Once Upon A Grump, page 4
“Max,” my niece corrected. At some point, she’d put an obscene amount of bubble gum in her mouth. She strode over to Lola and reached to shake her hand, chewing obnoxiously the whole time.
Lola smiled wide and took the handshake. She winced, and I cleared my throat. “Don’t break her, Max.”
Max looked like she gave Lola’s hand one more squeeze, then stepped back and shoved her hands in the pockets of her dress.
“Hey!” Lola said, pointing. “Your dress has pockets? So does mine!” she stuck her hands in her pockets and swayed her hips like she was posing for an impromptu photo shoot.
Max turned and walked back towards me, but I thought I saw her cold features threatening to crack into a smile. “Am I done, Uncle Stones?” she asked.
“No. Sit over there.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I was worried she might throw out her back but wandered over to sprawl in a chair at the side of the room.
Lola’s gaze was shifting between me and Max. “Why is your niece a secret that needs an NDA?”
“Sit.” I pointed to the chair, and Lola moved to it, but seemed too revved up to actually sit. She just leaned on the chair back, fingers drumming.
I took my own chair on the other side of the desk, sighing as I sat. I was really getting tired of explaining all of this. “Two months ago, I unexpectedly took guardianship of my niece. It’s critical that this stays as private as possible.”
“Why?” Lola asked.
“That’s not information you need to know. All you need to know is you’re signed to secrecy. If the information is leaked and I find you responsible, you’ll face absolute financial ruin.”
“He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?” Max chimed in from the side of the room.
“Quiet,” I snapped.
“If you wanted me to keep my mouth shut, you probably shouldn’t have brought me, Stones.”
I caught Lola suppressing a smile. I glared, which helped wipe it from her face.
“I brought you because words don’t fully express what a pain in the ass you are,” I said. “If Lola is going to turn down the job, I’d rather know as soon as possible.”
“Sounds like I’m doing you a favor by being obnoxious,” Max noted.
“I don’t think you’re obnoxious,” Lola said, turning her head to give Max a genuine smile.
Max didn’t seem to have a response for that, so she just folded her arms and blew a big bubble that somehow didn’t explode on her face and in her hair.
“So…” Lola said. “You said you needed someone to tutor and look after Max. How would that work, exactly? Everybody downstairs thinks I’m your new executive assistant.”
“And they will keep thinking that.” I trailed off when she finally decided to sit, and her dress rode up to give me a glimpse of smooth thighs and the tantalizing triangle of shadow between her legs. I wondered if she kept her underwear professional, or if she was the playful type. Fuck. I needed to get it together.
“Are you okay?” Lola asked.
I waved off her question and continued as if I hadn’t just veered into sexually fantasizing about a woman I definitely wasn’t attracted to. “My staff needs to believe you’re my executive assistant. Otherwise, they’ll ask questions about what your purpose is here and why you’re frequently visiting the top floors.”
“And if I quit after a few days they’ll just think I was scared off by the big bad Mr. Stone and his ego?”
“I don’t have an ego. But yes.”
“You totally have an ego,” Max said. “A guy without an ego wouldn’t have like a zillion ties and suits in every color.” She lowered her voice to a mockingly deep tone. “Do I want dark green today, or dark dark green? Or maybe slightly less dark green?”
“Enough,” I snapped. “Miss Thorn. I need you to decide now if you’ll accept this job or not.”
“Um,” she said. “I did kind of want to know what the salary was. We never really got around to talking about that in our not-interview while you were in your PJs. I know you’re supposed to pretend the salary doesn’t matter when you interview for jobs, but I mean, we all know it matters, right?” She was talking fast and clearly nervous, but that didn’t stop her from plowing on and vomiting more words. “Like… Yeah, hi! I’m here to apply for this job because my lifelong dream has always been to organize calendars and take calls. Money? What? I didn’t even realize this job paid anything. I’m only here because it’s my passion!” She was smiling, but her smile faded and she cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s what I think some interviewers expect to hear.”
“So you’re saying you are only here for the money, Miss Thorn?” I asked.
Lola’s ears went red. I pressed down a little spike of amusement. The woman’s ears even blushed? “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Or excited. And sometimes I talk a lot when I’m scared.”
“You mean you just talk a lot?” Max asked.
Lola smiled and shrugged. “Not when I’m sleepy. Well, I do talk in my sleep sometimes.”
I let out a sigh as the last of my patience drained from me. “What salary would you deem acceptable for the position, Miss Thorn? Money is no issue.”
Her eyes went wide. “You want me to… just tell you how much money I want?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know? I used to make sixty-five thousand a year in my last job, but that–”
“Done. Sixty-five thousand per year. And for every month you last with my niece, I’ll give you a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus.”
Lola didn’t move. She looked like a robot whose machinery had suddenly lost power. Then her eyebrows raised, and she leaned forward. Apparently there were some circumstances that even rendered Lola Thorn speechless. “That’s… A lot of money.”
“Do you accept?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar. You know how it is. Make a few calls, pull a few favors–” She cut herself off with a sudden laugh as she rushed around the desk and almost knocked me from my chair with a hug. “Of course I accept. Yes!”
I awkwardly patted her back while I tried not to notice that her hair smelled like lavender and erotic dreams. I also tried to divert my attention from the warmth of her skin against mine or the gentle pressure of her breasts against my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me.
Max cleared her throat. “Might want to step back, unless you want to get him all hot and bothered. I think it has been a long time since Uncle Stones was with a woman.”
Lola jumped back suddenly, smiling while practically gasping for breath. “Sorry. I’m a little bit of a hugger. It won’t happen again. Sir.” She added that last bit after a delay. “Well, it won’t happen unless you do something really nice again. If you are nice to me, I can’t promise I won’t hug you.”
“I’ll do my best to avoid being nice,” I said flatly.
Max snorted. “That’ll be the challenge of the century for him.”
“Enough,” I snapped. I felt frustration threatening to boil over. I didn’t like the way I felt around Lola. It felt complicated. It felt fucking confusing. “Both of you go up to the penthouse and get to know each other. You’ll start tutoring Max tomorrow. I’ll go over the basics of pretending to be my executive assistant first thing in the morning with you. I want you in my office at 5:30 A.M. And if you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late.”
“So… 5:15 A.M.?” Lola asked slowly.
“5:30 A.M. But be early.”
“Right, okay. 5:15 A.M. it is.”
I let out a controlled breath. “Both of you. Out.”
Max blew another lazy bubble and pushed off the wall. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”
“Actually, he kinda did,” Lola whispered.
I just caught Max’s eye roll before they headed out of sight and toward the elevator.
Once I was alone, I sunk into my chair and frowned at nothing in particular. The only thing I hated more than making a mistake was admitting I’d made one. So after a few seconds of careful deliberation, I decided I absolutely hadn’t made a mistake by hiring Lola Thorn.
7
LOLA
Max tapped the button for the 60th floor. The doors swished closed.
“So,” I said, hoping to show her I was actually one of the cool adults. I was definitely cool. “Are you into TikTok?” That was what the kids were into, wasn’t it?
Max dragged her eyes to me like they weighed a thousand pounds, rolled her gum around in her mouth, and then looked back toward the doors with a shake of her head. “Uncle Stones isn’t around, lady. You can drop the act.”
“Act?” I asked. Lady? I had half a mind to tell her I was twenty-five, not forty. I was no lady. I was a woman at the most.
The doors slid open to reveal a ridiculously swanky living space. Expensive carpets were scattered over the huge polished square tiles. Windows lined every exterior wall, and the interior was a maze of artistic wall features, artwork, and sleek furniture. It looked like a billionaire’s wallet threw up in the place, but in a good way?
“Yeah,” Max said over her shoulder as she strode into the room. She flopped down on the couch and pulled a phone from beneath one of the cushions, fingers immediately flying into a blur. “You’re trying to act like you want to be friends. You already got the job, so drop it.”
“Why is your phone under the couch cushions? Are you supposed to have that?”
She sighed, blowing a bubble before answering. “Stones tried to take it away because I forgot to feed his stupid fish. But this is where I keep my extra.”
I decided to stash that for later. If I was going to make a good impression, I didn’t think coming in swinging the disciplinary bat was the right move.
I walked slowly inside, slightly worried I was going to break something worth more than my life and all my organs if Mr. Stone sold them on the black market. I perched carefully on the loveseat beside Max. “I do want to get along with you. Why can’t we?”
She stopped her furious thumb tapping just long enough to give me a suffering look. “You guys are all the same. That’s why. You want to keep your precious job, which means you have to pretend to like me. You’ll waste both our time trying to bond with me so I will tell Uncle Stones that you’re the best tutor ever. And then you’ll get to cash his checks. That’s all you want.”
“Actually, what I really want is to go on a cruise to the Bahamas. I know a lot of people bash on cruises or say they are like tourist traps, but mmm. Sometimes when I’m bored, I watch these YouTube videos of people on cruises. They show you the food they get at the buffet and the excursions and bits of the shows. And–”
“Wait,” Max said, cutting me off. “Your grand dream is to go on a stupid cruise? Seriously?”
My lips pulled down at the corners. “Well, you can call it stupid, but that’s my dream. It doesn’t really have to impress anybody else because it’s just for me. Everybody deserves to want something just for them. I mean, I bet even the great sarcastic Maxine has a secret dream.”
“It’s Max,” she said, shooting me a warning glare.
“Maybe you want to be on one of those reality cooking shows. Or maybe you want to go on a vacation to the Grand Canyon in an old, beat-up RV. But your RV breaks down in the middle of the desert and your only hope is the hot guy who can’t seem to find his shirt. The two of you go off looking for help alone and you have to cuddle for warmth at night. And just when you think the romance is about to blossom, his even hotter brother shows up in the middle of a dust storm and the two of them fight over you, and…” I trailed off when I saw the look she was giving me.
“That is really weirdly specific.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “Okay, maybe that was my dream when I was your age. Before I knew about the whole cruise thing.”
Max looked back to her phone with a straight face, but I didn’t fail to notice the corner of her mouth twitching into the faintest of smiles.
“So,” I said, pushing on. “What’s your dream?”
I thought she wasn’t going to answer at all, but she finally pursed her lips, still not looking up from her phone. “You’d just laugh.”
“Hell no I wouldn’t. I just told you how important it is to have your own dream. Your dream is the last thing on Earth I’d laugh at.”
She looked up, finally meeting my eyes.
Before she could speak, the elevator opened and Christian came storming in. “That’s enough,” he barked, not even breaking stride before reaching his own personal bar. He clinked a few bottles around and eventually poured himself something amber colored and drained it in a single gulp. “You may go, Miss Thorn. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. 5:30 A.M. sharp.”
I got up, wishing the grumpy bastard had waited like ten more seconds to barge in. I was making some actual progress with Max. “You told us to get to know each other and gave us what, two minutes?”
“You may leave, Miss Thorn.”
“Uh, okay,” I stammered. “Sorry, Max. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
“Great,” she said, lacing the word with enough sarcasm to kill a small animal.
I smiled anyway. “And thank you, Mr. Stones–er–Mr. Stone. I really appreciate the opportunity, and I promise I won’t let you down.”
He poured himself another glass and held my gaze. His eyes were practically smoldering. Something between the time we’d left his office and now had seriously pissed him off, but I had a feeling it would be a bad idea to pry for information.
“So…” I said. Don’t be nosy. Don’t pry. Just walk out of the room.
I made it a few steps toward the elevator before my curiosity threatened to choke me out if I didn’t at least try. I looked back toward Mr. Stone, who was pouring himself some kind of liquor. “What’s wrong? You look like you just found out your dog chewed the crotch out of your favorite underwear.”
Max and Christian turned slowly to stare at me.
Max shook her head. “Lady, you really have to stop using super personal examples like that. It tells people way more about you then you really want them to know.”
“Nothing is wrong, Miss Thorn. And I’ll kindly remind you that your job here is to tutor and look after my niece while you’re in the office. My well-being is none of your damn business. Now you may go.”
I left the room with my cheeks burning and my ego more than a little bruised. I very much liked to be upbeat, happy, and easy-going. But how the hell was I going to manage that if this was the man I had to work with? And why did he have to be so damn hot, too?
8
LOLA
I took my early release from the Stone Tower as an opportunity to go apartment hunting. Paisley, Cassie, and probably every other person in the building seemed to think I was doomed to be let go. I was choosing to believe I’d not only survive Mr. Stone’s niece; I’d make Max like me and enjoy learning. Maybe I could even manage to squeeze a smile or two out of old Stone Face while I was at it.
Termite plodded along with me while we walked ourselves all over Fairhope for most of the afternoon. There were a few available rentals, but the prices were prohibitively high. I ended up finding an apartment complex on the edge of town as the sun was preparing to set behind the mountains.
I lifted Termite and held her under my arm. “This place looks nice, doesn’t it?”
She sniffed the air a few times, then made a little grunting sound. Unimpressed.
“Well, too bad. It’s probably the only thing we can afford for now.”
I headed inside to a little office area marked “Leasing.” The building smelled vaguely of boiled cabbage and something else I couldn’t put my finger on, but I decided not to focus on that. It would be a roof over my head until I figured something else out. It didn’t need to be perfect.
The man at the leasing desk was actually chewing on a long piece of straw. I stared a few seconds, not sure if I was seeing things. He had on overalls, a checkered flannel shirt, and thick boots that looked brand new. He might’ve been in his late thirties and he had a chubby face with nearly perfect, smooth skin. It wasn’t the face of a farmer, but every other indication said this man had come straight from slinging cow patties–or whatever it was farmers did besides grow food.
“Um, hi,” I said, knocking on the open door as I stepped in with Termite. “I was hoping to find out if you had any available apartments.”
The man narrowed his eyes and pulled the straw out of his mouth, then put it back in with what looked like a practiced gesture. He leaned back, folding his hands over his belly and smirking. “You want an apartment?” he had a southern accent and squeezed about twenty syllables into the four simple words.
I bit my lip, grinning. “Yes, I would.”
He stood, hooking his thumbs in his overalls dramatically. “Welp. S’pose we should show you unit thirteen, shouldn’t we?”
“S’pose we should?” I ventured.
He spit his little piece of straw in the trash and lifted the lid on a glass jar. He pulled a pristine strand of straw from the jar and stuck it in his mouth, gave me a wink, and jerked his head for Termite and I to follow him outside.
I bulged my eyes at Termite once he was gone, trying not to laugh.
We headed up a flight of stairs, passed a few doors, and stopped outside a lime green door that was crusted with a few years’ worth of bugs at the corners.
“I didn’t get your name, by the way. I’m Lola.”
“Rusty,” he drawled.
He tried the key and had to give it a little shake, a push, and then finally a small slam of his shoulder before the door groaned open. A wave of unpleasant odor blasted into us and I couldn’t help coughing and waving at my face. “Jesus. What is that?”
“Oh that’s just Tinkerbell. Last tenant was an old lady with seven cats. All of ‘em named Tinkerbell. Strangest shit I ever seen, I’ll tell you what.”
“I see. Do you think the smell will go away eventually?”
“You’ll get used to it.”
