Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,17

trying to focus on the positive only. “They’re great people.”

The whole time it was rolling around in my head that I had to keep Sean happy or I was out of a job.

That was the very definition of irony.

After around twenty minutes Sean glanced at the time on his phone and said he had to leave. That was fine with me. We had reached a tenuous truce. I had to retreat into being polite or I was totally screwed.

“See you Monday,” he said, as we walked out of the bar together.

It was raining. That cold, spring spitting of moisture onto us. It was not going to be an enjoyable walk to the bus stop.

“Do you want a ride?” Sean asked. “My car is just down the street.”

I did, because I didn’t want to get wet. But I needed to minimize my exposure to Sean if I wanted to stay sane. “No, thanks,” I said, even as the sky opened up and the mist turned into true rain. The wind increased and my hair blew across my face, blinding me.

When I yanked strands out of my eyes, I saw Sean was grinning and shaking his head. “Stubborn. Even when it gets you wet.”

His choice of words brought me immediately back to the hallway outside of Michael and Felicia’s apartment. Heat bloomed in my cheeks.

Understanding of the innuendo dawned on his face too and he opened his mouth to speak.

I didn’t stick around to hear whatever he might say. “Gotta go, bye, see you Monday.”

It felt like I was running away, which I was. It made me slow my steps. But then the rain really started to come down, and I was forced to pick up the pace yet again, trying desperately not to think about all the ways he could get me wet.

Sean Kincaid made me crazy.

And I hated it.

“Who pissed on your Wheaties?” my grandfather asked, after opening the door for me.

I laughed. “Good to see you, too, Gus.” I wasn’t allowed to call him Grandpa or Gramps or Pops. It was always Gus. Which must have sounded ridiculous when I was five years old, but he wasn’t one for convention.

Gus lived in Alphabet City, in a pre-war rent-controlled apartment that was insanely cheap for New York. He had talked off and on for years about moving to Florida, but he knew if he left the apartment, there was no way he could ever return to New York because he couldn’t afford the rent on a new lease. So he stuck it out winter after winter and grumbled the whole time.

I strongly suspected he stuck around for me too, but the crusty old coot would never admit it. My first instinct whenever something was off in my life was to call Gus and this had been no different. After running away from Sean Kincaid, I had ducked into a coffeeshop, ordered an espresso, and called my grandfather. Something about my tone must have alarmed him because he’d invited me over on the spot.

His apartment smelled like stale cigars and ramen. Gus wasn’t supposed to smoke cigars anymore, certainly not inside, but that was yet another thing he didn’t care about. He did what he wanted. It was unfortunate he didn’t have a balcony but that was a privilege in Manhattan reserved for a lucky few with deep pockets.

“You have that look,” he said. “The one that says you’re stewing over someone or something.”

He wasn’t wrong. I followed him into the apartment and shifted some newspapers off of his sofa and sat down. I shook my hair to get some of the rain off. “Sid and Nico hired a new executive chef and it isn’t me.”

“No? Well, shit, I’m sorry, kid. You’ve been working hard for that.”

The floral cushions of his ancient sofa threatened to swallow me. I tried to push myself further back but I was drowning in stuffing. “I wouldn’t care if it had been Martin, but it’s an outside chef. Martin got pissed and quit and now I’m stuck working for Sean, who I hate.”

“You know him already from the business?” Gus was wearing a Metallica T-shirt and Levi’s. His arms showed off his old Navy tattoos. Lots of anchors and voluptuous women. He sat down in his favorite easy chair.

“No, not really. But I met him at Felicia’s engagement party last Christmas. He’s her brother-in-law and we got stuck in the elevator together. He was such a dick, Gus.”

“And?”

“And he kissed me and it was so hot,”