Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,115

their eyes, the blush in Maria’s cheeks when she passed me on the street. They couldn’t exactly say anything to me when I owned the whole building.

I flipped through The Wall Street Journal, sipping my black coffee. Mason was sitting at the kitchen table, opposite me, reading the same paper, only his coffee was a creamy light brown, full of sugar and milk and more like a dessert. I called it his girlie drink.

My parents had always wanted a girl. They’d prayed, gone to church, promised God things that they couldn’t possibly deliver. After Charles and I were born, I had known they were hoping for less testosterone, and they’d gotten it in the form of Mason.

The way he combed his hair, pressed every article of clothing, even his undershirts, and his choice of a margarita over hard liquor or beer proved he was the answer to their prayers. I chuckled, just thinking about it.

My favorite laughter and footsteps echoed from the other room. Sweet Mary was coming. On cue, the table was set—eggs, bacon, and pancakes on every plate—and the lunches were made.

We all sat down together, as a family, which had become our weekly routine. Not every day, not every breakfast or dinner, but at least three to four times a week.

This was what I had missed over the last few weeks when I was spending my time with Sonia. I only realized I’d missed it now that I was here because I’d been consumed by everything that was Sonia, my girlfriend. I was almost tempted to ask her to move in, into this house, so I could have the best of both worlds. But I had guessed it would have come to this eventually, me moving out.

I’d always thought that Mason would be the first to go, marry the gold digger and move out. Who knew what their relationship status was now? I guessed it surprised me that I would move out before him.

“Uncle Brad …” Mary pouted, swirling her pancake in a pool-sized puddle of syrup. “You haven’t been home to tell me the story of the prince and his crown jewels.”

Becky spit up her coffee. Mason glared at me.

Charles simply asked, “Crown jewels?”

I’d been telling the same story to Mary for years. Had they never paid attention?

“Yeah, crown jewels.” Mary pushed out her lip. “I don’t like it when you stay in the city. That’s not your home. This is.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me, mad like the kitten she was.

“It’s different now, Mary. He has a girlfriend now,” Sarah added with a smile too happy for her own good.

“Girlfriend? Who? I thought I was the only one who’s supposed to be your girlfriend.” She slammed her fork against the plate, and I laughed.

Boy, oh boy.

I eyed Charles, and he simply shook his head, amused.

We’d thought that we had issues with Sarah’s teenage rebellion. Wait till Mary turned into a teenager. I imagined she would be worse.

Sarah threw Mary an are you dumb look. “Sonia? Remember her?”

“Oh.” Mary relaxed back against her chair, and her smile resurfaced. “When are we going to have dinner with her here?”

“Soon.” I sipped my coffee. “Real soon.”

Becky reached over and fixed Mary’s white collar on her blue plaid uniform. “Maybe … if Uncle Brad is up for it, you can go spend the night at his place on a weekend.”

Mary sat straighter and bounced in her seat. “Oh. Can I, can I, can I?”

With a nod of my head, I once again had a happy Mary. “Now, go eat your food, sweet Mary. You’ll be late.”

After breakfast and in typical weekday fashion, we all stood. The girls got their backpacks ready for school. Becky assisted in giving them their lunches. I cleaned up the table. Charles washed the dishes, and Mason loaded the dishwasher. We were a well-oiled, domesticated machine.

The girls made their rounds with good-bye hugs and kisses. When Becky grabbed the keys from Charles, I turned toward him.

“You’re not taking the girls to school?”

Because he always took the girls to school, right before driving straight to work. We all drove separately.

“No, Becky will take them.” He pecked Becky on the lips before turning to me. “We have to talk.”

My spine straightened, and I blinked up at him. I knew who and what this conversation was going to be about. Had they caught us having sex in the utility closet? Or my desk? I swore, my door had been locked. My hands