Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,21

forced smile. “Sure.”

“No school. No school. No school!” Mary bopped up and down and danced, her blonde curls bouncing side to side. She was like a hopping bunny.

“Are you doing something with the girls this morning?” Because I sure as hell would not be. I had work to do, and it did not include babysitting his nieces.

He shook his head and looked at Sarah, and then his eyes landed on me again. “No, no, I’m the only one here to take care of things. But I’ll need to make my afternoon meetings.” Then, he began to stare at me in that expectant way, as though he were going to ask me a very important question but wasn’t sure how to frame it.

I could read all the thoughts running rampant in his head and also the reluctance in his eyes, knowing that I would reject his request because he knew me so well.

“Plus, Mason is in Ohio, and Charles is on his honeymoon, so that leaves me …”

Then, he simply stared, opened his mouth, and shut it again.

His eyes flickered to Sarah and me and then to Sarah again. Mary continued to suck on her candy, taking it out to examine it and then shoving it back in her mouth.

“Hey, I’m gonna be right back. I just need to discuss business with Sonia, but I’ll just be outside that door.” Then, he smiled the most awkward smile. His teeth were clenched so hard that his cheeks stretched like a woman who’d had too much Botox.

I followed him out his office door and over to my desk.

“We had a situation this morning.” Brad lowered his voice as if he were afraid anyone else would hear.

I walked around him to sit in front of my computer and booted up.

He looked at the ceiling, placed his hands on his hips, and took deep breaths. “God help me.”

He stood there, praying or whatever he was doing for far too long. To be honest, he was beginning to scare me, but I showed no mercy. Whatever he had to take care of regarding his nieces was his issue. I would handle everything work-related that was within my capacity.

“Sarah got her …” He circled the air with his pointer fingers. “… this morning.” Then, he blinked, taking deep breaths in. “And so, now …” He tapped my desk twice. “… she needs …” He widened his eyes as though I’d understand him better if he did. “She needs stuff.” He moved his hands in some sort of box-like figure, looking at me as though I understood his weird language.

“Stuff?” I quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Weird box-like hand movements happened again. Then, he pointed to his private area. “Stuff.”

“Um, a penis?” I smirked.

He obviously did not think my joke was funny.

“No. Women stuff.” He nodded slowly as though I was supposed to understand him better.

I nodded, too, mimicking him and biting the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from bursting into laughter. “You mean, pads?”

“Yes!” He lifted his head to the ceiling, his whole body going lax once I’d uttered those words.

I let out a low laugh. “Feminine products,” I simply stated.

“Yes. Exactly. So, will you get her the products?”

“No,” I snapped, straight up, real, and without argument. I turned to my computer and opened up his schedule for the day.

He reeled back as though the answer shocked him. No one ever said no to Brad, but I had grown thick skin since I was hired here years ago. Except for where it came to Jeff, I guessed. But still, I already picked up his dry cleaning and took his shoes to get polished. I had to draw the line somewhere and feminine products was that line.

“No? No,” he repeated as though testing out the word and hearing it for the first time. “That’s interesting. I’ve never, ever heard that word come from a woman before. My nieces, sure, but definitely not a grown woman.”

At least he’d looped me in with the big girls.

“I’d like you to reconsider.”

His cocky self was back, and I realized I preferred the awkward, nervous Brad. He was less demanding.

I kept my face firm, but neutral. “No. I am not paid to get your niece’s feminine products. It’s not part of my job description.”

He frowned. “I’m pretty sure it is,” he countered.

This guy. The nerve. I reached in my desk, opened the drawer, and plucked out my original contract from two years ago. I placed the crumpled piece of paper on the desk,