Page 53 of Sexy Bad Boss

Chapter Fifteen

MYRA

“Okay. So how do I look?” Ronnie comes out of her bedroom in a fitted black mini-dress. A black leather jacket with square brass studs along the sleeves hangs by one hand over her shoulder, probably meant to go with the spiked motorcycle-style boots.

“Dangerous.” I try to smile as I use a wooden spoon to stir the contents of the bowl in my arm. “Spikey.”

“Total badass.” She drops her jacket over the back of a stool and checks her burgundy lipstick in the mirrored splashback behind the stove. “Best not to give these boys I date any ideas that I’m Suzie Homemaker. They get their knickers into a knot about wanting me to meet their mothers. And you know what that leads to.”

“I know your mother.”

“You do.” She laughs, turning around and grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from the bench so she can pour herself a glass. “Do you want one?”

Putting down the bowl, I shake my head. “No, thanks, I—”

“You haven’t had a drink since you got here. Scared you’ll drunk dial my brother?” She watches me while she takes a sip from her glass.

“Yes.” My breath hisses between my lips. My abstinence is not entirely because I’m scared to call James though. It’s this low-level flu that has me most concerned, because maybe that one amazing night I spent with him led to something more permanent. I’ve been feeling off for days, a factor I ignored at first. I’ve always been more on schedule than even James.

Unless you factor in the stress, and these past two weeks have been the most stressful of my life. I’m not ready to share that with Ronnie yet. And, God help me, I have no idea how I’ll tell James if my hunch is correct. Especially when I couldn’t even manage to tell him I love him. Three little words, and I couldn’t bring myself to say them.

“Maybe you should.” Ronnie sneers at her wine. “Get drunk. Call the jackass. You know I love my brother, but I’ll be the first to say his communication skills are severely lacking.”

“He’s not the only one,” I murmur. Scooping up dollops of cookie mix, I systematically fill the greased trays in front of me.

“At least you gave it a shot.” She shrugs, watching me work. “What’s on tonight’s menu?”

“Peanut butter and fudge.”

“Nice.” She steals a chunk of fudge from the bowl and pops it in her mouth before licking her fingers. “My boss wants three dozen of your choc chip for the open house they’re styling next Saturday, if you can manage.”

“Sure.” I don’t have much else to do, except take the pregnancy test I picked up from the pharmacy today. And work on my business plan.

I couldn’t bring myself to take the job at Royal Cookie Co. I packed my suitcases and sublet my apartment. I even booked my ticket.

But my life is here. It’s not in England. And I don’t want to work for someone else. Not again. Ronnie came up with the idea of using cookies in the houses she styles for sale, and from there my plans began to flow. Working at Frost Inc. taught me so much that I’m going to put into my own cookie business.

I pause with the spoon in the air, a ball of cookie dough on it. “Did I, though? Did I give it my best shot?”

“You seduced him. You slept with him. You told him how you feel.” She steals the cookie dough right off the spoon. “You did tell him you love him, right?”

“Not in as many words. I was too...”

“Chicken?” she asks.

“Wasn’t what I was going to say, but yes.” The spoon thuds against the counter as I put it down. “I had nothing left to lose but James, and I still couldn’t tell him. What the hell’s wrong with me?”

“You’re British. Everyone knows you’re uptight, emotionally repressed tea drinkers.”

“Ha. Funny, but no.” I undo my apron and pull it off before dropping it on the counter beside the cookies. “That might be my father and my brothers, but what has it accomplished? A family of people who haven’t talked to one another in twenty-odd years. That’s not going to be me. I’m going to tell your brother exactly how I feel about him.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“I need to book a flight home, Ronnie. I need to pack.”

“Let me cancel my date. I’ll drive you to the airport.” She puts down her wine and picks up her phone.