by Baker, Tory
“I figured you would have left by now.” Callie comes out on the front porch, closing the door behind her. She’s not in the outfit she had on at the office; no, this one is something else entirely. Not revealing in a way that shows off the curves she had on display earlier.
No, tonight, she’s in a vintage-looking concert tee. I can see the curve of her breasts as she stands in front of me with her arms crossed under her chest, only amplifying the size of them. God damn, how did I never realize just how beautiful Callie is until she walked away? Her legs are on full display in a pair of shorts that look soft to the touch. I was more of an idiot than I thought all along.
“I probably should have, but something about the way you left today woke me up inside, not just because you’re a hard worker and the best asset I’ve ever had working with me. I can admit when I’m a dick and when I have my head up my own ass, and for that, I apologize. There’s no excuse, but I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you. It’s very much appreciated. No matter how unethical it is, I can’t say I’m sorry that I left today, even though I’m sure I could have given you a two weeks’ notice. The thing is, I have a little girl in there that needs me first and foremost. Her recital is something I wouldn’t miss for the world,” Callie states with her hip cocked to the side, elongating her legs when I am already having thoughts of them wrapped around my hips. Fuck. Once again, I’m kicking my own ass.
“And for that, I couldn’t be sorrier. I’m not even sure if I’m in a position to ask you to come back to work. Just know the option is there if you do decide. Of course, things will change. Hours, pay, and hell, if you don’t want to work for me anymore, I’ll put you in a different department, unwillingly, of course.” I take my hands out of my pockets, wanting to walk toward Callie, even with the ‘don’t touch’ vibe she’s giving off.
“It’s late tonight, so why don’t we do this tomorrow morning? We can meet for coffee after I drop Clairabella at school, and maybe, just maybe I’ll come back to work for you. I’m not saying yes, and I’m not saying no. I’d suggest you bring your best offer to the table, though.” Then she does the thing I least expect; Callie extends her arm.
“You sure you want to shake on it? I’m more than likely not going to take no for an answer.”
“Yep, I’m sure. Oh, you owe the swear jar one dollar. Claira won’t forget. I’ve put enough in that jar to at least pay for her first year of college.”
My hand engulfs hers as we shake on it. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow at around nine o’clock. And Callie?”
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Put this in the swear jar, and I’ll meet you here.” I hand her a ten-dollar bill before sweeping a piece of hair that’s falling in her face. Hearing her sharp intake of breath lets me know she isn’t as unaffected as she leads me to believe.
“I’ll be here.”
When she turns to leave, I watch her the whole way this time to make sure her door locks. Once I hear it click into place, I get in my car and head home.
7
Callie
“Oh, Momma, you look beautiful,” Claira says as she gets her shoes on for us to head to school.
“Thank you, pumpkin pie. You look pretty darn beautiful yourself,” I say with a wink. Claira absolutely loves matching clothes with me, and I take it while I can because I know she’ll outgrow this one day. So, today we’re both in matching grey shirts stating “homebody” that we got at none other than a boutique in town owned by Jamie’s mother, skinny jeans with distressing through the knees, and our black chucks to tie it all together.
“Do you think we can get ice cream after school and before my recital?” She loves her ice cream, and I’m sure I’ll be her least favorite person with my response.
“Not after school, but after your recital, it’s your choice for dinner and ice cream.” I’m waiting for the stomp of her foot and throwing sass. It doesn’t happen, though.
“Oh, my choice? Does that mean rolled ice cream?” Claira bats her pretty eyelashes.
“I guess it does. What about dinner?” I already know her answer.
“Momma, you know I love ice cream for dinner.” She walks away to grab her lunch box and backpack.
“How about I make a light dinner before dance, then we’ll get ice cream for dinner?”
“That works. Can you make sure we have carrots with ranch, please?”
“You got it. All right, let’s rock and roll. Momma has a meeting after I drop you off at school,” I tell her.
Claira knows my job situation right now. I had to be transparent with her this morning over breakfast when she asked who the man was that owes money in the swear jar. So, I let her know. Claira put her finger to her head and said, “I think he’s a nice man, Momma. Maybe not a nice person to work for, but he seems nice enough.” What can I say? I think Jamie has her fooled on good looks alone. I told her we’d have to see what happens after this morning’s meeting before we go any further with her prediction.
“Yep, I’m ready. Can you walk me all the way into class this morning?” she asks, it seems today she’s full of questions.
“Absolutely.” I follow her as she walks out the front door, and she waits patiently while I lock up, and then we get into the car. Her asking me to walk her into class sucker punches me. There were times I could always do that without her asking, but for the past few months, I’ve had to drop her off in the car loop. Hopefully, this meeting with Jamie, there will be a whole lot of changes happening before I even think about going back to work for him.
We make it to school in five minutes, park the car, and get out. It always shocks me when Claira wants to hold my hand, especially at school in front of all of her friends. It’s another one of those instances that I know she will eventually outgrow.
“Hi, Auntie Pres,” Clairabella says as we come up toward the hallway that leads to her classroom. I thought Presley would quit teaching once Noah was born, but she didn’t. It helps that her parents enjoy watching him while she’s at school. Plus, her schedule is pretty amazing for when he gets older, too.
“Hi, Bella Bug. How are you this morning?” Presley drops down into a squat to give her a hug.
“I’m fantastic. Guess what we’re having for dinner?” She doesn’t give Pres the opportunity to respond. “Rolled ice cream! I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Love you. I have to get to class. See you later. Bye, Momma! I love you!”
“See you later, Bug,” Presley replies.
“Love you more. Have a great day!” I wave to her as she disappears into her classroom.
“Well, what happened when we left? I tried to stay up and wait for a text, but I passed out pretty fast once Colt dropped me off at home. Noah was in bed, and the wine did me in,” she says.
“I’m meeting Jamie today, so there isn’t much to say yet. I’ll text the group chat. Speaking of, I guess I need to get back home. I want to clean the house a little bit before he shows up. And, no, I’m not cleaning it for him.” I roll my eyes when I see her hopeful look.
“You never know.” She puts her hands up in a ‘don’t give up’ kind of way.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m out of here. Don’t worry about taking Claira to my parents’ house. I’ll be here to pick her up. Which, can I say I’m so stinking happy to finally be able to do?” A smile comes to my face; I really am excited.
“Sounds good. Keep us posted.” She gives me a wink, and I wave at her instead of giving her the bird like I want to do as we part ways.
With a spring in my step, I head back the way we came. Once I’m home, I open the front door and am met with silence, something I don’t get a lot of. Not that I’m complaining, but I can now take care of a few things that have been on my never-ending list—clean out Claira’s closet and toys, organize the kitchen cabinets that I swear the storage containers have been thrown inside when Clairabella helps me unload the dishwasher, and even work on the backyard that’s been sorely neglected. This weekend, I’m definitely going
to work on that. I’m sure my little helper will love to get her hands dirty as much as she loves to dress up, too.
I throw my purse on the couch and make a cup of coffee, dreading that Jamie will be here soon. Well, if he actually does what he says, he will.
I’m not really holding my breath. I doctor up my coffee then take it out to the front porch while looking out at my yard with a contentedness I haven’t had in a really freaking long time.
8
Jamie
It’s a sense of déjà vu pulling into Callie’s neighborhood, rounding the curve, and parking in her driveway. She’s sitting on her front porch looking like it’s her favorite spot to be, even when the temperature is already in the seventies and only getting warmer. But there she sits in jeans and a shirt, her hair on top of her head, and a cup of coffee in her hand.
Mi Madre really helped me out today. When I left Callie’s last night, I called her on the way home, letting her know my plan on winning her back. Not saying I didn’t have to beg for my own mother’s forgiveness, because I did. She came through for me, though, and did my a solid, which means I’ll be paying her back at her store some way. That usually means I’ll be the pack mule, and she’ll have me doing the heavy lifting, but it’ll be worth it. Especially since she’s taking Callie’s place today and is rescheduling all of my appointments that were supposed to happen today.
After parking my car, I step out and say, “Good morning,” while I walk toward Callie. The smile she gives me does something to the beating organ in my chest. It’s one that gives me hope, and I all of a sudden want to be the one putting that smile on her face.
“Good morning. I’m shocked to see you outside of the office this early in the morning,” she quips.
“Yeah, me too. I don’t think I’ve had a morning off in, well, ever, but I have to say it’s nice.” I come up on the porch, and she nods to the seat beside her. The furniture may look funky, with egg-like chairs hanging from the ceiling posts, but as I sat in one last night, it was comfortable.
“I guess it’s a good thing I walked out then. Tell me, does your mom know just how much of a workaholic you are?” Callie questions, but not in a mean way. She truly wants to know.
“Oh, she knows. She knows so well. It’s who I get it from naturally. Somehow, she slowed down by the age I’m at now. Meanwhile, I’m still stubborn and bullheaded and haven’t yet,” I say with truth in my eyes. She makes a humming noise while taking a sip of coffee.
“Then maybe you should take this as a learning lesson. What did you want to talk about?” Callie cuts to the chase.
“Can I get a cup of coffee first?” I’m pressing my luck without a doubt. The only thing I have going for me right now is the way she’s staring at me. I’m not even sure she realizes she’s doing it either.
“I suppose we can go inside and have a cup of coffee since I’m just about finished with this one anyway.” I wait for her to get up to lead the way. The way Callie fills out a pair of jeans… God damn was I an idiot.
She holds the door open for me, letting me go through before her. This time, she’s the one looking, and all I can do is smirk as I pass by. When I make it inside, I stand to the side so she can show me to her kitchen. My mother would kill me if I didn’t use my manners.
“Come on. The kitchen is through here.” Callie’s home isn’t like a lot of the houses are today. Every room is divided, but it works for the place. Her kitchen is a galley style with bar-top counters.
“I’ll make it if you show me where you keep everything,” I offer.
“It’s okay. It won’t take but a second. This way, you can get down to this top-secret offer you have for me.” I take in the clean lines of her white kitchen and black countertops. Everything is clean, and even with the older appliances, it all looks to be in good condition.
“I was hoping you’d come back to work for me. I know you’ll probably say no, and if you do, I’ll understand, but I’m proposing shorter hours, a pay raise, and more vacation time.”
“What kind of hours are we talking about?” she asks.
“I was hoping we could get you on a schedule from eight-thirty in the morning ‘til two in the afternoon with the occasional late day if we have a new client that can’t come in until later. With this, I’ll be shortening my hours as well.”
“I’m liking where this is going so far. What about the rest?” She nods as she sets my cup of coffee on the counter in front of me. There’s something to be said for her being my assistant; she knows everything before I need to ask it.
“The pay raise is a guarantee, and I’m throwing in three extra weeks of paid vacation along with the two you were receiving. Does this sound fair?” I ask her.
“So far, it does, but Jamie, I need the next week off. My girl needs time to be with her mom, and I need time with my girl.”
“That’s fine. Do you mind if I call you or have my mom call you if something comes up and we can’t figure it out?” I ask, not only for work but for my personal gain as well.
“I’m okay with that. I can’t believe your mom is at the office working for you right now. I bet she wants to kick your rear end.” She laughs into her coffee.
“You have no idea.” I hand her my phone, unlocked.
She picks up with a retort. “Do you know the kind of evidence you just handed over? A girl could go through your phone in under five minutes and find everything out she needs to know about you.”
“I have nothing to hide from you, Callie. Take all the time you want to look.” I take a sip of my coffee while she peruses my phone. I hear her cell phone ring in her purse.
“Mind if I use your restroom?”
“Nope, first door on the right down the hallway.”
I leave her with my phone. While walking down the hallway, I take in the way she has her home decorated, and that’s exactly what it is—a home. It’s not sterile or stodgy, but comfortable and cozy. Throw blankets are on the back of the couch, and pillows are everywhere but on the couch as if Clairabella had a hay day with them. It brings a smile to my face. Something tells me Callie and her daughter are two peas in a pod and are full of mischief.
I carry on about my business, finish with washing my hands, then go back toward the kitchen. On my way, I see Clairabella’s room. I figured it’d be bright and crazy and full of toys, but it’s not. Her room is clean, painted in a soft grey like the rest of the house. She has fairy lights hung across her ceiling that are on and twinkling. Her bed, though, is fit for a princess with a canopy top and sheer material hanging from it. There are some shoes and clothes piled on the floor, along with baby dolls scattered here and there. That damn spot in my chest, it thumps louder with every chance I get to look in on their life. It’s another sure tell sign that my mother is right. Callie and her daughter are becoming living and breathing entities to my cold ass heart. Something tells me this is only the beginning.
9
Callie
Someone should really pound it into Jamie’s head that you should never allow a woman access to your phone because I totally snoop. The best part, though, is I have absolutely no shame about doing it.
While thumbing through his pages, I see the normal news apps. So utterly boring. So, I scroll through until I find his pictures icon and open it up. There are pictures of his mom and him together and a few scenic pictures from a few years ago, but nothing juicy. “What a bust,” I grumble to myself.
Doing what I was originally set out to do, I save my number in his phone; only I don’t use my real name. He’s going to have a shit fit when he notices it, not to mention how he’ll react if he ever sees what name I saved his number under in my phone.
When I hear Jamie’s approach, I exit out of all of his apps and slide it back to where he was sitting.
“Find what you were looking for?” he questions.
“Nope, you’re… well, how do I say this? You’re rather boring. Unless that’s your work phone and not your personal phone.” I take him
in; his jet-black hair is in a shaggier style than he usually has it for work, and his mink eyelashes frame his blue eyes. He has to be the luckiest man alive; women would kill for his eyelashes along with the color of his eyes. They’re so blue it’s like looking into the sky during a Florida rain shower, where the sun still peaks through the puffy clouds. And he has this beautiful deep skin tone that I know was handed down to him from his mom. Jamie is the total package. Too bad his personality sucks. Well, at least, it did. Now he seems to be a completely different man. Hell, he’s even wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with Harvard on it. You can tell it’s soft to the touch by the way it’s faded. I’m guessing it’s one he’s had since college. His mom loves to brag anytime Claira and I go to her boutique. She always showers my girls with attention and it gives us three girls a chance to have fun.
The man fills out a pair of fitted blue jeans. I can’t even deny that I watched him walk down the hallway, almost breaking my neck as I took in his muscular back, down to the way his waist tapers in, his ass though, that’s what really has me looking long and hard.
What can I say? Apparently, I’m an ass man. I only wish I got a better glimpse of his legs, but they were covered up.
“I barely like carrying around that phone, let alone a second one. What you see is what you get, Callie.”
“Well then, yep. You lead a boring life, much like your mother tells me. She always says, ‘Mijo, he’ll never find a woman to settle down with if he doesn’t leave his office,’ and Jamie, I have to agree with her. There is so much more to life than work,” I tell him.
“You and Claira could spice up my life, you know,” Jamie tries to persuade me.
“Oh, no, you don’t. It’s bad enough you met her last night without me knowing, but there is one thing I will always do, and that’s not bring an unknown male into her life. She and I set down rules a long time ago of the kind of man I’d bring into our lives,” I state, not giving him any hints.
