Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(25)

My hour lunch was nearly over, and I had to get back to work, but Sarah’s face scrunched up, and she held my hand with sweet desperation.

“Please stay.”

“Yeah, Sonia. Stay.” Brad tipped his chin toward the counter. “I’ll be right back—in an hour or so,” he scoffed, noting the line almost out the door.

“Please,” Sarah repeated, pushing out her lip.

I remembered the type of conversations that Brad was giving his niece this morning and squeezed her hand right back. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Fifteen minutes later—not an hour later—Brad had the taco in his mouth, and I’d never heard him praise anything more.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here. You’ve been holding out on me, Sonia.”

I simply smiled.

He said, “You’re right. This is the best taco I’ve ever had.”

I responded with, “I’m always right.” Because there were rare occasions when I was ever wrong unless you counted my taste in men.

“If you are always right …” He stuffed escaping lettuce into his mouth. “… then tell me what to do about Thomas from Titan Printing. He isn’t budging on our deal, our potential buyout of his company. He wants more money, but his company won’t bring back returns for at least a couple of years. And I’m not budging on the price.”

I blinked at him. He’s asking for my advice? On business? I tapped my fingers against the table. Is there a wrong way or right way to answer this question? I knew nothing about acquisitions, but I could offer honesty.

“I don’t know anything about business, hostile takeovers, or anything like that. I can imagine that it’s all a money game, but if this guy is like you and your brothers, you care about the people who work for you.”

He stopped, his taco hanging midair, and intently looked at me.

I laughed. “Let’s forget the fact that you don’t know anyone’s names, but you care that they are compensated properly, that the Christmas parties and promotional parties continue, and that everyone is happy and morale is high.” I picked off a chip from his plate and stuffed it in my mouth. “That’s why you send those questionnaires all the time.”

He waved his taco toward his niece. “See, I’m not the mean one after all.”

“I never said you were. But I think those questionnaires were Uncle Mason’s idea,” Sarah added.

He pulled at the end of her hair. “Playing favorites again.” Then, he turned to me with that intense look as though my opinion really did matter. “Go ahead. You were saying?”

I blinked, surprised at his value of my opinion. Then, I cleared my throat and began again. “Well, besides the whole money part, I’m sure, even though he might be a dick like you said, he can’t possibly be so heartless to not care for the future of his employees who have families to support.” A gush of energy rushed through me as a thought pushed through. “So, next time you talk to him, go with that angle. That, although you can’t promise the employment of every employee, you can guarantee that you would try to place all you could with permanent positions and that we have good benefits at Brisken.”

He examined me and stopped eating altogether. After a beat, he let out a satisfied smile. “You’re a smart one, you know that?” He pointed to me and then took another bite of his taco. “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”

“Smartest cookie in the cookie jar.” A flush warmed my cheeks. I wasn’t used to getting compliments, especially from Brad. “And correction, Charles and Mason hired me.”

Brad’s phone buzzed on the countertop, and the screen read, Worst Sitter. The smile slipped from his face, and he let out an exasperated sigh. “Do I even have to answer this?” He placed his taco on the napkin, the grease of the steak seeping through. He took another napkin, wiped the corner of his mouth, and then picked up. “Annie.”

No hello. No how are you. With Brad, you got what you got.

“Oh. So, you couldn’t bring the girls to school this morning, and now, you can’t pick up Mary?” His voice was low, menacing, yet he was smiling. “Mmhmm. Yep. Is that it? Mmhmm.”

His smile widened, and he reached for his taco. Tiny goose bumps formed on the back of my neck at the evil glint in his eyes.

I glanced at Sarah, and she sliced her neck with her pointer finger in an off with her head motion.

“Don’t worry about it.” His tone hitched up in pitch, so un-Brad-like. “I’ll pick up Mary myself. I’ll just cancel my two, three, and four o’clock meetings today. I already canceled my morning meetings because you couldn’t drop them off.” This wasn’t entirely true, but he kept on going anyway. “I’m assuming, since you didn’t do your duties today, tomorrow will be more of the same and the day after that and after that, but it’s okay because you’re fired.” Then, he hung up and retook a bite of his taco, as though nothing had happened.

My mouth slipped ajar, and Sarah bit her cheek and held her stomach, one second from bursting from laughter.

“I think I’m going to have to take another one of these tacos to go,” Brad added, unaffected.

Sarah let out a peal of laughter and collapsed against the booth. “Oh boy.” She cackled. “Uncle Mason is going to be pissed.”