Junkyard Dog(12)

“Yes.”

Smiling, Candy stops petting the dog and glances at her nervous sister. Despite sharing long, blonde hair and big, dark eyes, the sisters are polar opposites personality-wise. In fact, when Nightmare shoves his nose in Candy’s crotch, she looks unfazed while pushing him away.

“Tell your dog he needs to buy me dinner before he sniffs there.”

Grinning, I force my gaze away from her and check out my meeting room full of kids. The smaller blond ones are watching cartoons on a tablet. Candy’s two sit in a corner playing something on their mom’s phone.

“Don’t let them stink up the place,” I mutter.

“Yeah, we don’t want to distract from the cigar smell.”

“Funny,” I grunt before snapping for Nightmare to follow me.

For a few hours, I pretend to work, but I’m mostly interested in seeing Candy. I often check on the women. Honey cleans while Candy goes through each box and sings along with songs. I suspect she knows her singing voice is terrible, making her confidence more appealing.

Eventually, Candy tells the kids to clean up and get ready to go. Before she leaves, she appears at my office door.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Candy grins, but I don’t know why. She’s in a good mood, and smiles come easily when she’s happy. I’ve seen her in a bad mood too, and she does very little to hide negative emotions.

“I’ll work on the mess during the week and see about coming back next weekend.”

“Fine.”

“It’s the kids, isn’t it?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. “You love children so much and seeing them makes your ovaries quiver.”

“Goodbye,” I say, despite my smirk.

“See you Monday.”

I only nod and watch her disappear from my doorway. The kids make a racket on their way out of the office and then the place falls silent. I look at Nightmare, who doesn’t care either way. I’m the only person who has ever interested him, and he’s too old to give a shit now.

“What now?” I ask the dog.

Nightmare walks into the main office and sniffs everything anyone new touched. He’s pissed about the new stink. Watching him, I realize the feeling I’m nursing isn’t f*cking boredom. For the first time in years, I’m lonely and all because of a mouthy blonde with a horrible singing voice.





TEN - CANDY


Between moving into the house and cleaning the office, I’m exhausted from organizing crap. At least at the house, I’m working with a blank slate. The office is a frigging mess. I have to check every slip of paper in every box. I’ve counted at least thirty boxes, but I know more are hidden behind the main stack. Half of what’s in the boxes is trash, and the half are business papers dating back a decade. I can’t believe Hayes is so successful with such a train wreck system.

“How do you function?” I ask Hayes when he appears from his office.

I notice he comes out every hour or so to check on me. I don’t mind since it saves me from checking on him. We’ve been playing this peeking game since the weekend.

“I have a company that deals with payroll and the financial crap. These are my personal copies.”

“Why is it such a mess?”

Hayes crosses his arms and leans against a desk hiding under boxes. “Years ago, I had a real assistant. Tammie was a good woman, but her back went out, and she got behind on shit. Then she started calling in sick a lot, and the temps didn’t know what the f*ck they were doing. Once she went on disability, I was stuck with morons. This is the result.”

“Is Tammie still alive?”

“She moved to Florida to be closer to her grandchildren.”

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

Suspecting he’s lying, I smile at his bravado. “Will you miss me when I move to Florida to be closer to my grandchildren?”

Hayes shrugs. “You’re not horrible at your job so far. Too mouthy, but most women are.”

“So you’ll miss me then?”

“You have your skills.”

“Can you be more specific about my qualities? I’m feeling insecure.”

Hayes rolls his eyes, but I catch him smile. “I’ve been thinking.”

“I’m sure you have. A big businessman like you probably thinks all the time.”

“I’ve been thinking about having an heir.”

“An air?”

“An heir like a kid that’d inherit my business.”

“Oh. Yeah, you wouldn’t want it to end up in the hands of the government.”

“I’d rather burn everything down than have that happen.”

Grinning at his reaction, I nod. “I’m sure you’d make a great dad.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No, but you’re smart. You might learn how to be a great dad by the time the kid is old enough to notice.”

“You’re healthy, right?”

“Healthy like I eat salads?”

“No, like you’re capable of creating and carrying a baby.”

“Sure,” I mumble, unsure where he’s going with this line of questions.