Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“There. All better, mister!”
“Not quite. Where’s your mother?” I look around, but there’s no sign of parents. Who lets their kid raise bedlam in a place like this? “You need to get down.”
“No! My mommy says never go anywhere with a stranger.”
“Of all the lessons he remembers…” I mutter. “What’s your name, kid?”
“I’m not supposed to tell strangers. I’m not gonna tell you!”
“Just—please, get off the sofa. That’s all I’m asking. I’ll give you another pastry if you do.” Bribery. That’s one thing I’ve learned from watching Archer raise Colt practically alone. It works when you use it just right.
Unfortunately, I don’t have my older brother’s dad experience.
The boy folds his arms and glares at me. “I wanted hot cocoa but it tastes like crap.”
Out of habit, I look at the coffee bar. It’s been destroyed.
Coffee pools across the counter. A couple overturned paper cups and napkins are soaking up the mess as the rest drips on the floor.
That means the little hellraiser must’ve drank some coffee.
This morning just keeps getting better.
“Where are your parents?” I ask again, grabbing a gob of tissues and dipping them into the puddles of coffee, which instantly bleeds through to my hands.
Fuck.
Really, I should call someone, but by the time a cleaner shows up, I’ll already have met the manager. The last thing I need is for them to see this chaos and panic, wondering what kind of clown show they’ve signed on to.
“My mom’s here,” the kid says, starting to bounce on the sofa again.
“Stop bouncing, for God’s sake.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Damn, would it be so bad if I picked this munchkin up and restrained him?
I’m considering it until a woman starts yelling.
“Arlo!” She races across the floor, her heels clicking, young by the looks of it. Somehow, she seems weirdly familiar with her dark hair twisted up in a bun and hazel eyes shining with worry.
Soon, she grabs the boy’s arm and helps him off the sofa.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe this.” With a ragged breath, she looks at me. “Sir, I’m so sorry for this. I have no words. Arlo, you apologize.”
The kid—Arlo—shuffles his feet.
“Sorry, mister,” he mumbles, watching me sourly.
“I’m really sorry for my son again,” she says, looking back at me. There’s a flicker of something in her eyes like she recognizes me too. Or maybe she’s just about to die from shame because her tornado of a son just wrecked the brand-new common area. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I stepped away for ten seconds to get some printouts from the back. Holy shit, never again.”
I give her son the stink eye.
“You’re an employee, then. Unfortunately, we can’t have children here, you understand?” I wait for her to nod. “We’re just getting up and running. I have important business to attend to, I’m afraid, so I’m going to have to ask you to—”
“I know.” Her cheeks are flaming.
My eyes drift down to the rest of her.
Neat figure. Supple hips. Curves that would tell any idiot why she has a kid.
She might be a flustered mom, but I have to admit she’s rocking the MILF look.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she continues. “The babysitter skipped out at the last minute. Family emergency. I didn’t have anywhere else for him to go, and I know how important it is to be here today. I’m sorry for the mess. Really. Here, let me clean that up.” She grabs a wad of napkins and tries mopping up some of the coffee flood without much more success than I had. “Um, he’s not usually like this, just so you know. He’s a good kid, I promise.”
“Sure.” My veins ice over.
“Look, this won’t be a regular occurrence. You don’t need to worry about that.”
Regular?
I sure as hell hope not.
If I see this kid demolishing the place again, I’ll flip my lid. Also, she needs to quit apologizing before someone—probably me, admittedly—loses their cool.
First impressions are God. If the new manager from our mentor program walked in right now and saw this shit show…
Let’s just say I doubt there’d be a second impression. And that would instantly be my fault with Dex and Archer breathing down my neck.
“Who are you, anyway? Are you cleaning or accounting? We’re not supposed to have any other staff on duty today.”
“Oh, right. Hi, I’m Salem. Salem Hopper?” She blinks at me like the name should mean something, offering me a hand while she keeps mopping coffee with more napkins. “Your new intern. Er, manager, I mean.”
My manager.
My goddamned manager.
This day just charged into first place for historic disasters.
“Patton,” I growl back, annoyed at myself for having the MILF thought a minute ago.
My brothers might think I’m an idiot when it comes to dating, but I don’t dip my pen in the company ink. Ever.