Daddy Boss (A Boss Romance Love Story)

by Bishop, Claire

  A test was scheduled for today at the warehouse near the airstrip. I told my driver to drop me off there so I could take a look and keep an eye on things. When I walked into the warehouse, the supervisor, Rick, had a technician backed up against the wall near the office. The tech saw me come in. He was young, almost a kid. His eyes got wider and wider as I walked closer. It was bad to mess up in front of Rick. It was a newer employee’s nightmare to screw up in front of the head of the company.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Rick asked the tech. “Hold onto that sensor like it’s worth a few million dollars. Because it is.”

  “Anything I should be interested in?” I watched the tech closely, forking him with my unnerving gaze. “What did you do?”

  “N-nothing,” the tech said, shrinking away and folding his arms over his chest.

  I turned to the supervisor and grinned at him evilly. “Do we have to fire another tech this week?”

  The poor kid went a sickly shade of green. I thought he might actually be sick right there in the warehouse. Rick shot me a subtle smile before turning back to the tech.

  “I don’t know, boss. I think we should give him another chance.”

  I turned my gaze back on the tech and nodded slowly. “All right, Rick. But I’ll be keeping an eye on this one. He should probably get out of here before I change my mind.”

  The tech practically squeaked in fear as he hurried away from us and out of the warehouse. I was able to hold in my laughter until he was gone. Rick joined in, shaking his head and chuckling.

  “You’re pure evil,” he said.

  “Oh, come on, Rick. Just having a little fun.”

  “You just damaged that poor boy for life.”

  “He won’t be making mistakes anytime soon, that’s for sure.” There was a plane sitting in the center of the warehouse. It was an old recreational model, the kind that amateur pilots might fly. I recognized it immediately. “Is Bessie ready to fly?”

  “I think so.”

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “The fuel was contaminated, and the engine needed a bit of a tune up.”

  I nodded. “Did you get that sorted out? I don’t want her crashing on her first flight.”

  “Yeah. We’re going to try her out. She’s basic and easy to work with, perfect for testing out the new sensor prototype.”

  “She’s a good choice,” I agreed.

  “We’ll have her ready to go here in a second if you’d like to see the test,” Rick said.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  “It’s boring, though.” Rick turned back to me with a hushed voice. “We went over that entire machine. It’s going to take off, go in a loop, and land. Then all of the technicians will clap and cry like this is NASA or something.”

  “Let them have their moment.”

  “It’s too dramatic. I can’t trust these men the way I used to. They’re pussies, every last one of them.”

  I stifled a laugh. “That’s what you say about Army men, too.”

  “Yeah, but y’all are different. At least you have muscle. Just not much going on up in here.” He playfully knocked on my skull. I grabbed him by the wrist, twisting it back.

  “Ah, come on.” He tried to squirm away.

  “Fine.” I let him go.

  “The Navy can’t be all that bad. They got you making billions.”

  “But the Army was what got me to the head of the pack,” I said.

  “I don’t buy it.” Rick led me to the back wall where we could watch the takeoff. “You come for drinks tonight?” Rick handed me a pair of earmuffs to block out the sound of the plane taking off.

  “I guess.” I put the earmuffs on and watched as the plane took off, looped around the airfield, and landed back down. The technicians all clapped and ran out toward the plane crying and taking pictures. Somebody had even brought a cake. I usually encouraged things like that. It helped keep their spirits up and made them feel like they were accomplishing something. Still, I had to agree with Rick; it was more than a little corny.

  When the test was over, I excused myself and walked to the back of the warehouse to check my phone. There was a swarm of messages, and they just kept coming, more every second. It was Armageddon. The entire office was running around like chickens with their heads cut off because I was ten minutes late. I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I had to head to the office.

  There were a million questions the second I walked in. After that, a never-ending wave of emails, voicemails, text messages, and, of course, an endless stream of people in and out of my office. Then, there was the paperwork. I could die happy if it meant never having to sign and date another form again. I was going to have to work twice as hard to make up for the time I lost at the warehouse. Otherwise, I wouldn’t get out in time to go to the bar, and I needed a drink—badly.

  Chapter Two

  Zoe

  Owning a bakery was a nice fantasy. A pretty shop with flowers in the lobby, all in blue and white, with decorative cakes sitting in glass displays. It was supposed to be a creative outlet and the fulfillment of a dream. The reality was, of course, much different.

  Zoe’s Bakery was my slave ship. There was the baking and cleaning, a steady stream of customers, and monumental piles of dishes that kept me up late every night. If I allowed myself to rest, I wouldn’t be able to make my orders on time or keep up with the daily demand from the customers. People would stop coming, and I’d end up losing money until I had nothing left but a small business loan that I couldn’t pay.

  I knew the risk I was taking when I opened the bakery. I thought it through and planned everything out. That was the only reason I was able to survive off of what I made, but I couldn’t plan everything, and there was always the chance that I’d make a fatal mistake and screw everything up.

  I had to learn to live with the anxiety and find joy in little things, like making up new recipes and experimenting with different spices. Last month, all of my signature cookies had zest. The month before that, I was on a chocolate kick, experimenting with dark chocolate, chocolate with chilis, white chocolate, and, of course, the perfect chocolate filling. Those tiny obsessions kept the excitement going. It helped rejuvenate the place and make sure that the life didn’t go out of it.

  By five o’clock, I could barely stand. The skin on my heels had worn away from walking around too much. Every time I moved my feet, the back of my shoes grated against the cut. I had to lean against the counter while I took orders just to keep my shoes from tearing into my heel.

  There was an afternoon rush—mostly kids and college students ordering coffee and pastries. The onslaught lasted for more than an hour, and my feet were screaming for relief. When I was done with the customers, I limped back into the office and took a seat. My legs were burning, and there was an ache in my lower back that simply wouldn’t go away.

  Chloe’s shift started in fifteen minutes. Usually, I waited until she arrived to sit down, but I couldn’t stand the pain any longer. The moment I sat down, the doorbell chimed, which meant that there was a customer. I sighed and dragged myself to my feet.

  It was Mr. Beetle; that’s what Chloe called him. He wore nothing but baggy slacks that he had to keep pulling up and cheap t-shirts with stains on the front.

  The funniest thing about him was the way he leaned in over the counter and squinted through his thick glasses that magnified his eyes. Chloe hated it. She said he stunk, and he did. His slicked back black hair smelled like a zoo, and the smell of his body was repulsive.

  His head craned to the side like a bird, and he squinted up at the menu on the wall behind the counter. He moved his lips as he read over the menu in his head.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, staying a step back from the counter.

  He looked down as if I’d appeared out of thin air in front of him. “How are you, Zoe?”

  “Good, and you?”

  “Good, good.” He was missing some teeth. I could see the gaps in the f
ront of his mouth.

  “What can I get for you today?”

  “Um.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you like to eat?”

  I wanted to climb over the counter, grab him, and tell him to hurry up, but I didn’t. Instead, I drummed my fingernails on the counter, just one quick swipe. He didn’t seem to notice. “I just made some blueberry scones.”

  “Yes, but I need something to drink.” He seemed to mull it over as if it were the biggest decision he’d ever made.

  “How about a hot cocoa?” I only suggested it because it was already made. I could just pour it up and get him out of here. He liked to hang around though and take his time. It was infuriating; he usually came in when I was ready to collapse.

  “Blueberry scone and hot cocoa it is, then.” He shuffled around in his pockets and pulled out wadded up bills and an assortment of coins.

  “That’ll be six eighty-four.”

  “All right. Let’s see here.” He dumped the change on the counter. I checked the clock while he counted it. Chloe was already five minutes late, and I hoped for her sake that she didn’t keep me waiting any longer.

  “One…two…” He was counting the last twenty cents in pennies. I counted them mentally then swept them up. He looked up at me as if he were a child that’d just gotten his toy taken away. I ignored him, grabbed a cup, and poured out his hot chocolate. Then I grabbed him a scone. He seemed anxious, bobbing back and forth on his heels like he was excited about getting a piece of candy.

  “Here ya go,” I said.

  He snatched the bag away and turned to walk outside. The door opened, and Chloe rushed in. Her nose wrinkled as she sidestepped him.

  Chloe followed me into the back and leaned against the door frame while I took a seat. She was skinny, with short black hair that she kept in a ponytail, and that classic model beauty that everyone could appreciate. I’ve been told the same thing, but I usually just dismissed it as flattery. My blond hair was too flat and stringy, and my nose was too big, but I had a nice figure.

  “You’re late,” I announced.

  “Five minutes doesn’t matter.”

  “It does when your boss has blisters on her heels.” I tried not to cringe as I pulled off my black kitchen shoes so I could change into my flats.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry. I got out the door a little late.”

  “It’s fine. I shouldn’t be mad at you anyway. You’re giving me a much-needed break.”

  “Dude,” Chloe said, waving her hand over her nose. “What is wrong with that guy? Did you smell him? I could barely breathe.”

  “He’s disabled. You shouldn’t make fun of him.”

  “He’s creepy is what he is. Don’t let him in the store. We serve food here. People aren’t going to want to come in if it smells like that.”

  I stood up and grabbed my water bottle from my desk, then I walked out of the office. “It doesn’t matter. If we banned every creep that came in here, we wouldn’t have any business.”

  “You’re right.” Chloe shrugged and put on an apron.

  I followed her into the kitchen. “Donuts are done. They just need icing. There’s a cake that needs finishing tomorrow. I left instructions.” Chloe nodded along. “I’ll need you to make a batch of apple scones, though.”

  “Did you mix up the apples?” Chloe didn’t sound happy.

  “No,” I groaned. “We ran out of blueberry during the lunch rush. I had to prep more. It was a complete disaster.”

  “Geez, you should’ve called me.” She pulled a box of apples out of the walk-in.

  “I didn’t want to bother you. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Listen,” Chloe said. “Get out of here. I’ve got this.”

  “All right.” I felt like a new mother leaving my infant for the first time. I kept looking back at Chloe, a little uncertain.

  “It’ll be fine,” Chloe said.

  “Okay, Okay.” I grabbed my car keys. “Just let me know if there’s any trouble.”

  “I will.” I knew I could trust Chloe, but I couldn’t get rid of the anxiety. I used to stay up at night wondering whether or not I should drive down there and make sure things were okay. I’d go over the books at two in the morning to be sure that everything was right. Then I’d go back to bed and have nightmares of gangs throwing bricks in the windows, or people battering down the back door to get to the safe. Everything in my life depended upon that one tiny shop. If it didn’t succeed, I’d be completely screwed.

  It was cold and wet outside, halfway between one rainstorm and another. Usually, I didn’t mind, but I forgot to bring a jacket that morning. I was shivering all the way back to my car. When I got in, I took a second and let my head fall back against the seat. If I kept this up, I was going to have to be institutionalized.

  The problem wasn’t the work. I could handle that, but having to worry every second of every day, it wasn’t healthy. But what other choice did I have? My worries kept me motivated. They woke me up in the morning and got me through the day. Without them, I’d have nothing.

  I started the car and checked my rearview mirror before backing out. Mr. Beetle was standing next to a light pole staring at me with a line of blueberry filling smeared across his cheek. What was he doing there? I’d wondered more than once whether or not the man was homeless. It was hard to see somebody like that without feeling a little bit of sympathy. He didn’t deserve the treatment that Chloe gave him. His life was hard enough. I decided to be nice and give him a quick wave before I pulled out. His eyes went wide, and he gave me a toothless grin. It was sweet.

  Chapter Three

  Archer

  When my twins were born, the world became a dangerous place, where something as simple as a staple or a penny could prove to be fatal. My protective instincts kicked in, and my neuroses went into overdrive. No matter what I did, I simply couldn’t rest easy unless I knew they were safe. It was illogical, and I knew it, but that was the reality of parenting. I always had that little voice in the back of my head telling me to rush in and make sure that they were okay.

  I couldn’t sleep in the room with them. I never would’ve gotten any sleep, so I bought the best security system I could find. Their nursery door and window had motion sensors and heat sensors that would set off an alarm if anyone came in there uninvited. Then, of course, I had several cameras put in so I could send the feed to the flat screen across from my bed. That way, I could wake up and see that they were okay.

  I had just gotten to sleep when I heard the scream pierce through the room. My eyes shot open. Somebody was hungry. I grabbed a bottle from the mini-fridge near the bed and took it to the nursery so I could see what was going on. Abel, the smaller of the two, was shrieking. He was red in the face, flailing around in his crib.

  “Come here.” I lifted Abel up and carried him into the hall. I couldn’t have him waking his brother, Andrew, up. He was staring up at me, his face scrunched up, like he was disappointed. “Hey.” I reached my hand out so he could take my finger. He slapped it away and threw his head back, wailing as loud as he could.

  I rocked him with one arm, back and forth slowly, then slipped the bottle between his lips. Abel grabbed onto it, thank God. He sucked on it for a moment, his eyes drooping. Then he let the bottle fall, and his eyes closed altogether.

  It should’ve been a relief, but it wasn’t. If I was careful and I didn’t make a single sound, there was a chance that I could get him back into his room without waking up his brother. I stayed as stiff as I could, careful not to move him too much, and took careful steps back to the nursery. When I crossed the threshold, Abel began to make soft noises of distress. He wiped his eyes.

  “No, no, no. It’s okay.”

  Abel erupted with a shrill scream. His brother, Andrew, joined in. I sighed and sat down on the rocking chair with Abel. I had tried to separate them once before. I figured it would allow them to have their own personal space, but they weren’t having it. They wanted to be together. So, they still continu
ed to share a room.

  Andrew stopped crying after a few minutes. Then Abel closed his eyes and went back to sleep. I got up, as quietly as I could, to put him in his crib. Then my toe jammed against something, and it nearly pierced the skin. “Shit!”

  The boys both started screaming again. I brought Abel back out into the hall to put him to sleep. Once he settled down, I put him back in his crib, but then Andrew started crying, so I had to take him out. Once I got Andrew settled down and back in his crib, Abel started up again.

  It went back and forth like that for hours with no sign of improvement. Once I got one twin asleep, the other would wake his brother up.

  I finally set them both down with pacifiers and teddy bears and walked back into the hall to check my phone. It was five-thirty, which meant that I’d spent the entire night with the boys. I decided to call Mona.

  She answered. “I’ll be pulling up in a second.”

  “Thank God. I’m dying. The boys kept me up all night.”

  “Are they sleeping now?”

  I took a quick look inside. Abel was sitting up in the back of his crib holding onto his teddy bear, and Andrew was laying on his back reaching up toward his mobile. “No, they’re wide awake. But at least they’ve stopped crying.”

  “That’s all right. I’m pulling up now. I’ll get them to sleep.” She hung up.

  I went down to greet her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you; you know that?”

  “You’d find somebody else.” She took her jacket off and hung it on the coat rack.

  “No, you can’t be replaced. You’re part of the family.”

  I thought I caught her blushing. She started walking upstairs. The boys were both screaming when she came in. But as soon as she grabbed Abel, he stopped crying. His brother followed suit.

  “I don’t know how you do that.” I watched as she rocked him back and forth slowly in her arms, shushing him softly.

  “They need a woman’s touch.”