Bargaining With the Boss

by Jennifer Shirk

  “I can help you,” he blurted.

  What the hell did I just say?

  Kinsley stared at him. “You cook?”

  Not really. He’d promised himself weeks ago to stay far, far away from her, but it was as if his vocal cords had a mind of their own.

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call myself a cook, but everybody knows how to make chili.”

  “Oh, really?” Her eyes danced with amusement as she jammed a hand on her hip. “Are you saying that your chili is better than mine?”

  Her teasing tone made him grin. “Maybe we could find out.”

  Kinsley went silent, considering. He could practically see where her thoughts were heading. “So this wouldn’t be a date or anything, right?” she asked.

  “No date.” He shook his head “Just two coworkers slash friends cooking for a mutual…client. And I owe you for helping me out when I was sick. It’s the least I can do to repay your kindness.”

  She bit her lip. “Well, I guess when you put it that wa—”

  “Great,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

  “You really must be hungry.” She laughed. “Tell you what, why don’t you go change first and then you can follow me over to my place.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  …

  Having Damon St. James in her house—in her kitchen—was not part of her plan.

  Nevertheless, there he was, every gorgeous six-foot-one square inch of him, about to wash his hands in her sink. She just stood there, not knowing what to do with herself and feeling as if she was out of place in her own home. Her gaze was fixed on him as he rolled up his sleeves, and she couldn’t help but admire his forearms. They looked so masculine and strong.

  Just friends, she reminded her thumping heart. We’re just friends.

  “Got a towel?” he said, turning and catching her staring at him.

  “Huh? Oh, here.” Her face heated as she grabbed a dishcloth and practically flung it at his chest.

  Damon watched her, a slow grin forming on his lips as he dried his hands. “Thanks.”

  Trying to remember to breathe, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of vegetables and hummus. “First order of business is the snacks,” she said, placing the tray on the counter.

  He looked at the platter and made a face. “Don’t you have better snacks than rabbit food?”

  “I’m a healthy eater, what can I say?”

  Damon opened up one of her cupboards and on the first try found her stash of Double Stuf Oreo cookies and Cool Ranch Doritos. “I’m guessing somebody must have broken in and filled your cabinets with these atrocities.”

  “Yes, and I hope when they’re caught, they’re prosecuted to the highest level of the law.”

  He grinned. “I hate to tamper with evidence, but…” He opened the bag and withdrew a chip. “These felons know what a proper snack is.”

  “Here, give me those,” she said, grabbing the bag out of his hands. “Let me at least put them in a bowl for you.”

  “You mean, for us.”

  “Yes, fine, for us,” she repeated, munching on a chip herself. She then got out her cutting board and grabbed some garlic cloves, onions, and green peppers. “How are you at chopping?”

  “Fair to mid. But feel free to order me to do anything you want.”

  She blew out a breath. Just friends! “Okay, you start with the peppers,” she said, handing him a knife. “I’ll grab the spices we’ll need.”

  Damon pulled the cutting board toward him and deftly began slicing the bell peppers into even little squares. The man wasn’t kidding when he said he could make chili.

  “Did you learn to do that from your mom?” she asked, admiring his work.

  “Uh, no. Mom cooked even less than I do.” His face turned hard, his jaw set. “When I was in high school, I did work as a dishwasher at the Yacht Club. I picked up a few things there, which was convenient. Both my parents weren’t around much when I was growing up. Dad was busy with work and mom was busy with…anything else.”

  Blinking at his curt tone, Kinsley said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.”

  “It’s not a touchy subject,” he said, taking an onion and slicing the knife down the center like a samurai warrior.

  She paused then reached over and delicately removed the knife from his hand. “Oh, I know, but maybe I’ll finish the chopping before you lose a finger, or worse.”

  Damon sighed. “I’m sorry. I guess the mention of my parents does tend to send me over the edge a bit. It’s one of the reasons I hate weddings.”

  And apparently why he hates relationships, too.

  Damon scooped the vegetables up into his hand and tossed them into a bowl. “Your parents still had a happy marriage.”

  He phrased it more of a statement than a question, but she answered, “Yes, they did. Very happy. They had, from what I could tell, a perfect relationship.” One she still hoped to find herself one day.

  “My parents’ marriage slowly disintegrated over time, but my brother’s death sped up the process. They divorced about a year after the accident.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose seeing that happen would dampen my feelings on marriage as well. Is that why you told me when we first met that you avoid having girlfriends?”

  He looked up. “Pretty much. The insta-chemistry is the best part of meeting anyone, anyway. Then people have to go and turn that feeling into a ‘relationship’ and then when the feelings fizzle out, you’re left with a mess. Much like wedding cake.”

  She laughed. “Wedding cake?”

  “Yes. Couples spend a lot of time and energy getting this cake to be just right. Adding all kinds of layers and fillings and crazy frosting decorations. The higher and fancier it can get. But by the time it’s all said and done and sliced up, so many other things are going on that they can’t even enjoy it. So why not just skip the cake, buy a can of frosting, and dig in immediately? Which is, in my opinion, the best part of the cake anyway.”

  “But the cake is a symbol of good fortune in a marriage. Plus, with only frosting and no cake, you just get one big sugar rush, and in the end you’re left hungry.”

  “Ah, but if you hate cake in the first place, it doesn’t matter how hungry you get.”

  She blinked. “That’s silly. There are people all over the world, starving, who would kill for a piece of cake. In fact, in Africa there are people who are so hungry they have to resort to eating pies made of mud.”

  He stroked his chin. “I would take the mud pie. With a can of frosting.”

  “You’re impossible.” She picked up the dish towel and flung it at him again. “But you win this round. I promise that if I ever get married, I won’t subject my guests to cake—heaven forbid—at the reception.”

  His smile widened in approval. “My work here is done.”

  “Believe me, your work here hasn’t even started,” she said, grabbing a big stock pot. She couldn’t resist chuckling as she placed it onto the stovetop. She liked Damon’s humor and just plain liked being with Damon. Heaven help her.

  She added some oil to the pot then turned the burner on. Just as she was about to toss the diced vegetables in, there was a knock at her front door.

  Damon cocked an eyebrow. “Called in the cavalry for more help already?”

  “No, and Arden is still with her client.” She wiped her hands and went to the door. When she answered it, two giant paws attacked her legs.

  “Easy, Precious,” her brother said, pulling back on the dog’s leash. “You want to make a good impression on your new foster mommy.”

  “Foster mommy?” She stumbled back from the weight of the black lab even though Wade now had the dog by the collar. “Wade, are you nuts? I cannot keep a dog.”

  Wade ignored her, pulling the large dog inside with him. “What are you talking about? You love dogs.”

  “Yes, I love dogs. Just like I love children. I play with them, feed them all sorts of n
aughty treats, and then we both go back to our respective houses. It’s what I love best about both. Besides, I don’t know the first thing about having a pet.”

  “There’s nothing to know. It’s only temporary anyway. The animal shelter is full right now. Once there is an opening, I’ll take her back. Plus, you have nothing to worry about. She’s completely house-trained.”

  They both looked down when they heard a steady stream of liquid hitting the hardwood floor.

  “House-trained, huh?” Kinsley stepped to the side to avoid standing in pee.

  “She was very close,” Wade said. “The dog was at the door at least. We must have missed the bathroom sign.”

  “Yeah. We must have missed that.” She rolled her eyes.

  Damon emerged from the kitchen, a roll of paper towels in his hand. “I’m guessing you might need this.”

  Wade’s good-humored expression immediately turned dark. “Damon. I wish I could say it’s good to see you, so I’ll just settle for simply saying I’m surprised to see you.”

  “Wade,” Kinsley said, with a frown, “no need for the attitude. Damon is just here to make chili with me.”

  “Is that what you crazy kids are calling it these days?” he said, throwing a sardonic glance at Damon.

  Kinsley smacked his arm. “Stop it. The chili is for Mr. Knotts. He painted the hotel ballroom for free in exchange for dinner and dessert.”

  “Wow, you’re a real sweetheart to help my sister like this, Damon. First with the hotel and now with the chili.”

  Looking amused, Damon ripped off some paper towels and dropped them onto the puddle.

  Kinsley gritted her teeth. Wade was being a jackass, and her brother’s overly protective antics annoyed her more than usual today. “Wade, please, butt out.”

  “Butt out? We’re related by blood. Butting into each other’s lives is part of the unwritten yet binding contract between families.”

  “Interesting,” she said, folding her arms. “That must mean that I can ask you about what’s going on with your love life, then?”

  “Gotta go.” Wade swiftly pivoted and reached for the doorknob.

  “Wait!” she said. “What are you going to do about the dog?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Roxy doesn’t get along with other dogs so I can’t take her to my house. I’m not really sure what I’ll do…”

  She sighed, knowing she was going to regret this.

  “It’s only temporary, right?” she asked.

  Both her brother’s face and the dog’s ears perked up. “Yes, I swear. Thanks so much, sis.” He handed her the leash. “I’ll run out to my truck and get her food and bedding. She won’t be any trouble at all.”

  Wade rushed out the door, probably knowing she was already contemplating changing her mind. Kinsley cast a worried glance at Damon then they both looked down at the dog. Precious wagged her tail in response.

  Damon crouched down, holding out his hand in front of Precious. “I don’t know, Kinsley. She seems pretty sweet.”

  “You want to take her, then?”

  He laughed. “Uh, staying at the hotel, remember? We have a strict no-pet rule—with the exception of stray attitude-wielding fat cats. Otherwise…”

  “What an empty promise,” she muttered.

  Precious ducked her head and slowly approached Damon. She sniffed his hand then began licking his shoe. Kinsley hated to admit it, but the dog was pretty sweet.

  Wade came back in with a large crate and bag of food. “Okay, all her bowls are in the bag. She gets half a cup of dry dog food in the morning and at night. Keep fresh water for her all day. Bedtime is eight thirty. You can put her in the crate then and when you go to work. Got it?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? The dog has a bedtime?”

  “Dogs like routine.”

  She and Damon exchanged amused glances.

  “I’m serious, you guys!”

  Kinsley smothered a laugh. “Okay! I’ve got it, Doctor Dolittle.”

  “Great. And thanks. You’re a lifesaver.” Wade bent down to give the dog a few scratches behind her neck then turned to go. “She already went number two. So you’re safe tonight. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow once I check in at the clinic. See ya.”

  “All right. Bye, Wade.” Then she closed the door behind him.

  She bent down and unhooked the dog’s leash. Precious immediately started investigating Kinsley’s living room. Kinsley looked up at Damon and sighed. “Sorry about that. I love Wade, but he drives me a little crazy.” Especially when he embarrasses me in front of my hot boss.

  Damon gave her a sad smile. “I don’t mind. You’re lucky to have a brother like Wade. He reminds me a lot of Carson.”

  “You must miss him.”

  She was disappointed when Damon didn’t readily answer. Instead, he walked into the kitchen then came back with a trash can for the dog’s waste. He wiped the floor with a sponge and, once the floor was clean, went back into the kitchen again. She had no choice but to follow him.

  Damon was in front of her sink, washing his hands again. When he had finished, he turned to her. His jaw was set with a hard resolve. “I should go,” he told her.

  She suppressed a sigh as she walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Damon, I’m not going to press. Really. You don’t have to talk about Carson if you don’t want to.”

  He glanced where her hand lay. With his head bent, he studied it like no one had ever touched him before.

  Eventually, he covered her hand with one of his own. “We were both so young,” he finally said.

  She held her breath, waited for him to elaborate. But as usual with Damon, no other information seemed forthcoming, and like a leaky balloon, her hope deflated.

  “My parents blamed me for his death.”

  She was too stunned to move or speak for a few moments. “What? That can’t be true.”

  “Why not? They would be perfectly in their right to blame me. Carson and I both went to a fraternity party that night. He knew some guys there from his lacrosse team. I went because I needed a break from studying. But I guess I was more tired than I realized and the party just wasn’t my scene, so I told Carson I was heading out after a while and asked if he wanted to come with me. He wanted to stay. He was having a good time and said he could get a ride back to my dorm, so I figured I’d let him enjoy it. And I left.”

  Kinsley paused, her thoughts swimming. “I’m not sure I understand. How could your parents blame you? You weren’t even there when he died.”

  Damon dipped his chin, his face grim. “Because of me, Carson got into a car with another driver who had been drinking.” He looked up at her then, and the depth of despair in his eyes almost brought her to her knees. “Don’t you see? I was supposed to take him home. I was responsible for him, and in the end I let him and the rest of my family down.”

  She softly gasped. It twisted her heart to hear him say such things. “You can’t think like that. You weren’t responsible for that driver being drunk and you weren’t responsible for your brother getting into that car. He could have called you. He had to have known you would have come back and taken him home if he needed you.”

  “Yes, but he was my little brother. I should have looked out for him better. I should have been there.”

  She reached up and cupped his face with her hands. “You did. But we all have free will. You can’t control the choices a person makes as much as you’d like to.”

  Kinsley tilted his head down and gazed into his eyes to make sure he heard every word. “Damon, you’re not a bad person and you’re not at fault.”

  He nodded, but she could tell he was only doing it to appease her. She could see how troubled he was over his brother’s death. Her only hope was his parents would someday tell him the same words she had. Maybe then, he’d truly believe them and let go of that burden he was carrying around with him.

  Precious came over to them and started nudging his legs with her nose. Ki
nsley dropped her arms and smiled down at her. “Aww, look, I think she’s trying to be a comfort,” she said, rubbing the dog’s smooth head.

  “The dog is just feeling guilty because I cleaned up her accident.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, she does seem to like you.”

  He regarded her closely. “Do you find that hard to imagine?”

  “Not at all. Because I seem to like you, too.” Reaching up on her tippy toes, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “The words or the kiss?”

  An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Both.”

  “You’re welcome for both, then.”

  Without warning, he snaked his arms around her and pulled her in close. “And for the record, I like you, too. A lot. So much so that I’d like you to forget what I said before about keeping things strictly professional and even forget that I’m your boss. I’d like you to see me as just a man who finds you incredibly attractive and extremely kind.”

  Although her heart felt ready to burst open with song, she couldn’t resist asking, “For how long?”

  He gazed at her levelly. “For as long as we have.”

  “I’d like that.” And found she really did. Damon’s answer was vague, but at least he wasn’t making false promises like her ex. She’d take him for however long they could have.

  “I’d like that, too,” he said, and then he kissed her.

  She sighed a little as her hands came around his wide shoulders, pressing her lips closer to his. She’d wanted this all along. Wanted him. Way before she knew he was her boss. Way before Paul had shown up at the hotel. It wasn’t sensible thinking, but who cared? She was turning over a new leaf. No more sensible Kinsley. She knew Damon wouldn’t be staying in Cape Harmony that much longer. And even if he could stay, she wasn’t sure what he was willing to give her anyway. So she’d enjoy this time together. Take whatever he was willing to offer.

  The sound of scratching at the door and then whimpering quickly caught their attention.