I bet no one expected an asshole player like me to settle down to the point where I would be singing like that. I wouldn't have believed it myself, had someone told me previously. But, as Carolina says, life has a funny way of changing plans on you right when you least expect it.
I can't say I mind this change in plans one bit. It wasn't expected, but I wouldn't trade any of it for the world. Not my sweet, sexy Carolina. Not our beautiful little girl. But I'll let Carolina tell you about her, because Carolina is the happiest, proudest mother I've ever seen.
Carolina
A few months later, Garrett and I brought Calliope Grace Mack into the world. She weighed in at a tiny six pounds, four ounces, and she was perfect. She even had Garrett’s little dimple on her chin. Once she was old enough to travel, Garrett and I married at the church in the town where it had all started for me.
Martha Grecco catered it, and Erin was my maid of honor.
“I told you you were in for new beginnings,” Martha said, nipping Calliope’s cheeks as she kissed my own. “I’m so happy and excited for you, Cari.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve always done for me, Martha,” I told her, hugging her second in the receiving line, after only my own parents.
Madilyn, Katie and Ruby were my bridesmaids. (Claude stood up on Garrett’s side as a groom, along with my friends’ husbands.) Madilyn and Ruby’s children babies served along with Calliope as our pint sized ringbearers and flower girl, pulled in a tiny wheelbarrow by Garrett’s cousin’s child who is ten. It was the cutest sight you’d ever seen.
Garrett's brother Bob came from Albuquerque to be his best man, and even though his mom didn't come— both of them said it was better off if she didn't— I think I've slowly helped them mend fences, to heal some of the hurt that was keeping Garrett back from being the best person he can be.
She did send a card from her new assisted living home, which Garrett smiled about before tossing into the trash. Hey, it's a start, and everything should start somewhere.
I’m glad that the law firm is going well and glad I don’t have to worry about him being a player anymore. It’s clear as day for everyone including me to see that he is more than a little smitten with only two women now— me and our daughter.
I’ve decided to go to law school. Ensconced in studying for the LSAT exams, it is all happening for me, even while nursing little Calliope. And I love it. I wouldn't trade any of it for the world, even though I hadn't planned for things to turn out this way.
As a young girl, I had always envisioned my life with Jake, our perfect town, and our perfect two kids. It didn’t turn out that way, however. A divorce, a move from my beloved home town to the big city… Nothing had turned out the way I’d planned, not even the perfect job or the perfectly harmless office romance.
Truly, I didn’t even have my child the way I’d planned. She was born via emergency C-section. I wasn't proposed to like I’d always dreamed. Nothing, nothing had gone exactly as planned. Life didn’t turn out as I had always visualized. Life happened on my terms, however, and I’d have it no other way.
I’m glad Jake and I didn’t work out, or else I’d never have Calliope— or Garrett. I never even would have gotten the job I enjoy. (I’m back working with Garrett again, and I love working with my friends at the firm. But I still help Karen out in a pinch, and I’m grateful for all she did for me).
I would have stayed an insecure shell of a person instead of branching out— with Garrett’s help, and Erin’s too, although she would laugh at me for telling her that— to become the woman I am today.
They say never mix business with pleasure. I was always warned by those women who had come before me, “When it comes to romance at the office, stay clear of it. It can only turn out badly.”
Except for Madilyn, Ruby and Katie. They knew that love can be found anywhere, even at the office.
And as for everyone else’s advice to steer clear of love at work, well, that may be true. I'm sure I'll be giving the same advice to my own daughter one day, and I'm sure she'll rightfully turn around and say, “Mom, no offense, but you're a huge hypocrite. What about you and Dad?”
Still, it's sound advice and worth doling out, even if some people— including myself— don't always listen to it, but Calliope wouldn't have been here if I had.
She just had a feeding with her amazing dad. I’m on my way to take the LSAT exam, and next week we close on a new house. We.
I have a beautiful family, an amazing sex life, and the most beautiful baby girl. Could it have been more perfect? Yes. But then it wouldn’t have been just like it is right now.
An unorthodox office romance led me right to where I am today. The perfect imperfection of that serendipity is not to be analyzed.
Besides, I gave up the internal long ago, the day I married Garrett Lipton. Now, I just relax and enjoy life on its own terms. It’s a whole lot better that way than when I overanalyzed everything inside my head.
And Garrett makes it easy, with his amazing physique, his great bedroom skills, and his kind words and actions. I had wanted to tame the playboy boss, and that’s exactly what I did.
And even though it took an accidental pregnancy to get us here, I believe we were meant to be together. Thank goodness I had taken the job at Marks, Sanchez, Reed and Mack, or else my fate never would have changed for the better, and I wouldn’t be married to my boss, with whom I’ve found a very happy ever after.
THE END.
Subscribe to Jules’ News and Sizzling Hot Reads Newsletters
and get a free book exclusive to subscribers.
If you have missed any books in the Always, Boss Box Set, they’re included in this edition for a limited time as bonus books. Enjoy!
Yes, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance (Always, Boss Book # 1)
Copyright 2017 Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1 – Madilyn
A shiver runs through me as I step out of the elevator and into the open foyer of the Law Firm of Mark, Sanchez & Reed. It’s not just because the air conditioning is on full blast to combat the dry August heat and overcompensate to the point where the air inside feels chilly. It’s also due to a mixture of excitement and fear that is coursing through my veins.
And horniness. There’s definitely a little horniness mixed in there and coursing its way through other parts of me as well.
“Welcome, Ms. St. Clair,” the receptionist says, standing up and coming over to greet me.
He’s every bit of a proverbial tall, dark and handsome hotty but his perfect hair and impeccable fashion taste— he’s wearing a bespoke suit and tie that puts my carefully chosen skirt suit to shame— signal that he’s gay, damn it.
“I’m Claude,” he says, with what I swear is a slight French accent, “and I’ll show you to your temporary office.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I shake his hand and begin to follow him. As we pass the receptionist desk I note a framed picture of another man kissing Claude on the cheek. I’m happy for him but sad for me that my suspicions are confirmed.
It’s not like you could sleep with the receptionist at your brand new job, I think, chiding myself.
I’m on a mission. I need to have sex.
But not with anyone at work. I’m not that stupid.
“Did you say temporary office?” I ask Claude, willing myself back to reality.
“Yes,” he says, leading me down the spiral staircase. “It’s right this way.”
“What happened to…”
I trail off momentarily. I had wanted to say “my office,” but that sounds presumptuous.
“…the permanent office?” I finish.
When I’d interviewed here, one of the firm’s named partners, Cameron Sanchez, had showed me an office he said would be mine if I ended up getting the job. It was a large office with an impressive view of the Sandia Mountains and I’d been eagerly awaiting the chance to decorate it and make it my own.
“You do ha
ve an office but that wing is in the process of expansion,” Claude says.
“Expansion?”
Am I getting an even bigger office?
“Under construction,” he says, with an awkward shrug.
It’s obvious that Claude is just as confused as I am. The poor guy was only assigned to give me the bad news and show me to my “temporary office” and here I am badgering him with questions.
As we head down to the next floor it also becomes obvious that I’ve been temporarily housed with the paralegals in a cubicle area of a large shared space in the middle of the floor.
“Here’s your temporary office,” Claude says, and hightails it back upstairs. “Sandy will help you get set up.”
I wish I could call out after him that it’s not nice to pretend a cubicle is an office and then run away once the truth comes out. But he is so damn cute that I’ll let that one slide.
A tall blonde woman with frizzy hair says, “Hi, I’m Sandy. Paralegal extraordinaire. Welcome to ‘Cubicle Hell,’ as it’s known around here.”
“Ha.”
I half- smile at her, not sure what to say to that that would sound appreciative of her humor yet not sound insulting to the firm. I finally remember to introduce myself.
“Madilyn St. Clair,” I tell her, shaking her hand warmly, although she doesn’t return my effort very enthusiastically.
“You’ll just work here until your wing is ready,” she says.
“And how long will that be?” I ask her.
She shrugs.
“No tellin’.”
We’re in the middle of an area bordering what looks to be a somewhat busy intersection for firm traffic. People pass us by and look at me with curiosity.
One of the passersby is an overweight guy in a dumpy looking suit who sneers at me and says, “Good luck moving in before Christmas. And welcome to Marks, Sanchez & Reed, where the newest associates are obviously the least priority.”
“Don’t pay Steven any mind,” Sandy says, rolling her eyes. “He’s a senior associate who’s not going to make partner. He’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
She walks away without saying goodbye or telling me what I’m supposed to do now. I sit down on the pathetic excuse of a computer chair and try not to look as dejected as I feel.
Today is supposed to be my fresh start. My bright new beginning.
I’ve dumped the ex, started a new job and vowed to live a more fulfilling and exciting life. Which includes having sex for the first time ever.
I try to turn on the computer but it won’t start up no matter how many times I make the attempt. Out of embarrassment, I was trying to ignore the bustling people walking past me but now I realize that no one else even seems to know or care that I exist.
The first day of my new job is supposed to be the scary and exciting part but as I sit and stare at the obviously defunct computer, it dawns on me that I had no reason to shiver when I first got here. Nothing noteworthy is happening today.
I can’t believe that just a few minutes ago I arrived for my first day as an associate lawyer, bright- eyed, bushy- tailed, ready to learn and eager to please, only to find out that there’s no room for me.
Sure, I’ve heard rumors about associate life. Every law student does. When you’re a clerk, still in law school but working for the firm over the summer, the partners wine and dine you, anxious for your commitment to work for them if you’re lucky enough to get a permanent offer.
I’d spent my summer clerkship at a different firm— almost, but not quite as, reputable as Marks. The first law firm had made me an offer to be a permanent associate after graduation, but I worked my ass off during my third year of law school and I’d gotten my GPA up to Marks caliber.
Even though I’d achieved my goal of getting an associate offer at the best firm in Albuquerque, now I’m wondering if I’d only won some kind of booby prize. The lack of respect sure seems to take a nose dive for those moving from the summer clerk level to the new associate level.
Someone walks by and dumps a bunch of files on my desk and then says, “Oh, you’re not the new assistant?”
I look up to see an older woman in horn-rimmed glasses with her hair pulled up into a bun. I blink and realize I recognize her from my interview. It’s Gloria O’Malley, one of the equity partners.
I stand up, flattered that she’s talking to me.
“Ms. O’Malley, I’m the new associate lawyer—“
“Oh, I was looking for the new assistant,” she says, barely looking down her nose at me. “I think her name is Melinda, which caused some confusion. When she gets here, ask her to start sorting these files alphabetically, will you?”
She walks off in the same direction that Sandy had, leaving me to stare in disbelief at the mountain of files discarded on my desk.
Wow.
So this is how it works now.
I guess this is my introduction to life as a law firm associate. And apparently I have a lot to learn— even if it’s how to be ignored and do nothing all morning.
Chapter 2 – Madilyn
For the past hour I’ve been in my new cubicle, trying to learn about the law firm’s client file server and “brief bank.”
Mike, the IT guy, had set me up with a new computer after I’d discovered the one I had been given didn’t work. Then he showed me the brief bank file and told me it’s a repository for templates other partners and associates had worked on, and that I’m expected to use it to write motions and other pleadings. I was happy to learn something of value.
Then Mike ran off to solve the latest technological crisis that a much more experienced partner was undergoing. There’s definitely a pecking order around here.
Suddenly, my cell phone rings.
Damn you, Jimmy.
My very recent ex-boyfriend knows better than to call me on my first day of work. And my desire to avoid relationship drama was the main reason I’d broken up with him before the start of my new job.
I’m reminded again that nothing is going right today. But then again, I wonder, what else should I expect?
It’s only my first day on the job, or I could say it’s only my first day at my new career. Or if I really want to rub it in, I could say it’s only the first day of the rest of my life for which I’d been carefully planning since I was about twelve years old.
I rush to hit “ignore” on my phone, but not before someone walks by and says “Ahem.”
I look up to see the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on frowning down at me. He has sandy brown hair that hangs over his ears. Hazel eyes that are still sexy even though they are shooting me a very disapproving look. And tall, broad shoulders and a matching chest that make me want to lay my head down on it and ask him to make this crazy day stop.
He’s quite a bit older than my normal tastes would gravitate towards— he looks old enough to be my father. But that, like everything else about him, suddenly seems surprisingly sexy.
I remind myself that I’ve thrown my old tastes out the window. My old tastes landed me wasted years stuck in Inertia Hell with Jimmy (which is even worse than being in Cubicle Hell by myself). My new tastes land me in Fantasy Heaven with this Mystery Man, whoever he is.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly tell him.
“Cell phones are not allowed in this area,” he says, with a stern voice that makes me immediately want to say yes sir.
So I do.
“Yes, Sir.”
I have no idea why I say it other than as a natural reaction to his authoritative tone, because from the looks of things I don’t even think he’s a lawyer. He’s wearing khakis and an Oxford button-down shirt but it’s slightly open and I wish I could unbutton the rest of it.
He looks both rugged and serene, like he just got done going for an easy jog around the block or perhaps flying a kite on a far-away beach. He looks out of place, yet confident in looking out of place. And he makes me want to be in that same place with him.
“No need to
be sorry, just don’t let it happen again,” he says. “You are free to step out to make calls at your leisure but this area is not for chit chatting on cell phones.”
“Yes Sir,” I say again.
He raises his eyebrows at me, as if pleased to hear my answer.
“Sir, I’m—” I start to stand up and introduce myself properly, but just like everyone else who has been in here today, he is already walking away.
Except he didn’t even tell me his name.
I know that my two goals of having sex for the first time and doing well at my new career mean that I can’t sleep with anyone from work. Like everyone else in the world, I must maintain a professional boundary that forbids me from jumping into bed with co-workers. But as I stare at Mystery Man’s well-toned ass as he walks away from me, I can’t help wishing I could find some loophole to that universal rule.
Chapter 3 – Madilyn
Just as soon as the handsome, mysterious, authoritative stranger walks away, my phone starts ringing again.
Shit.
I can’t believe this is happening, right after Mystery Man had just told me that no personal calls are allowed here in Cubicle Hell. Luckily, I had managed to switch my phone’s volume setting to vibrate but it still sounds very loud.
I quickly hit “ignore” again, hoping to see if Mystery Man has come back— even if it’s just to look disappointed in me again— but I see that he hasn’t. I don’t know whether to be sad about that or happy that he left so quickly that he couldn’t find out I’m already getting another call so soon after he reprimanded me.
Mostly, I’m relieved he’s gone before the relationship drama I thought I had dealt with at home followed me to work. I had made it my goal to break up with Jimmy before I started working here and I’d done my best to accomplish that goal.
Knock Me Up, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance Page 13
