Page 9 of Sexy Bad Boss

Chapter Three

MYRA

You know how they say that things will look better in the morning? That’s not true. Paynt and Chloe’s backyard looks like a bomb went off and spewed white silk all over the place. Tables and pots of flowers still litter the lawn under strings of bulbs that aren’t quite so romantic in the light of pack up day. I yawn as I trudge over the trampled grass toward the goat pen. James was supposed to be looking after Spot, but instead he’s in the hospital.

If I hadn’t tried to kiss my boss, we’d both be enjoying what little relaxation time Sundays usually afford. Well that, and I’d get a few of my chores marked off the massive to-do list I keep on my fridge. At least I have a housekeeper otherwise my entire life would be in shambles. Not just most of it.

I did send James’s new schedule and my resignation letter to his phone though, so there’s that. And the goat will be sorted in a minute. I find Spot munching on a few choice strands of grass beside her pen. She gives me that baleful look that only pets can manage and bleats softly. Does she have any idea of the trouble she caused?

“Come on,” I tell her as I head toward the house to check that she has enough water. She trots along beside me. Anyone would think she’s a dog.

“Morning, Myra. What are you doing here?” Ronnie’s standing on the deck in an oversized T-shirt that falls to about her knees, a pair of aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. She looks a fright, or like she just climbed out of bed. Possibly after a long night with that guy she disappeared with after the wedding.

“I came to let Spot out,” I call out to her. “I didn’t know if you were going to be here, or at the hospital.”

“The hospital?” She leans over the railing as I approach the house.

My stomach dips. It’s like watching the scene of a crime play out all over again with her so close to where James fell. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

“Oh.” She raises an eyebrow above the rim of her sunglasses. “About James?”

“I thought you might have gone to check on him.” I climb the steps to the deck.

“I only just woke up twenty minutes ago.” She shifts the dark lenses to her head with one hand. There’s mascara smudged around her eyes. “But Garrett says James is fine. If you count being moody about not being able to go to his precious office as fine. He’s taking James home. Says he’s concussed and has short-term memory loss.”

“Poor James.” I exhale. Tension I didn’t know I was under suddenly lifts. It might not be much of a reprieve, but I’ll take it. I eye the glass of orange juice in Ronnie’s hand.

“You want one?” She smiles, jiggling it until the ice clinks.

“Is there vodka in it?”

“No. Should there be?” She chuckles, moving to the pitcher on the table. A single glass beside it. Does she have company?

“Probably.” I put my hand to my mouth to cover a yawn. After this I should probably try to get some sleep.

Filling a glass, she passes it to me before sitting cross-legged on one of the big rattan chairs. “So what the hell happened last night?”

“I already told you in the messages I left on your voicemail. James fell over the goat.”

“No. I meant the part before the goat. The part he doesn’t remember.” She stares at me in that uncanny way she always has when she can tell I am hiding things. “You’re the only one who was there. What happened between you two?”

Growing up, I always wanted a sister. And then I met Ronnie, who is everything I suspected a sister might be. Bossy, intuitive, someone to talk to about man trouble. If the man causing me trouble isn’t her brother.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She leans forward to grab my hand. “Something definitely happened between you two. I can tell by your face. Now sit down and spill the beans.”

I flop into the chair opposite her. Is it that obvious? I neutralize my expression as I sit my glass on the table top. “Honestly, it was nothing. Just a freak accident.”

“Hmmm.” She taps a finger to the bow of her lips. “How about I guess, and you try to deny it when I get it right?”

“There really is nothing to—”

“You told James you have a big fat crush on him and that your kitty starts purring every time you’re alone with him. ”

“No. That’s not true. I’m not. I don’t have feelings… My kitty? Are you serious?”