One Bossy Date: Chapter 16

“What’s up, boss?” Keenan answers on the first ring.

“There’s been an emergency. I’m escorting an employee back to Seattle in the next two hours. I don’t think everyone else will be ready and packed, so I need you to find another charter flight for them.”

“Is Piper okay?” he says flatly.

Fuck.

Am I that obvious?

I glance over at her. Tears stream down her face in harsh red lines and she’s on the floor, holding her duffel bag.

“She’ll live,” I say coldly.

“I’m serious, bossman. Is she hurt?”

I go into the other room and shut the door. “Her father had a medical event. You don’t need to know more than that,” I snap off.

“Jeez, fine! I’ll find a charter.”

“Got it.” I toss the phone on the bed and peek out the narrow slit in the door.

She’s still on the floor with her luggage, looking so lost it hammers me in the chest.

“Sunshine?” She looks up at me as I step out, her green eyes glistening. “Do you want to change clothes? That robe isn’t ideal for the trip home and the dress from last night won’t be comfortable.”

“Right, yeah…” She nods. “Oh, the dress… How do I pack it to make sure it’s safe?”

“I’ll get you the garment bag.” I try to think of how to bring her back to reality without triggering a breakdown. “What hospital is your dad in?”

“Seattle Memorial.”

My next call is to Fyodor. He misses the first call, and I have to try again.

“Boss. You’re not back early, are you?” he asks over some Russian rock music blaring in the background.

“Not yet, but I will be arriving this afternoon. I’ll need a ride to the hospital immediately—”

“Hospital? Is everything all right?”

“Miss Renee’s father is at Seattle Memorial. He had a serious fall from what I can gather. I don’t know his first name, but he has two daughters. That’s where I need you. If you don’t find anyone under ’Renee,’ then call HR and find out who her emergency contacts are. Tell them I authorized it. I need to know everything about his condition and a list of the best doctors for dealing with it.”

“Just in Seattle?”

“The best, Fyo,” I clip. “I don’t give a shit if you need to call Mayo and Johns Hopkins. Make sure they know I need them soon. Spare no expense.”

“On it. This may take time.”

“Get it done ASAP. I get the sense he’s not in the best shape, and Miss Renee will be devastated if he degrades more.”

“Yes, sir.”

I cut the call.

Then I walk to the nearest closet and find an empty garment bag. When I open the door, she’s still on the floor, but her gown is strewn over her luggage and she’s wearing a yellow sundress.

“Can you stand?” I ask, offering a hand.

She takes it and scrambles to her feet. “Maisy isn’t answering.”

“Maybe she’s busy visiting your father,” I suggest. Anything to ease her nerves. “I’ll have you home soon. Let me pack the rest of my crap and we’ll leave.”

“You’re coming?” Her eyes swell with surprise.

“I won’t have you flying home alone while you’re upset,” I growl.

“That’s a nice gesture, but… I don’t want to be a burden. And I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Good, because I’d make a shitty one.”

That gets an amused snort out of her.

Five minutes later, I’m collecting our bags and rolling them to the elevator.

“Let’s go,” I say.

She looks dazed as she gets up from the chair where she’s been sitting. “I can carry my stuff. There’s no reason for you to handle everything.”

“I’ve got it. You just worry about keeping up,” I say.

We head down the elevator and out the private entrance to the waiting limo.

The driver jumps out immediately and starts helping me load the bags before I slide into the car beside her.

“The ride to the airport isn’t long. We’ll be boarding the plane soon,” I promise.

She nods woodenly.

It’s a half-hour drive to the airport through dense Chicago traffic. We ride in silence.

The tension rolling off her makes the air so thick it’s hard to breathe.

Once we’re on the plane, I pull out my laptop and open my email as an easy distraction.

There’s plenty to do, even with a crisis hanging over my head.

Still, I don’t get much done.

Every time I glance over at Piper, she’s slouched down in the seat across from me, looking every bit like a downtrodden kitten dragged in from a storm.

Fucking miserable.

I can’t stand it.

So I walk to the back of the plane and fetch a pillow and blanket from the closet next to the flight attendant.

“Please freshen up Miss Renee’s coffee,” I tell her. I have no idea if it will help, but it’s what my grandparents always did. Grandma thought helping digestion was good for the heart.

I return with the stuff and sit down next to Piper. “Are you cold?”

She shakes her head.

“Neck pillow?” I offer, holding it up.

“I’m fine, Brock.”

My eyes sweep over her. “You don’t look fine.”

She glances away from me.

“I’ll live. This isn’t the first time he’s been through this. It’s just too soon, especially after the last time…” She trails off and shrugs. “His muscles are deteriorating. I have to believe that’s what caused the fall. But it seems like every time is worse—”

She talks like she doesn’t think he’ll be alive when she gets off the plane.

Goddamn, I hope Fyo has the best help money can buy on a plane to Seattle before we touch down.

“I wasn’t there,” she continues. “Not only was I gone, I missed seven calls from Maisy. Seven.”

The implication is clear.

Her sister is out of her element and scared shitless.

Looks like I’m a jackass after all. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard to come with after she kept hinting at family problems.

“I’m sorry, Piper,” I say numbly.

“I feel horrible.”

I shake my head. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“You told me you needed to be home. I’m the guy who insisted you get on the plane.” I pinch my jaw, adding you selfish prick in my own mind.

“Do your other employees skip business trips because they have family issues?”

I nod. “Caring for a chronically ill parent is a valid excuse.”

She shakes her head. “It’s still my fault.”

“Why?”

“Because. I didn’t tell you. I went out of my way to keep it secret.”

Before I can respond, the flight attendant comes by with a carafe. “Here’s your coffee.”

“Coffee?” Piper asks. “I didn’t order more—”

“Drink it. You’ll feel better,” I say.

She lifts her freshly refilled cup with a sideways glance.

“Have you eaten today? I had them bring a few of those head-sized cinnamon rolls aboard,” I say, still trying to play it cool.

“They’re awesome, but…too much sugar.” She sips her coffee and waves a hand. “I’m just not hungry yet. And you’re being way too sweet.”

I say nothing.

I hate that I can’t hide how much I care.

“How long has your dad been sick?” I ask, slurping my own coffee slowly.

“About ten years.”

“Since you were fourteen?”

She nods.

“Does your mother help take care of him?”

“She—umm—she isn’t around. She left after Maisy was born. She said Dad didn’t view her as anything but a nanny, and she had to find herself. So she ran off to this organic farm in California. Basically at the expense of ever giving a crap about her family again,” she says bitterly.

Damn.

Now I get it. Piper has always stepped up as a surrogate mother, all while she’s been tied down caring for her old man on top of it.

“That must have been hard,” I tell her.

“It is what it is. I’m just sorry for Maisy. I always wanted to save her from my stress. I hoped she’d have the most normal life possible, but now with Dad’s health, she’s just as stuck—and practically alone.” She sighs.

I wish I could grab the invisible weight crushing her and throw it the fuck off.

“Maisy has you,” I say firmly.

She looks at me blankly, her green eyes dark.

Fuck, I’m not good at this whole gentleman thing. Why am I trying so hard to play Dr. Phil?

“I should get back to work and stop bugging you. Try to get some sleep,” I tell her.

For a moment, she’s quiet, keeping her eyes on me.

“Brock…”

I look at her and she blushes, hiding a pixie smile. The first hint of the real Piper Renee I’ve seen today and it’s a small relief.

“I always make it out of this one way or another. But I appreciate your help. It definitely makes everything easier,” she admits.

“Good to know.”

I move back to my seat and pretend not to care.

Yet, as I’m checking my email, I keep one eye trained on the beautiful, broken creature across from me, wondering what the fuck happens next if I can’t get my inner nice guy back on his leash.

I wait in the town car while Piper walks into the hospital to see her old man.

She’ll need a ride home and she deserves some privacy.

“Boss, you should open your laptop,” Fyo says, his dark eyes looking back at me in the rearview mirror. “She’ll believe you were working when she returns.”

“What did you find out?” I ask, ignoring the suggestion.

“Not much. Harold Renee has a degenerative muscle disease related to an auto-immune condition. The name is—I can’t even pronounce it in Russian, much less English. It’s affecting his heart. I found a research nurse who’s helping locate the best doctors for this, but you must send her his files. To get his files, you need a signature—or if he’s in the hospital Miss Piper can sign. I can’t sneak through HIPAA barbed wire.”

“Understood. Thanks, Fyo,” I add.

He nods back at me in the mirror.

Almost two hours pass, and I’m growing more anxious by the minute. If no news is good news, this is fucking torture.

“Boss, if you want to go home, I’ll pick her up whenever she calls. No need for you to linger after a long flight.”

“You don’t enjoy my company?” I bite off, glaring.

It takes him a second to realize I’m joking.

Then he shakes with big, bearish laughter. “Like hell. A busy man like you doesn’t have time to kill in the back seat.”

“Regardless. I need to stay,” I say.

That surprises even me.

Why do I really need to be here?

I don’t know Harold Renee from Adam. I just shared one sheet-ripping night with his daughter, a reckless decision that’s bound to cause aftershocks.

“If this is too forward, forgive me. But you really seem to care about her.” Fyo looks back at me carefully.

I snort. “That’s too fucking forward, and it’s not like that. She’s new to the company and rather important. I want her to know she’s supported.”

Fyo chuckles with that bone-rattling laugh.

“Supported. Whatever you say, Mr. Winthrope.”

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes. “Did you ever think you’d be handing out love advice when you were sitting on a Soviet tank in Afghanistan?”

“No,” Fyo says sharply. “However, I was training a new tank driver once. I waited outside his tent while he was taking his written test. Just so he’d feel supported as good comrade.”

“Really?” I blink at him.

“No. But I thought you’d enjoy how stupid that sounds if I say I did the same thing you’re doing with her.”

My jaw clenches.

“You know I sign your checks, right?” I growl through my teeth.

“Da. Like you know you’ll never find another driver willing to break laws to dig through your woman’s father’s medical records, yes?”

“She’s not my woman,” I say with a sharpness that betrays me. “Stop calling her that. She’s just a VIP on a critical assignment, and I’m protecting her mental health.”

“Whatever helps you sleep,” he throws back. “When you’re ready to treat her like a real man, I know this new Italian place in Ballard that’s very romantic—”

I’m so done with his shit.

I punch the button to pull the privacy screen up, slumping back in my seat.

Thankfully, Piper emerges then, walking toward us with a tall, younger blond girl. The sister, I assume.

I climb out of the limo and get the door for them.

She smiles when she sees me. “You’re still here? I would have called an Uber. It’s been hours.”

“I told you I’d wait, Miss Renee, and I’m true to my word.”

“But we’re back to ‘Miss Renee?’” she whispers, leaning her lips to my ear.

I bite back a smile and shake my head.

“Thank you, though,” she says.

“Just get in.” I wave my hand in front of the open door.

“You go first, Maisy,” she says to the shy young thing behind her.

The girl looks like a gazelle as she walks past, still rangy and growing into herself, but I see the resemblance in the strawberry-blond hair and forest-green eyes.

Piper slides in behind her and I follow.

“What’s the verdict? When will your father be released?” I ask.

“Maybe as early as tomorrow. He’s banged up pretty good, but it’s manageable. They just don’t know if the fall means there’s a bigger problem. Everything depends on the next round of tests. He has to stay through tonight.” Her face is tight.

“What happened?”

“He could’ve missed a step and taken a tumble—or maybe he’s losing muscle control faster than they said. Honestly, they don’t know yet. They said the muscles in his stomach were affected from the blow too, so it’s hard for him to eat.”

Shit.

This old man has it bad.

“I’m sorry, Piper. Let me know if I can do anything.”

“We’ll be fine from here. You’ve already done so much,” she promises with a nod.

I lower the privacy screen. “Fyo, take us to Miss Renee’s place, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

The smug way his eyes flick back remind me he hasn’t forgotten our little skirmish earlier. For the sake of the girls, I’ll hold my fire.

“Wow. If Dad wasn’t sick, this would be so cool!” Maisy whispers to her sister. She inhales deeply like the leather-scented interior rivals a pie shop.

“What?” Piper asks.

“Your company ride, Pippy! Pretty badass.”

“Pippy?” I ask.

Piper’s face turns into an oversized tomato before she answers.

“When Mais here was learning how to talk, she couldn’t say my name. It came out as Pippy, and it just kind of stuck. She still calls me that sometimes, and so does Dad when he thinks I won’t slug him for it. But it’s Pippa to everyone else.”

“I’m calling you that now, Miss Pippy,” I say, my face deadpan.

“You’re not.”

The shit-eating grin I aim at her says I’ve just found a fun new way to annoy her.

Maisy giggles, pressing a hand over her mouth. “He’s cool already. I don’t know why you’re always saying your boss blows the goat.”

“I heard that,” I clip. “So she talks about me at home, huh? And I promise I’ve never blown any goats.”

“Maisy!” Piper hisses.

“Eh, she’s just afraid I’ll tell you I know how you guys met.” Maisy turns bright red like her big sister, as if she’s said too much, and puts both hands over her mouth. “Um. Never mind.”

“Your sister knows about Lanai?” I raise a brow, my eyes snapping to Piper.

“Jenn has a big mouth and no filter.” She shrugs.

“What all did you tell her?” I’ll admit I’m fucked in the head when I enjoy making her squirm this much.

“You really want to know?” she huffs. “I said you broke in planning to murder me in the middle of the night, but you were too big a hygiene freak to finish the job. So you decided to shower instead.”

“She said you were hot,” Maisy says point-blank.

I think I like this kid.

Piper’s face goes scarlet and she tries to form words, waving a hand. “He knows he’s—well, not unattractive. Not exactly breaking news to anyone with a beating pulse, Maisy.”

“I believe hot was her chosen word,” I say. “Otherwise known as handsome. Fire. A dream come true, sent down from Olympus and wrapped in a stack of honed muscle and blue eyes I borrowed from Zeus.”

“Can we change the subject, Mr. Winthrope?” she bites off. “You’re a stack of honed something, alright. I’ll agree with that.”

I scratch my cheek, hiding a smile.

Considering the circumstances, I’ll let it go this once.

When we get to her house, I lower the screen again. “Fyo, please help Miss Maisy out first.”

“Yes, sir.”

He gets out and holds the door open.

“Mad cool!” Maisy chirps again. “It’s like I’m a girl in one of your books, Pippa.”

“What books?” I ask after I step out of the car, so Piper can get out on my side.

“Oh, um…there’s this whole genre of sexy books she likes. That’s been her jam since she was ten and started reading Jane Austen. Pretty sure watching the movies on BBC got her hooked on her dumb bird stuff too,” Maisy says with a grin. “Do help Miss Emma down from the carriage,” she says in a fake English accent.

I chuckle, leaning closer to a mortified Piper. “I’m not sure why you worry so much. There’s a kid with too much time on her hands. She could already do voice acting.”

Piper shakes her head.

“Nope. That’s a kid who missed too many electives and had to find new hobbies. All because I’m not home enough.” The guilt in her voice is palpable.

Maisy races up the short flight of stairs to the porch, and Piper is about to follow, but I catch her arm.

She meets my eyes.

“You’re her sister, not her mom. You know that, right?”

“I’m the closest thing she gets.”

“You shouldn’t take on the entire burden of raising a teenage girl,” I say. This isn’t what I wanted to talk about. I swallow thickly. “On second thought, change of plans. Pack your stuff and stay with me.”

She jerks to a stop and stares at me.

“Wait. What?”

“Bring your sister, too. We can catch up on the work we should have done today. You’ll be closer to the hospital if you need to get to your dad quickly. You’ll also have Fyo at your service around the clock. He lives in my guesthouse with his wife, so he’s always there.”

Is she hyperventilating?

Her chest rises in shallow waves. I barely resist the urge to reach out and steady her, but I know she won’t want to hand her little sister more ammo to torment her.

“Brock, I… I appreciate the offer. I really do. But I don’t think it would be right.”

You know what?

Fuck optics.

I pull her tight to my chest, closing my arms around her.

If I’m being honest, it’s not all empathy. I’m letting my selfishness take control.

Work is just an excuse.

I want her with me.

I want her protected, especially when she’s hurting and vulnerable.

I want to know she’s okay at all times.

Yes, that’s fucked up.

We barely know each other outside the banter and demented monkey-sex that’s left me craving more.

Once I had her, I thought she’d be out of my system.

I was dead wrong.

She finally relaxes, laying her head on my chest and giving me a subtle squeeze back.

“Well, we were supposed to talk about countering those reviews while you go after the Finch angle. But are you sure? Like positive-positive?” she asks softly.

I stroke her hair, flashing her a look so hot my eyes burn.

“Yes.”

“And your bachelor pad has enough space for Maisy and me?”

“Absolutely. Space isn’t a concern,” I say.

She’s so innocent. If this weren’t so serious, I’d double over laughing at her question.

She glances at the porch, where Maisy has already run inside, leaving the door hanging open.

My gaze follows her eyes.

Piper looks back at me slowly. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, all the questions and fears and hopes tangled together.

I get my final answer a minute later when she leans up on her toes and gives me those lips.

It’s supposed to be sweet. Chaste. Grateful.

With her, it can never just be innocent.

I’m growling when my tongue finds hers. I kiss her tenderly, digging my teeth into her lip, and only pulling away when I sense Fyo’s wandering eyes trained on me the entire time.

What the fuck ever.

Let him gawk and throw endless shit at me later.

Before Piper, there’s no way I’d ever kiss an employee. Especially not here in the open with my right-hand man staring.

But I just did.

I inhaled her and I’m still doing it.

She places a hand on my arm, shaking as she pulls away.

“Why don’t you come in? Packing might take Maisy a while.”

I nod and start to follow her when I hear a window pull down.

“Boss?” Fyo calls from the car.

“Stay. We’ll be back in half an hour or so,” I say, hoping that’s long enough for the teenager.

I study him. He’s looking past me, watching Piper, none of the smarmy look I expected on his face.

“What?” I ask again.

“You remember that tank driver? The one I waited for?” he asks distantly.

“The one that doesn’t exist? Yeah.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this.

“Something else you should know. I also French-kissed him like our ship was sinking,” he says gruffly. “You know. Just so he’d feel supported.”

“Fyodor?”

He looks at me, biting back his laughter.

“Drive yourself straight to hell, you miserable fuck,” I snarl.

There’s that laughing fit.

Hell of a time to be everyone’s joke today.

“Boss, wait. I’ve been with you for years.” He stifles a laugh, trying so hard to keep a straight face. “Haven’t I done my time in hell?”

“Old man, you’re lucky I like you and you’re good at what you do,” I say. I also know I’ll need his skills for this showdown with Apollo Finch, even if his sense of humor resembles a flaming bag of dog crap.

“You’re lucky I drive you,” he says seriously, tapping the wheel.

I start walking toward the house and shoot a middle finger behind my back.

“Do it again and I’m telling your grandmother!” he shouts.

I turn to face him, hellfire in my eyes. “If you do, wave goodbye to your Christmas bonus.”

Fyo chuckles, undeterred.

“What? What’s so damn funny?”

“You’re thirty-one and still afraid of babushka.”

“I’m not afraid.”

He mutters something in Russian behind his laughter. “Okay, yes, and you also don’t have a girlfriend you’re moving in.”

Prick.

As I head into the small house, I just hope the entire world doesn’t start thinking the same shit.

There are still a thousand reasons why Piper Renee can’t ever be mine.

She doesn’t fit into my life, and I’m just blowing gaping holes through hers with each passing day.

I’ll help her and drag her body into sin, but I know damn well this strange, infuriating, impossible thing we’ve fallen into can’t last forever.

All good things must end.