Hired Hottie - Kelsie Rae Page 0,8
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