac. Josie was decorating six round tables for the event. Josie was quiet—which is extremely unusual for her. Tasks took her twice as long as normal. When I stopped to ask her if she was okay, I saw tears brimming in her eyes.

  “He has a girlfriend. He brought her on my ranch.” she wailed, throwing down the burlap ribbon she had been winding around the darling little silver glass horses I had bought for the occasion. (They had cost a pretty penny, but I would reuse them for a little girl birthday party the following week.)

  “Ah, well, technically, this is Colton’s ranch, honey,” I said, only half listening as I tied the final shoe from the false beam I had Hayes put in when he first came back on the ranch. I did so love to have décor hanging above the guests.

  She slumped down in one of the padded white folding chairs. Taking a horse in her hands, she twirled in under the light, mumbling, “But did he have to bring her here?”

  We did not have time for this. We especially did not have time to be wiping her fingerprints off my ponies. I gently took the horse from her hand, rubbing with a spare cloth napkin. I put him back in his place on the table and picked up the burlap. Unwinding it from its cardboard spool, I asked, “Well, did you tell him how you feel about him?”

  “Yes. That’s what is even more humiliating. He said, he said, he said... I was like a sister to him! That’s worse than him saying he didn’t like me at all!” She threw her head back, covering her face with her hands.

  “How is that worse?” I asked. I stood back to eye the tables. I gave a nod of approval—burlap, silver, and white were the perfect color combination for today.

  She sniffed. “Because it means he will never see me as anything other than a pesky little sister!”

  Recently, I had seen the way Colton looked at Josie, and it was not with a chaste, brotherly eye. His gaze lingered on her longer than it should. He smiled while watching her from across the room. She had a tight little body and his eyes openly admired it. Beyond lust, I had no idea if Colton had deeper feelings for Josie. “Maybe he just cares about you too much to risk messing up what the two of you have. You guys have always been close friends.”

  “I’d be fine with that,” she replied. “Kind of. But why bring this skanky—”

  “Josie.” I had to nip this in the bud. We had twenty women showing up in less than an hour. And it is never classy to call another woman a derogatory name.

  “Okay, okay—but why bring this... random... onto my ranch and flaunt her in front of my face! It’s uncalled for.”

  “I think we covered the fact that this is not your ranch, sweetie. And explain this to me... how is
he flaunting her?” I asked, sneaking a look at the time on my phone.

  Josie looked at me as if she was announcing a death sentence. “She comes for private riding lessons.”

  “Wait—she’s taking lessons from him? How did you hear they were dating?” I asked.

  She looked up at me sheepishly. “I didn’t. But I just know. The way she looks at him with her stupid doe eyes. And you should see how many times a lesson she touches him. She always—”

  I held my hand out to her. This had to stop. We needed to get back to work. And Josie needed to learn to behave professionally, no matter what her heart was telling her. “I’m going to stop you right there. As your boss, I am telling you right now that during your work day, your eyes need to be on your job. Not spying on Colton’s lessons. You got that?”

  She sighed in a way that told me she had been spying and she knew that I was right. “Yes.”

  “And stop jumping to conclusions, for goodness’ sake,” I said.

  Josie stood, gathering the supplies from the table and putting them away in my rubber bin marked ‘Horse Parties.’ When she spoke, she was calmer and her voice was soft. “But he walked her to her car the other day. You tell me that isn’t dating.”

  My heart went out to her. I’d be crushed if Hayes walked another woman out to her car. But I was also Josie’s boss and it was my job to teach her—despite her feelings—to be professional. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “Honey, I know it’s hard. But we work in a very close environment with the men we like, and we have to be—”

  “If you say the ‘p’ word, my head is going to explode, Louie! I swear I cannot hear that word one more—

  “Pussy?” I asked, trying to hold a straight face.

  My sister’s wide eyes snapped up to mine in shock. “Louanne Dixon, did you just say what I think you said?”