Hired Hottie: A Hero Club Novel

by Kelsie Rae

  After giving him a subtle head nod, I tell the customer, “Let me get those for you. One second.” I grab a pink cardboard box with the logo of a cupcake on the top then fill it with two eclairs and a cronut. Once everything is boxed up, I hand it to the customer along with a receipt and a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Thank you so much!” she gushes as the kids reach for the box. “Guys. Stop. We’ll dig in when we get home.”

  Satisfied with their mother’s promise, the two six-year-olds practically skip behind her before the mom skids to a halt. “Levi?”

  “Alexandra?” my best friend returns, just as surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “Grabbing breakfast and growing gray hairs thanks to these two monsters.”

  With a laugh, he offers his hand to the two little girls for them to shake. “You must be Faith and Hope. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Their eyes are the size of saucers as they stare at Levi’s extended hand as if it were an octopus’ tentacle. The reaction only encourages Levi’s amusement.

  “How ‘bout a high five?” I interject, watching the train wreck in front of me that’s destined for failure with a giant grin.

  In response to my suggestion, the kids slap Levi’s hand one after the other like they were born to do it.

  “Is this your first time trying Get Baked?” he asks Alexandra.

  “It is! The cute cupcake sign grabbed Faith’s attention, and the name made me laugh, so we decided to stop by. What brings you here?”

  “My best friend works here.” He lifts his head at me, his eyes crinkling in the corners when they connect with mine. “I hope she took good care of you.”

  Stepping forward, Levi’s friend shifts the pink box from one hand to the other before offering her hand for me to shake. When I take it, she says, “She did great. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alexandra. I work with Levi at Montague Enterprises.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” I reply. “I’m Charlie. I hope Levi’s been pulling his weight at work,” I add with a teasing smirk.

  She returns it with one of her own. “He’s been doing really well. Although, I might be offended that he hasn’t bribed the partners with a box of pastries yet. Or maybe he has, and I didn’t get one.” Eyes narrowing, she turns to Levi.

  “Well, apparently, I have some brownnosing to do,” he returns with a wink. “I’d purchase an extra for you, but it looks like you have your hands full today.”

  “You have no idea,” she groans, though it’s quickly followed by a light laugh that’s contagious.

  We all join in before Levi mentions, “If you need any help with anything, let me know. I know the grand opening of the Jelani Okiro Arts and Cultural Center has been a lot to deal with.”

  “That’s kind of you to offer. Especially when I know how hard they push the interns, but I think we’ve got it under control. If that changes, I’ll definitely reach out. We should probably get going, though. It was nice to meet you, Charlie. Have a good day!” With that, Alexandra ushers the kids out the door, though it looks more like she’s herding cats with how easily the twins get distracted.

  “Good luck!” I call out. “And thanks for coming in!”

  The bell on the door chimes before she gives me an over-the-top look of desperation then disappears down the street, which leaves me with my favorite customer.

  “Small world,” I note.

  “No kidding,” Levi replies with a crooked grin. “She rubs shoulders with Dexter Truitt.”

  “The head honcho?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she knows your name.”

  His eyes widen in disbelief. “I know. She’s friendly like that though, so I shouldn’t be surprised. It doesn’t really mean anything.”

  “Bullshit,” I call him out. “You’re rocking your internship, and you should give yourself more credit. How’s it going, though? Are you feeling burned-out?”

  Ever since he moved back from college and landed the internship at Montague Enterprises, he’s been working like crazy. It’s cut into our friend time, but we’ve still tried to sneak in a run, or a trip to the batting cages, or sometimes a movie here or there. Even so, I’m excited for this summer to end so he can get back to a more stable routine. He needs it.

  “I’m doing good,” Levi answers. “But it’s competitive as hell. They’ve already weeded out four of the other interns. It’s only me and Conner left.”

  “Conner? As in your roommate from college who hooked you up with the internship in the first place? Who also happens to be the asshole from elementary school who used to call me a boy and would never let me play kickball with him?”

  “That’s the one,” Levi acknowledges.

  “I still don’t understand how you guys graduated at the same time. Wasn’t he like…two years younger than you or something?”

  “Yeah, but he had a private tutor and endless resources, so he graduated from high school with his Associate’s. It worked out, though. We were both looking for a roommate our junior year. And if I hadn’t known him, I wouldn’t have been able to use his connections with Montague Enterprises.”

  “His connections?”

  “His dad’s,” Levi corrects himself. “But without his dad’s connections, I never would’ve gotten the internship.”

  I purse my lips and bag up a chocolate croissant––his favorite. “Like I said, I call bullshit. You have no idea how much of an asset you are, Levi. Give yourself a little more credit.”

  “I am,” he replies passionately. “Seriously, Charlie. You wouldn’t believe how competitive it is. They demand perfection.”

  “Which is perfect for an OCD guy like you,” I quip.

  “Still…they haven’t told us how many positions they’ll be offering at the end of the quarter. I might not make the cut.”

  The guy in front of me was made for a giant corporation like Montague Enterprises. Being raised by a single mom, he had no choice but to step up and become the hardest worker I’ve ever met. The guy eats, sleeps, and breathes his job. Well, when he isn’t hooking up with Tinder girls, anyway.

  “You’re going to make it,” I tell him before handing over a little pink box with his pastry.

  “We’ll see.”

  Knowing he isn’t going to budge on his pessimistic stance, I change the subject. “So, how’s your mom?”

  “She’s doing okay. Keeps asking when I’m going to bring a good girl home.”

  I laugh. “Does she know you at all? You’re not attracted to the good ones.”

  “That’s not true,” he argues before setting down the box and pulling out his credit card. I wave him off.

  “Dude. You already know the rules. My boss is cool with it. She knows you.”

  “Just because her husband is one of Montague’s clients doesn’t mean I should get special treatment. Come on. Let me buy my own damn breakfast.”

  “Fiiine.” I drag out the word as I swipe his card before handing it back to him.

  “How did her appointment go?” I press, knowing he probably doesn’t want to talk about his mom’s health issues but needing to hear she’s okay, regardless. A couple of weeks ago, she found a lump in her breast, and we’ve all been sitting on pins and needles ever since.

  Sobering, Levi’s eyes drop down to the pink box that looks so fragile in his giant hands. His thumb brushes across the top as he murmurs, “Not great. They’re thinking of doing an MRI, and they want her to get a biopsy done too. I don’t really know, though. My mom doesn’t like to talk about it. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “An MRI?” I ask. “And a biopsy? That sounds expensive.”

  “I don’t even want to know how much it’s going to set us back. Cleaning houses and nannying little kids in the neighborhood”—he winks, because I was that little kid—“didn’t provide great healthcare. We’ll figure it out, though.”

  He doesn’t sound very convinced, and my heart aches for him and my second mom. After all, when yours dies before you tu
rn three, it’s easy to turn to the next best thing––your nanny and next-door neighbor.

  “That’s ridiculous. If they’re worried it’s cancerous and will probably take it out anyway, why would they make you pay for an MRI and a biopsy too?”

  He sighs. “I don’t know the details, but I gotta get this job.”

  Sucking my lips into my mouth, I grab a second chocolate croissant then shove it toward him. “This one’s for your mom. She needs a sweet treat.”

  The jerky movement is enough to break the morose spell that had been cast on the bakery, and I’m grateful when he takes it without arguing.

  “Thanks. You should come visit her one of these days.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to bug her—”

  “How could you say that?” he interrupts. “She practically raised you.”

  “I know that, but—”

  “No. Seriously. My mom would be disappointed if she thought you felt that way. Go see her. Maybe when you go get breakfast with your dad or something, okay?”

  “Fine…if you insist,” I tease, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  Chuckling, Levi picks up the chocolate croissant and shoves a giant bite into his mouth. Talking around the barely chewed croissant, he mumbles, “Good girl. See ya later.”

  Chapter Four

  Levi

  “Gentlemen, if you’ll take a seat.” Mr. Morris, my boss, motions to a set of office chairs across from his desk. Glancing to my right, I see a very anxious Conner step forward. I do the same.

  Once we’re both seated, Mr. Morris dives right in. “As you know, Montague Enterprises prides itself on being a professional environment as well as innovative and forward-thinking. Both of you have proven, time and time again, that you’re great candidates for a long-term position. Unfortunately, we’ll only have one opening available in the upcoming months, and once this internship is over, one of you will be let go.”

  My jaw tightens as he continues.

  “That being said, whoever ends up in the less than optimal position, you’ll be sent with a letter of recommendation signed by Mr. Truitt and myself. I have no doubt you’ll be able to find an opening with one of the other thriving companies in the area with ease. Now, unless either of you is willing to drop out, I’m going to be honest with you. It’s a tight competition. You’re both very qualified, and I’m confident that either of you would thrive if given the opportunity. We have an interesting pair of projects you’ll both be working on that require a great deal of research in the upcoming weeks. Once you’ve presented your data to a few key players here at Montague Enterprises, we’ll make a decision. As far as the project goes, we need you to look for––”

  It takes everything inside of me to ignore the buzz in my ears and focus on Greg’s instructions.

  Once he’s finished delving into the specifics, he stands from his chair. “That’ll be all, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing how you both apply yourselves.”

  Dismissed, Conner and I exit Greg’s office then make our way to the break room.

  “Shit, man,” Conner mumbles once we’re out of earshot. “I don’t know how I’m going to get all this done on top of my current workload.”

  “Neither do I,” I admit before grabbing a black mug from the cupboard and filling it with some dark, rich coffee. It might be later in the afternoon, but I have a feeling I’m going to be here for a while, and I’ll need the caffeine.

  It scalds my tongue as I suck down a quick gulp, but I don’t really care right now. There’s too much to do, and I can’t think through the cloud of discouragement that accompanied the previous conversation.

  “I’m gonna get back to work. I’ll see ya later.” Conner slaps me on the back then leaves me alone with my shitty cup of coffee and the overwhelming fear that I won’t be able to take care of my mom if this falls through.

  I can’t let her down.

  “Hey, Mom!” I call from the doorway. I might have a key to my childhood home, but I know how much it freaks her out to hear someone in her house if she doesn’t know who it is.

  “Levi?” her quiet voice echoes through the hall. I follow it to see her lounging on the couch with her knitting needles and a ball of yarn in her lap.

  “What are you doing here so late?” she asks. The soft glow of the TV bounces off her pale skin.

  “Just wanted to check in.”

  “You checked in yesterday.”

  “Yeah. And that was yesterday. What? Is there a problem with your only son wanting to come see you?” I razz before plopping down onto the couch next to her while resting the Get Baked box from Charlie on my lap.

  She smiles. “I guess not. There are some leftovers in the fridge if you want to heat them up.”

  “Alright, I’ll grab some in a minute. But first, I wanted to see how you’re doing?”

  “I’m doing good. Charlie stopped by earlier—”

  “Which reminds me,” I cut her off before I can forget and give her the pink box from Get Baked. “She wanted me to give you this.”

  “She mentioned I’d be getting a treat tonight.” Bouncing her brows up and down, she takes the box from me, lifts the lid, and grins. “My favorite. One of these days, you’ll have to ask her how to make these.”

  I cover my amusement with a closed fist to my lips and a fake cough. “Charlie doesn’t know how to do anything but ring up the orders and frost the cookies, Mom. But I’ll let her know you have a hell of a lot more faith in her than I do.”

  The sound of her light laughter makes my chest ache. The question of how much longer I’ll be able to hear it forces its way to the front of my mind, but I shove it aside.

  “How’d your appointment go?” I ask, nearly choking on the words.

  Her dainty little hand sets down her knitting needle before she cups my cheek. The warmth from her touch seems to spread through me, melting a bit of the ice around my heart.

  “It was fine. They scheduled an MRI for next week. Then we’ll figure out a plan and move forward from there. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  She could be right. But she could also be very wrong. Statistically speaking, twenty percent of breast lumps are cancerous, and the doctors are worried this one has been there for a decent amount of time, which raises the chances, though I know she’ll never admit that to me.

  I pat her knee then head to the kitchen in an attempt to mask my emotions under the pretense of leftovers. My chest tightens when I see my options in the fridge. Not because I expect a five-course dinner anytime I come over, but because I know how much my mom loves to cook, yet her fridge is nearly empty. She says she isn’t feeling any different since she found the lump. In fact, she insists she feels fine, which means she’s too anxious to cook and, therefore, too anxious to eat.

  Grabbing the first Tupperware I see, I shove it into the microwave then hit start. My ass rests against the Formica countertops as I take in my childhood home. The small kitchen has a dining table tucked into a corner, laminate floors that have seen better days but are mopped religiously, and a bin for mail, which is usually kept in order. Not today, though. It looks fuller than ever. Releasing a sigh, I thumb through its contents. None of the white envelopes have the angry red past due stamp on them, but the papers are still worn as if my mom has used her fragile little hands to worry over them more often than once. Bills. Five of them, and I’m afraid it’s just the start. A weight bears down on my shoulders before the microwave dings, snapping me out of my funk.

  I drop the mail back into the organizer on the counter. Grabbing a fork and my lukewarm dinner, I head back into the family room then sit down to watch old reruns of Law and Order with my mom, who’s always been more of a superhero than anything else.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie

  I’ve only been at Get Baked for a few minutes when the bell dings above the front door. A grin spreads across my face when Rhett and his dog, Harry, mosey in.

  “Hey, guys!” I greet them.

  �
��Hey, Charlie. How’s work going?”

  “Meh. I just walked in. What are you guys doing up so early?”

  Bending down, Rhett rubs Harry’s head affectionately as he replies, “Indie’s a brat and always wakes up Harry. Sometimes I can get him to go back to bed, but today he wasn’t having it, so we went on a walk. Figured we’d stop by for a quick cup of coffee and a cronut. You know how this big mutt loves his mama.”

  “Speaking of which….” I turn around and call into the back of the store, “Hey, Indie! You have a few visitors!”

  Seconds later, Indie walks through with a white apron strapped across her waist and her long, blonde hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head. It’s the smear of flour across her cheek that makes me laugh.

  “Harry!” she squeals, her hands fumbling with her apron. Hanging it up, she rounds the counter and starts cooing, “How’s my big guy? How’s my buddy? Did you have fun on your walk? I bet you did! I bet you did!”

  Rhett and I exchange amused looks before he interrupts her. “Better be careful, Indie. Your husband’s getting jealous.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a quick kiss.

  “That better?” she quips, practically glowing.

  Knowing Rhett’s usual order, I pour him a cup of coffee then bag a fresh cronut and pull out a homemade dog biscuit, as well. Indie started baking them when they adopted Harry so he could enjoy a fresh-baked treat too. Surprisingly, they’ve become wildly popular, and he’s not the only pup who snatches them up like a little kid with a popsicle on a hot summer’s day.

  “Much better,” Rhett replies. “I’ll let ya get back to work, though. Seems like we interrupted a battle between you and the flour, and you still haven’t earned your victory yet.”

  With a gasp, Indie smacks Rhett’s chest then gives Harry another pat. Rhett digs into his pocket and pulls out a twenty, dropping it into the tip jar with a wink. “Tell Levi hi for me. He’s been our contact at Montague Enterprises, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed how well he’s fitting in. If Montague Enterprises isn’t careful, we just might steal him.”