Page 2 of Fake Summer Boss
I laugh with her, then look back at my phone.
Oh no.
No, no,no.
Claudia used the phrase “send it.” And my phone did what she said. I stare in horror at the text I just sent my boss.
Hello, Mr. Wentworth. Sorry to bother you, but it’s urgent. There’s nobody available for the Gillis assignment this weekend, and I know we want to impress them. Snack? Stressed. I’m always stressed, working for someone who is impossible to please. But sure. Could I please get a slice of Ray’s famous apple pie, along with the secret to making my ice king boss forgive me if I don’t make a miracle happen?
I try to unsend the message, but it’s already been read. I stare in horror at the three floating dots below it, but then thankfully they disappear.
My entire body tenses, fire surging into my cheeks. Maybe Claudia can also put in an order to the kitchen for a giant hole that will swallow me up and send me to an alternate dimension?
I just burned through two months’ worth of savings on the move here. Without this job, I won’t survive.
And when Mr. Fussy reads that, I’m definitely fired.
2
MACK
Well, shit.
I didn’t realize I was such an asshole.
Layne has been a model employee. She’s efficient, the clients and guards all love her, and she’s organized several things that I’d thought were lost causes. Christine said she was a dream to train before she left and had nothing but great things to say about her.
I had no clue that my bare bones communication style had been bothering her.
Shame on me. Layne doesn’t deserve to be stressed out when she’s been doing such a great job. I should have told her she was doing well.
The poor girl must feel awful. That text was obviously sent by mistake. She must be beside herself trying to figure out how I'm going to react.
Ugh. This is what I get for having no women in my life.
I’m always dealing out information in so many directions that I feel that the bare minimum is always best. No room for error that way. Christine tried to train me to warm up in clientemails, and I’ve been working on it, but I always had her skim the important ones before sending them.
It feels weird to say all this to a woman I’ve never met but who practically runs my company, though. How can I explain that I’m extremely smart in some ways, and apparently utterly stupid in others?
My fingers tighten on the wheel as I weave through traffic. There’s only one place in Kingsville that would have “Ray’s famous apple pie”: Ray’s Diner.
Pulling into its parking lot, I notice it’s fairly quiet before the dinner rush. I hurry inside, straightening my jacket while scanning the room. Teenagers in the back with sodas and fries. Two older men chatting about last night’s game. A server in a blue waitress dress. And?—
I stop mid-step, nearly tripping over my feet. The only person who could possibly be Layne is…stunning.
The beautiful young woman has a laptop open in front of her, scanning page after page at top speed while taking notes in a spiral notebook a safe distance from a plate with a half-eaten slice of apple pie. There’s a beige puddle on the side. I guess she already ate the ice cream.
Her dark hair is pulled back in a casual braid, accenting her delicate features. Brilliantly clear blue eyes. Soft, pale cheeks. A full bottom lip that triggers a twist of emotion through the center of my chest. And her curves…the swell of her breasts under that dark gray shirt…
She’s wearing loose fitting pants, and sitting down, so I can only imagine her full, round hips and ass. But still. My mouth is practically watering just from staring at her. Which is totally inappropriate.
It kills me that I’ve been making this lovely young woman so stressed out that she needs to dive into the ice cream first. She’sfrowning at her laptop, but then her chin snaps up when she notices me hovering.
I nod to the seat across from her. “May I?”
She eyes me warily. “I’m working.”
I take a seat anyway, then extend my hand with what I hope is my warmest smile. “Mack Wentworth. Your ice king boss, who apparently stresses you out.”
