Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,61

appear as if she was either going to pass out, cry, or hug me. I mean, I got it. Respect your boss, and follow the rules. It’s as easy as that. At least that’s how I envisioned working a job.

I could say with one-hundred-percent certainty, however, that even if I didn’t know Jim from my vacation, I wouldn’t have behaved the way everyone else seemed to when he entered a room. I wouldn’t have hidden behind my computer, freaked the hell out if he approached me, trembled when I talked to him—all the shit I watched everyone, except for the suit-crew, do. I thought it was fucking weird, but maybe that’s how all big businesses ran when the owner was around.

“So, he came to your floor,” Brit said, “and then what? Finish your thought, Avery.”

“Sorry. He brought Addy and me to the preschool that’d rejected her. He seemed pretty pissed that old lady had sent more kids than just Addy away.”

“You think he remembered you?” She lowered her voice on the phone while I finished making Addy her breakfast.

“Finish, quick, Addy,” I said, wanting to get our breakfast dishes in the sink before we walked out the door. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Avery.”

“Jesus, Britney, I don’t know. I’m trying to get out of here on time.”

“Good Lord, he had to have remembered you. He probably wouldn’t have done what he did if he didn’t.”

“Would it have mattered?” I said. “I mean, yeah. He remembered me. How could he not? He stared at my face for almost an entire week, so unless he’s senile, he knows who I am. He asked how long I’d been working there, so it must’ve crossed his mind that maybe I worked for him all along.” Addy got up from the table and slid on her red sequin ballet flats. She wore them with everything, no matter how much they clashed with her outfit. It was pretty adorable. “I don’t have time to talk about it right now, though. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later. Gotta go.”

“Okay, okay. Have a good day, and call me later,” Brit said before I ended the call.

“Let’s hit it, kid,” I said to Addy. “We’re seriously going to be late if there’s too much traffic.”

“I work with you today, Mommy?” Addy asked as we walked out the door, and I locked it behind us.

“No. I don’t think so. That nice man—my big boss—he helped you get promoted yesterday.”

“Mitch,” she said. “My friend.”

We were at the car in record time, and Addy didn’t give me any hassle when I buckled her in. “He’s the boss too, Addy,” I said, kissing her forehead and moving toward the driver’s seat.

You piece of shit car, start already, I internally demanded. “Please, God, do not let me get fired because of you,” I slammed on the steering wheel. “You stupid, stupid, car!”

“This car is stupid,” Addison said.

“Don’t say stupid. It’s a bad word. Mommy shouldn’t say it either.”

“Oh, Mom. You say bad words, I don’t.”

The car started. “Thank God,” I said.

“I know. God is happy that I say good words.”

“God doesn’t like Mommy saying the bad ones.” I gave her a sheepish look while backing out. “I need to work on that. I’m sorry.”

“I won’t say stupid.” She covered her mouth, “Sorry. That S-word.”

“Don’t say any S-words, how about that?” I smiled.

“I can’t say silly?”

“You can say that one,” I said with a laugh.

We were close enough to work to avoid freeways, which was a miracle in itself. We pulled into the parking structure, passed all the fancy cars, and found a place on the second level. “Sweet, right by the elevators.”

That’s when I saw the sign.

“Reserved for management,” I said in defeat. “Well, maybe Mom will be promoted to manager one day, and this will be our parking place.”

“Mitch will promote you. He promoted me.”

“Addy, you don’t even know the word.” I laughed. “However, we need to work on our big words. We haven’t done that in a while. So, our word for the day is promote or promoted.”

“Mitch does it,” she answered.

“Yes, he probably does. Other people do it too. It works in different ways and has different meanings, but for you and me, it means to get a better thing—to do a bigger job and to make more money.”

“We need a new car, mommy.”

“You don’t like Bunny anymore?”

“Bunny is so tired, Mommy.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll need a really good promotion to get a new car.”

“Daddy got one.”

I rolled my eyes and slipped the keys

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