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Teddy Cat Hester writes sweet romantic comedies and contemporary romances with humor. All her stories are set in the Bowser World of fictional Sycamore Hill, Missouri, and feature canines (and the occasional cow) who connive at keeping couples out of the doghouse. Find more stories with Portia, Dex, and others at teddyhester.com. When not writing Bowser stories, Teddy enjoys reading, watching movies from Hollywood’s Golden Era, and cooking (even though she’s so bad at it, she can burn water).
The Principles of Accounting
Tracy Broemmer
Chapter One
Jed
“She shoots! She scores!”
The football flew through the goalposts just as a tall goddess with dark hair stalked into the break room. Paper football forgotten, Jedidiah Green dropped his hands to the table and stared at the woman as she tossed a plastic salad container down.
“Yes!” Rena threw her fist in the air enthusiastically.
He took a quick peek at the other woman in the room, the one who had just finger-kicked the football and scored the field goal. Fork in her hand again, she shot him a frown.
“What is this?” the goddess asked with a scowl. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
“Your turn,” Rena reminded him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her rummage around the remains of her salad and finally select a worthy piece of lettuce.
“Seriously, Rena?”
Rena glanced at the goddess and looked back at Jed.
“I’m out of the office for a couple of days, and you’re playing finger football?” The goddess turned her back to them and yanked the refrigerator door open. Jed peeked at her backside, impressed with the way she filled out the charcoal gray pencil skirt when she leaned in to grab a bottled water.
He jerked his gaze away when she straightened. He had no idea who she was, but he was smart enough to know not to be caught staring at her when she turned around.
“We are in the break room,” Rena reminded her. Jed flinched, a little stunned that his friend had the guts to speak up to this sour-faced woman. Seriously, though, even sour-faced and scowling, she was beautiful. Jed tipped his head to the side and studied her sharp cheekbones and dark eyes. Maybe that scowl made her even more alluring.
If he was an artist, he would attempt to draw her. Not like a caricature—although if he did do that, he would definitely accentuate the cheekbones. Good grief, she could probably cut glass—
“What?”
He swallowed hard when he realized the goddess was staring at him now.
“Why are you staring?” she snapped. “And. Who. Are. You.”
Caught looking at her, but it was better than her catching him looking at her backside. He blinked when he realized she was still watching, waiting for him to answer. He glanced at Rena when he felt her eyes on him, too.
“Am I gonna find spitballs all over the floor, too?”
Rena snorted and rolled her eyes. “No spitballs.”
“I don’t do spitballs,” Jed mumbled when the goddess turned that scorching stare on him again. “The only reason we’re using a folded paper football is because I forgot my tabletop game.” Without looking away, the woman curled her fingers around the back of a chair—Jed noticed her nails were painted a deep, dark red—and dragged it out. She dropped into the chair and stared at him. “You know. The kind you can get at, like, Walmart.”
“Walmart?” she repeated quietly.
“Yeah. I guess you could probably get it online, too.”
“Who is he?” The goddess finally jerked her gaze from him and looked at Rena.
“Temp.”
Rena’s less than explanatory and much less than flattering introduction left him feeling a bit nervous.
“Tim?” The goddess swung her gaze back to him as she popped open the plastic salad container. Her eyes burned a whole straight through him. Uncomfortable under the weight of her stare, worried he would squirm, he lowered his gaze and studied her salad. Looked like kale and beets and a few twigs sprinkled over the top. He shuddered. Why did women eat stuff like that? He snapped his gaze back up to meet her eyes when she drove her fork into the container and stabbed up a bite of sorrow. “What are you doing here, Tim?”
