Dad sighs heavily. “Behave.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say seriously with a nod.
“You’re as terrible as your sisters,” he says, patting his heart. He jokes all the time about how our “antics” are going to give him a heart attack by constantly raising his blood pressure. But he’s been saying that for years, and so far, so good.
“But you still love us,” I say with a laugh.
The corner of his lips lifts with a smile. “Too much for my own good,” he says before taking his leave.
Forest closes the office door behind Dad and immediately turns on me, dropping his laptop bag, bracing his hands on my desk. “Let’s get one thing straight—I am your supervisor, whether you like it or not, and you will treat me as such. Your dad might not send you to HR, but I certainly will. Leave your insults at the door when you come to work, act professionally, and there won’t be any problems.”
I cross my legs, my pleated skirt riding up my thighs, and I lean back in my chair with a snort. “Yeah, good luck with that, BigDawg.”
He tightens his annoyingly beautiful, light brown eyes. “It’s ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Woods’ when we’re at work.”
“Whatever you say, BigDawg.”
Forest’s face twists with bewilderment. “What are you, twelve?”
“I’ll be twenty-one next month.” I cross my arms and tilt my head to the side. “Wait, you didn’t think I was twelve when you were staring at my ass, did you?”
Forest snaps up straight, backing away. “No!”
“No, you didn’t think I was twelve, or no, you weren’t staring at my ass?”
“Enough,” Forest barks, which brings me up short. “We are here to work, not goof off.” His eyes drop to my chest. “And button your shirt.”
My brows fly up, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, as I confirm that two of the middle buttons on my long-sleeve, pale-blue blouse have come undone. After my hair and eyes, my chest is my most prominent feature. My supervisor is the one acting unprofessionally by simply noticing, let alone pointing it out.
“Yes, sir,” I say with the kind of tone that is anything but respectful. I watch through my lashes as Forest shrugs off his jacket, hangs it on the coat hook by the door, then takes his seat at the much larger desk across from mine.
The office is thick with silence and tension over the next two hours as I pore over my spreadsheets, making note of the clients Forest will need to contact and make introductions. My plan to mess with my new boss is well underway as I sniff the air and wrinkle my nose repeatedly. Forest studiously ignores me, though his keyboard strokes grow increasingly aggressive until he’s all but banging away on his laptop. It’s my fifth exaggerated sniff and cough combo, plus the wave of my hand in front of my nose, that finally breaks Forest.
“I took a shower,” he says through a clenched jaw. He’s going to break a tooth if he keeps doing that.
“You did?” I ask with surprise. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I laugh to myself when Forest throws himself out of his chair and stomps out of the office like a toddler throwing a tantrum. I can barely contain myself when he returns with Megan, our only Human Resources employee. Wow. That really didn’t take long.
“Do you smell that?” I immediately ask Megan.
Megan’s brows bunch for a beat, but then she sniffs the air. “Hmm, yes. It’s a little musty in here. Slightly sour.” She turns to Forest. “You don’t smell that?”
Forest’s jaw drops open with a flush to his cheeks, and he takes a subtle sniff of his armpits.
“I’ll pick up one of those plug-in air fresheners on my lunch break.” Megan smiles at Forest, then at me when she asks, “You’re still available to babysit on the fourteenth, right?”
“Sure am. See you at six,” I say brightly, waving when she leaves.
“You said you only babysit for family,” Forest says with an accusatory tone, pointing his finger at me.
“Megan is my cousin.” A second one, twice removed, or something like that, but with the same platinum blonde hair that should have clued him in. The gene runs strong in my family. “You couldn’t tell?”
Forest drops down in his chair with his elbows on his desk, and he shoves the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Of course she is.” His face has fallen when he looks up, appearing as bedraggled as he did last night. “I don’t actually stink, do I?”
Having some mercy, I rise, cross the short distance to his side of the office, and sniff the air around him. “No, you don’t.” I don’t tell him that he, in fact, smells amazing—like sea spray and sage.What cologne does he wear?“Must be something else that stinks, though I don’t know what it could be.”
He leans back in his chair, swiveling to face me, straightening his long legs out in front of him with his ankles crossed. Boring socks peek above his expensive brogues. “So you’re just messing with me?”
