Page 2 of Played By my Grumpy Boss

Fortunately, I was starting to get used to his magnetic physical presence, a little anyway, although another bolt of hot desire shot up through me when I looked his way. Our eyes met but he looked away immediately, which seemed a little rude to me.

This time he strode away from me, and fast.

Maybe he was already bored of our chat. Shame – I could talk about the greats in furniture design all day. I’d have loved something this stunning in my store – a talking point to put in the window. Although my meager insurance wouldn’t have covered it.

My little business, called Hope and Glory, was more about doing up garage sale and flea market finds and reselling them. I dealt in good honest pine cabinets and wardrobes, which just needed a coat of Farrow & Ball paint and some mismatched ceramic handles to get a second life as chic vintage homewares. I loved being in my workshop out back, painting and refurbishing, almost as much as being at the shore. My mom had looked after Maddy sometimes, or Maddy had been happy in her bouncer or playpen. That was, until she started crawling and then walking – that’s when things got tricky with childcare.

I dealt in, well I had dealt in, mid-century modern statement pieces like huge chairs or tall, arched lamps. Items that would make a studio or loft apartment like this one look incredible. And I loved searching online and bidding on battered leather sofas with classic gentleman’s club shapes that never went out of fashion. That was more my kind of stock in trade than an actual Macintosh. Well, it used to be. Now… what? What next for me and Maddy, after this enforced stop-gap with Alex?

I couldn’t think about that. Not yet. I’d lost my store, and what felt like all my hope for a bright new future had gone with it. I was still smarting too much to look ahead.

“Come through to the kitchen,” Alex said then, stopping and turning as he did, because I hadn’t started walking when he did. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

I followed him then, gazing around me at exposed brick, stunning wood paneling and some of the original store shelving. The place was almost as sexy as its owner. “So, Kayla, she’s thirteen?” I asked, as we went through to a very basic make-shift kitchen, made of cool old junk-shop finds, including a butchers’ block.

“Yep.”

“Wow, I love this too.”

“It’s not finished yet.” He opened the refrigerator.

“It will be beautiful when it is, and it’s great even like this,” I said. “So much light.”

“I thought you could maybe oversee the workmen, if you’re here in the day,” he said then. “Kayla is at her mom’s a lot of the time, and as you’re being paid…”

I cringed inside. For the finished parts of the apartment, Maddy was a terror on two feet and could destroy a place in less than a minute. And for the unfinished parts, Maddy, sharp blades and power tools did not mix. Maybe this whole thing was the worst idea I’d ever had in my life.

“Well, I will if I have time,” I said grumpily. “And if it’s safe for Maddy.”

He was pouring iced tea for us both from a big jug. He hadn’t asked me if I wanted that and that irritated me.

“This work has to be finished before the pre-season starts,” he announced, like that related to anything I just said. “I can’t have the noise and the mess in here when I’m full-on every day, training, and having all the physio and stuff that I need. Some of that happens here. This job is running way behind schedule and I have to get my head in the game for the coming season.”

I only just bit back the words, Excuse me, but how is any of this my problem? Luckily, I managed to control myself and just replied, “Mmmmm.”

“And Kayla’s sick of it,” he added, with a frown, handing me a glass. “She’s made that very clear.” The frown turned to an ungracious scowl.

Kayla. She was the reason I was here. Focus on that, I told myself. “I’m excited to meet your daughter,” I told him, finding my professional stance again.

“Kayla, get out here!” he yelled suddenly, startling me. He turned to me, “I called her before you came, twice. But she’s either completely ignoring me, or she’s got her headphones on.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s not ignoring-.”

“She probably is,” he said, cutting in and talking over me. Part of me thought, if he took that tone with me, I’d ignore him too.

As we waited in stony silence for Kayla to appear, I couldn’t help brooding over the building site comment. Had Alex really forgotten what having a one-year-old was like? And Dad hadn’t said anything about this place still partly being a building site. Not that he would have any idea what running around after a newly-walking baby was like either – Mom says he didn’t help at all when Chip and I were little, and I can believe it.

He’d seen Maddy a few times, but he was so awkward with her and the idea of him ever changing a diaper or wiping up vomit or anything was actually funny. He was still pretty distant with me, just as he had been all through my childhood – unless he was trying to control and organize my life, that was, or telling me how to improve my no good, scatty, useless self.

I don’t know why I expected a good friend of Dad’s to be any more of a decent human than he is. I should have seen this coming. I should never have let my dad get involved, even if it meant living back at Mom’s for a while. I guess we could have squeezed into Clare’s storage room, me and Mads together, although realistically that was never going to be an option. My best friend Clare is a nurse and she works a lot of night shifts – and parties hard like nurses seem to when they finally get a break. I shook the thoughts out of my head and forced myself to smile at Alex, reminding myself once again that I needed this job.

‘Kayla, get out here now or I’ll cut up the AmEx!” Alex roared, startling me.

That cut through the teenage voluntary deafness, and faster than a bullet from a gun, Kayla was standing before us.

She looked me up and down in sultry silence, from behind a side-sweep of dreadlocked hair. Everything about her screamed eco-grunge. She looked like she’d be more at home up a tree on a road protest than in the swish apartment. In fact, she looked like she’d rather be anywhere on earth than where she was. And with anyone else on earth than her father and this unwelcome stranger.

The silence stretched out between us. “Say hello to Mary-Beth,” ordered Alex eventually.

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