Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(23)

There was no backup plan. Brad had to come with me. I couldn’t come with a dud. Maybe I could hire someone? But I didn’t have that kind of cash.

“He’ll agree to it.” But, as those words slipped out of my mouth, there was no certainty in my voice.

Would he? This wasn’t your typical boardroom deal, but he’d promised me.

Sarah rushed out of Brad’s office. “Uncle Brad wants to go with us to lunch. Can you please tell him no? He’s being so annoying today.” Her eyes skittered behind her, her voice frantic.

I smiled at her and then told Ava I’d call her back.

“I can’t. He’s my boss.” I dropped the phone back into the receiver.

“He’s having the worst possible conversation with me right now. Like, how I’m turning into a woman now.” She grimaced. “And I know he’s reading a script because he’s staring at his computer screen the whole time as he does it and pauses to ask me if I have questions.”

I cringed, knowing how uncomfortable she must feel, but I had to give him some credit. At least he was trying.

Then, sympathy kicked in. My mother had gone through the motions with me, read me all the books, and we’d have long talks about puberty. Sarah’s mother was gone. Her only info was from what she had been getting from sex ed in school or from Becky.

She plopped down in the seat by my desk. “And then, somehow, the conversation turned into a ‘boy’ talk.” She placed the word in air quotes. “And about how I shouldn’t date until I’m thirty. And to finish school. It’s not like I’m not gonna finish school. I want to go and finish college.” She slapped her forehead. “Doesn’t he know that?”

It was amazing how kids were so animated with their hands when they talked. My sixteen-year-old sister was the same way.

Yeah, Brad was taking this personal counseling session a little too far.

I placed a tender hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll tell him you want girl time, alone.”

My desk phone rang with two beeps that indicated that Brad was beckoning. I pressed the receiver and picked up. “Hello? I’ll order your lunch. We are just about to leave.” Direct and to the point, and I hadn’t asked him to come with me. It was my way of helping Sarah out. I threw her a sideways glance and winked.

“I’m going to lunch with you guys.” His tone was clipped, short, and brooked no argument. “You have to give me at least fifteen minutes until I call a couple of clients back.” Then, he hung up.

Rude much? I stared at the phone. “He hung up on me. Again. Is your uncle always so rude?”

She nodded and then picked up my Harry Potter bobblehead at the edge of my desk. “Always. Mostly to Uncle Mason. They’re close in age, and that’s why they fight so much. At least, that’s what Dad says.”

“Nice to know he’s consistent. I was starting to get offended.”

I shot him an e-mail, stood from my chair, and then grabbed my purse from my drawer. “I’ll get him lunch on our way back. I just e-mailed him.” He’d be pissed, and I’d probably pay for this later, but ask me if I cared. Sarah and I were on a mission—to spend quality time together and get tacos, alone.

Sarah’s face relaxed, and she placed down my favorite figurine. She linked her arm through mine as I led us to the elevators.

“And to Gomez’s Burritos we shall go,” I singsonged.





We were seated in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, right by the window where we could people-watch outside. The scent of meats and spices and grease in the air bombarded our senses.

Gomez’s Burritos did not disappoint.

“Mary loves quesadillas. We have to take her here.” Sarah took an overly big bite of her burrito, the sauce dripping onto the tin foil wrapper it had come in.

I almost forgot how hungry teenagers were, but then again, it was her time of the month.

After putting her burrito down, she reached for a chip and dipped it in the salsa. “But she’s weird. She puts sugar on everything. Pizza and spaghetti, and I bet she’d put it on this quesadilla, too. Funny enough, Brad is her dealer.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, mid-chew.

After I spooned some of the best Mexican rice in the universe into my mouth, I leaned in closer. “Dealer?”

“Mary’s sugar dealer.” Sarah laughed, seeming to recall a memory.

She had the brownest eyes and an endless amount of curls that lay mid-shoulder. She was beautiful. I could see Charles in her features. In her square, delicate face and in her eyebrow that would quirk up whenever she was thinking a little too hard. But that was where the similarities ended, and I wondered about their mother and what she had looked like.

My heart clenched at her loss. I couldn’t imagine life without my mother and father. Our family was crazy, and when one was missing from our get-togethers, it was like losing a limb.

“Dad tries to monitor Mary’s sugar, but then you’ll have Uncle Brad supplying her behind his back. He carries pouches of sugar or candy with him, just for her.” She put down her burrito and swiped at her eyes as laughter escaped her. “Ask him about it. Ask him if he has some sugar. He stores it in his pockets, and one time, it was in his sock ’cause he had nowhere else to hide it.”

Okay. A little over the top there, Brad.