Boss I Love to Hate: An Office Romance(8)

Mary rushed toward Mason’s side, this time charming him. “Look at me!” As though she were flying through our kitchen, she flapped her hands, using them as pretend wings. “Can you guess what I am?”

He knelt beside her and then kissed the top of her head. “Butterfly.” Then, he clutched her against him, closed his eyes, and released a long, heavy sigh for everyone to hear.

Dramatic much? With Mason, always.

His eyes flipped to mine. “Sarah?”

“Upstairs,” I said. And moody, I thought but didn’t add.

He breathed out again. “Okay. Okay.” He patted down Mary’s hair and kissed her forehead.

“They went to Great America. An hour away.” My slightly enraged smile tightened.

His still and stoic features changed. His eyebrows pulled together, and he did one very slow blink. A Mason blink. The blink that said he wasn’t a happy uncle.

He stood and then addressed the to-be-fired babysitter. “Hi, Annie.”

At least he had manners; I had to give him that.

His gaze moved to my niece, most likely excusing her to yell at the babysitter. “Mary, why don’t you get ready for bed? Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes! Cotton candy.” Her eyes widened, and she jumped up and down in sugar-induced fashion.

Mason stared at me now and then again with a slow blink and the tilt of his head.

Internally, I laughed. This girl was a goner. Fired. Off on her ass. I’d gladly let him do it because he was the calmer and more professional one. I would have just told her to get out and stalked upstairs to change out of my work clothes.

After Mary galloped upstairs, I walked toward the kitchen island and leaned against it, waiting for a show.

“Annie,” Mason began, using his disappointed tone that said I’m better than you, but I won’t make you feel like it, “didn’t you have your phone with you? We tried calling you.”

“Oh, you did?” The straw hung at the side of her mouth as she dug to the bottom of her purse. The annoying slurping sounds of her straw grated on my nerves. “Oh, you did.” She reached for her cell, gripping the phone and showing us fifteen missed calls. She smiled and then shrugged. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry.

Then, the slow blink happened.

I averted my gaze, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.

“It’s important that you have that cell phone accessible at all times. We were worried sick. And the girls can’t be going to Great America on a weeknight. They’re cranky in the mornings, and they need all the sleep they can get.”

I sat on the barstool, texted Charles that everything was okay with the girls, and rested my chin on my hand, elbow on our center island.

Get this over with, Mason. Fire her ass already.

He continued, “What happened today is not acceptable.” Mason proceeded to spit out statistics, being the numbers guy that he was, about how many people go missing daily and kidnappings, and then he went into the land of homicides.

I leaned in, wishing I had a bag of popcorn. Shit, maybe I could tape this showdown, post it on YouTube, and title it “Repercussions of an Irresponsible Babysitter.”

This was going to be good.

“Trips like Great America and activities out of their normal day-to-day school functions have to be approved by us first, okay?”

Wait.

Did he just say okay? Okay? Not okay. I shot up in my seat. What the hell is he waiting for?

Annie nodded and smiled and continued to slurp her coffee through her straw. For shit’s sake, there was nothing left at the bottom of the cup.

“It’s better if we are informed. The girls have a schedule that we have to adhere to.” Mason pointed to the schedule on the fridge that he set up for the girls. “Especially during the weekdays.”

Where is he going with this?

“Just please be considerate,” Mason said.

Be considerate? How about using common sense? How about don’t be an idiot?

This was not going as planned. What was Mason’s deal? If anything, he was stricter than I was when it came to the girls.

I threw him one irritated look, the annoyance pinching my features. And, when Mason’s shake of his head was directed toward me, I was really royally pissed, and it sent me over the edge.

“We were worried sick.” My tone was sharp, cutting, like a blade through the skin. I emphasized the word sick with such force that Annie flinched. “Their father called, and we couldn’t tell him where they were. How would you feel if you were in that situation? Not knowing where your own kids were, not knowing if they were safe, and being out of the country and feeling helpless to do anything about it,” I slowly spat out. Maybe, by speaking slower, she’d understand me better.

Her calm demeanor faded quickly when I stepped closer, needing her to hear those two words that would end her employment.

“It won’t happen again.” Her voice was soft and repentant, but ask me if I cared.

I didn’t. For some reason, I didn’t believe her because she was irresponsible, and you couldn’t trust the irresponsible, not when it came to little lives.

“Damn straight it won’t because you’re—”

“You need to go home now,” Mason cut me off. “Be here bright and early tomorrow morning.” He framed her shoulders and pushed her toward the door.