Boss Unyielding: A Secret Baby Office Romance (The Boss Series Book 1), Page 2

  Farren didn’t respond right away but sat staring at her phone screen. Paul’s unusual response had made her stomach churn momentarily.

  “It looks like it. He says he needs to talk to me about something.”

  Everyone knew that ‘we need to talk’ was never about anything good, but what could he possibly be upset with her about? Sure, she hadn’t spent much time with him lately, but she had a good reason, and she thought he understood. Surely it was something innocent and nothing to get worked up over, she reasoned. He’d be there soon enough and she knew she would feel better once she saw him.

  “So who is this boss guy who didn’t hire you? Do I need to go egg his car or send him some dog pooh in a paper bag?” She asked with a straight face.

  Farren wouldn’t have put it past her friend to be crazy enough to actually do it.

  “What? No! That’s disgusting, by the way,” she laughed.

  Shea just shrugged, taking a sip of her beer. “Hey nobody messes with my Fair Child,” she said, using the nickname she had given Farren back when they were basketball teammates in seventh grade.

  Farren sighed. “I just can’t believe he didn’t even give me a chance.” She knew that life wasn’t always fair, but it still hurt, all the same.

  When she heard the door open, Farren looked up to see Paul coming in from the rain. She immediately felt a rush of excitement run through her at the sight of him, having not seen him for several days. She raised her free hand that wasn’t holding her Blue Moon to get his attention and waved him over.

  Paul approached the table with an indiscernible expression, and when he reached them, he looked at Shea, gave her a disinterested nod, and then turned his attention to Farren.

  “Can I talk to you outside?”

  Not even a hello? Farren broke eye contact with him to steal a glance out the window, seeing the rain still pounding the sidewalks outside. She looked back up at Paul who stood with this body angled toward the door as though he were in a hurry.

  “Seriously? Paul, it’s pouring out there. Why don’t you sit down with us and have a drink?” She motioned to the chair on her left that he stood next to.

  Paul didn’t move, but put a hand on Farren’s shoulder, motioning for her to get up. “Come on, Far. I really need to talk to you. The door is covered outside.”

  Farren looked over to Shea, whose forehead was crinkled and nostrils were flared, but whose lips remained uncharacteristically pressed tightly together.

  “I’ll be right back,” Farren said to Shea as she stood and followed Paul out the front door.

  THREE

  Farren and Paul stood beneath the awning of the building that covered the sidewalk. It only helped a little, since the wind blew the rain at an angle, casting a light spray against Farren’s back as she waited to hear what Paul needed to talk about.

  “What’s wrong, Paul? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine, it’s just…” He paused, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, but I think we should take a break.”

  Farren could feel her stomach turn, and she felt like a rug had been yanked out from under her.

  “A break? But… why?”

  “I just need some time to figure things out,” he answered, looking at her hairline instead of in her eyes.

  “Figure what out, Paul? I don’t get it.” She could feel the hot tears filling her eyes again, threatening to spill over at any moment.

  “Just things, okay? I just need time to think about what I want.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You’re breaking up with me?” she said, but it only came out as a whisper.

  “It’s not forever. Just for a while. You understand, right?” He unfolded his arms to place them on the sides of her shoulders, giving them a squeeze before he let them go and started inching himself away to leave.

  “So that’s just it? You’re just going to dump me and leave? No legitimate explanation or anything?” The tears began falling freely now for the second time in as many hours.

  “I’m sorry, Far. I’ve really got to go. Please don’t be upset,” he said, but it was no comfort to her. He was already walking off toward his car parked down the block in the opposite direction from hers. She wondered what he was in such a damn hurry to get to that he just left her standing out in the rain, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to know.

  She stood there outside Charlie’s for several minutes, trying to pull herself together before she went back inside to rejoin Shea. She was completely blindsided by the whirlwind breakup she had just experienced, and she needed a moment to regroup so that she wasn’t a blithering mess when Shea saw her again. She knew her best friend would never rub it in her face, but she could just imagine the cold satisfaction Shea would probably get when she found out Paul was finally out of the picture like she’d always wanted.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there when a voice calling her name caught her attention and caught her off guard.

  “Miss Fields?” A deep, masculine voice pulled her out of her trance. It was a voice she immediately recognized, because she had heard it just a couple hours earlier. She looked up in the direction it had come from, a short distance down the sidewalk.

  She looked up to see Rogan Rayner standing beneath the awning of the restaurant she had parked in front of. A beautiful, blonde woman had a delicate hand resting in the crook of his arm, and Farren noticed her icy, blue eyes seemed to jump right out at her they were so prominent in her stunning face.

  Soft waves, unaffected by the rain, cascaded around her shoulders, the highlights in stark contrast against the rich, blue dress that hung just right off of her tight curves.

  Mr. Rayner looked perfectly in place with the beautiful woman draped on his arm. Farren couldn’t help but notice the difference his surroundings made in bringing out his rugged good looks, with muscles in his chest, arms, and legs, filling out his clothes in a way that made a woman take notice.

  Even behind the black-rimmed glasses, she could feel his eyes piercing into her, and even through the pain that weighed on her chest in that moment, she couldn’t deny the effect this man seemed to have on her.

  He was seriously hot.

  “Miss Fields, is everything okay?” he said again, and this time, Farren forced herself to respond.

  “I… yes, I’m okay,” she managed, though her blank expression remained on her face as her body remained unmoving.

  Mr. Rayner turned to his date, apologizing and whispering for her to meet him inside, assuring her that he would be right there. He held the restaurant door open for her and waited until she was inside before guiding the door closed once more and turning to face Farren.

  He walked over to where she stood, also seemingly unaffected by the rain that persisted as Farren stood frozen in place, frozen in time. She didn’t know what to say to him. Not now, with her heart laid bare and ravaged raw. And in no small part thanks to him, no less, even if Paul had been the one to deliver the final blow.

  Her eyes finally caught his as he moved closer, within just a few feet from where she stood beneath the awning. Her arms were now folded across her stomach, as if trying to hold herself together. She knew she was vulnerable and defeated beneath his neutral gaze.

  “Miss Fields, is there someone I can call for you?” His voice was soothing and sympathetic.

  She shook her head. “No, my friend is inside,” she choked out, and the tears spilled down her cheeks again.

  It would have been so much easier on her had he not sounded so sympathetic in a moment when all she wanted and needed was to be comforted. Where was the insensitive ass-hole she had encountered earlier?

  “Farren, not getting the job is not the end of the world. You are a bright, capable, young woman. I have no doubt you’ll find a job much more suited for you than mine.” The soothing tones of his voice continued, but his patronizing words and his egocentric assumptions sparked a flash of ange
r inside her.

  “Seriously? Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Rayner.” She spat his name out like bile on her tongue. “I’m not upset because I didn’t get your job.”

  Well, she wasn’t completely upset for that reason, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of giving him full credit for her current misery.

  Surprise flashed across his face momentarily, but he quickly composed himself.

  “I see,” he said. “Well, then, what is bothering you to the point of tears?”

  She wanted to lash out at him, tell him it was none of his business, and what did he care, anyway. She wanted to push him away from her, or slap the concerned look right off his face. But when she looked past the flecks of water that clung to the lenses of his glasses, to a scar that divided his eyebrow, her venom was replaced with an endearing curiosity.

  Her eyes moved from the scar on his brow to another, barely noticeable, just beneath his lower lip. That’s when her own sympathy got the better of her, and she could feel the anger seeping out of her like a deflating balloon.

  She hung her head and lowered her eyes to the ground. “My boyfriend. He just told me he wanted a break.”

  Even as the words left her lips, she realized how silly she must look to a mature man like Rogan Rayner. She felt about six inches small in that moment and wished she could crawl beneath a rock or just cease to exist.

  “I know, it sounds stupid,” she added.

  Rogan gave a knowing nod of his head, and the corners of his eyes crinkled in thought for a moment. “The only one who sounds stupid in this situation is the dolt who let you go. That says to me that you can do better.”

  When Farren looked back up at Mr. Rayner, she could still see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes that were now cast by his muted smile. She said nothing, but gave a nod in acknowledgement. She couldn’t help but think of the irony that Mr. Rayner was calling Paul a dolt for letting her go when he himself had done just that only hours ago.

  “I’d better get inside. Shea is probably wondering where I am, if she hasn’t drank herself into a stupor by now. And you should probably get back to your date. I’m sorry I held you up.” Farren imagined that women like the beauty inside the restaurant waiting for Mr. Rayner did not like to be kept waiting.

  At that, Rogan gave Farren a nod and headed back in the direction of the restaurant. When he got just outside the door, Farren called to him.

  “Mr. Rayner?”

  He paused and turned around to face her.

  “You’re right, by the way,” she continued. “I will find something I’m better suited for. I always land on my feet.”

  At that, she smiled, turned, and disappeared into Charlie’s.

  FOUR

  When Farren got home that evening, she tiptoed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, maneuvering her way around in the dim stove light. She planned to scour the internet for more job openings, which she knew would take hours, and she would need the boost.

  She was surprised when the light was flicked on in the kitchen, illuminating her movements, along with her mascara-streaked face.

  “Gramma, you scared me!” she exclaimed, realizing her heart was beating in her throat at ninety-miles-an-hour. She hadn’t expected her Gramma to still be awake, since it had been around eleven when she finally parted ways with Shea after hours of venting, bashing, and having an all-around bitch-session.

  “I was anxious to hear how the interview went,” Gramma said. Her voice was small, but always seemed to carry such large amounts of patience and wisdom.

  Farren took a moment to answer. She took in a deep breath that she pushed out slowly before she sat at the kitchen table next to her Gramma who was watching her expectantly.

  “I didn’t get the job, Gramma,” she said with disappointment coloring her voice.

  “No?” Gramma asked, sounding surprised and raising an eyebrow. She leaned in to rest her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, as though she knew something Farren didn’t.

  “No… I guess it wasn’t meant to be. They, I mean, he… said he was going to hire one of the other people.”

  Farren couldn’t imagine why she felt okay with this now, so soon after her botched interview, but she guessed it had everything to do with the moment she and Rayner had shared outside of Charlie’s that evening. She could almost smell the rain trickling off the awning they had stood beneath as he had given her the words she had needed to hear to bear the losses she had encountered within hours of each other that day.

  “And you’re okay with that?” Gramma probed. She was now fidgeting with a plastic tub full of pill bottles that she pulled out to divvy up into a weekly pill container.

  “Yes, I think I am,” Farren admitted, and it was true. “And I also think I’m okay with Paul breaking up with me tonight, too.”

  That one she wasn’t quite as convinced of, but as Gramma would always say, ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’

  That had Gramma pausing to eye Farren until Farren shrugged with uncertainty. She stayed quiet, watching Farren as if waiting for her to continue.

  Farren took the opportunity to turn her attention to the pot of coffee, preferring to submerge herself into her job search rather than rehash the sordid, painful details of her love life at the moment. She left her chair and moved to the counter where she pulled a large cup from an upper cabinet and poured herself a generous amount.

  “I guess I’d better get started on a new job search, Gramma. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “No, I’m fine, dear. I’ll be getting to bed myself.”

  Farren went to hug her Gramma, holding her cup out to the side being careful not to accidentally spill any of the hot liquid on them. She kissed Gramma’s cheek and turned toward the hallway to her bedroom. “Goodnight,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Goodnight. Oh, and Farren? A Rogan Rayner called while you were out. He said he’d see you on Monday at eight o’clock sharp, and not to be late.”

  FIVE

  Farren didn’t know what had changed Mr. Rayner’s mind about hiring her, but she wasn’t about to look that gift-horse in the mouth. She found herself even more nervous than she’d been for her interview when she walked in the door of Rayner Technologies that Monday morning.

  She walked in early to see an empty front desk, but a few of the other employees were already milling about in their black polos and khaki slacks. She saw Toby holding a bagel he was just taking a bite from as she approached him.

  “Hi, Toby. I was wondering if maybe you could tell me where I need to go? It’s my first day.”

  Toby froze with the bite of bagel in his mouth, and his eyes went wide like a deer in the cross-hairs of a set of high-beams. She could see his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, but even with a clear mouth no longer full of food, he was unable to speak. He apparently had a complex talking to girls. It reminded her of Raj Kuthrapalli on the Big Bang Theory sitcom, and she wondered what a beer would do for the poor guy.

  As it was, he finally managed to point in the direction she remembered Mr. Rayner’s office to be.

  “Thanks, Toby,” she said, patting him on the side of his upper arm before heading in the direction he’d indicated.

  When she got just outside the closed office door, she peered through the windows to see Mr. Rayner sitting at his desk behind the screens of his computer. It was still fairly dim in the early, fall morning, and the light from his screens cast a flattering glow across his face. He looked as though he were completely engrossed in whatever his focus was on, and the sight of him so deep in thought sent a thrill rushing through her. There was just something about a complex man that always seemed to grab her attention and beg her to be explored.

  That was one thing she wouldn’t have to miss about Paul, at least.

  She took in a deep, encouraging breath and rapped on the door. She watched as Mr. Rayner looked up and made eye contact with her through the glass. She waved to him, announcing her arr
ival, and he nodded, motioning for her to come inside.

  With a click of the door knob, she pushed it open and crept into the office.

  “Mr. Rayner?”

  “Miss Fields, come in and have a seat.” He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk, so Farren walked around them and sat.

  “I was surprised to get your message. I thought your mind was already made up. Thank you so much for this opportunity, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not hiring you for the position you were interviewing for,” he said.

  “You’re not?” she asked as a wave of panic spread through her.

  He shook his head. “I have a special job in mind for you,” he said, leaning forward with his hands steepled together in front of him.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked with no small amount of skepticism.

  “It’s a new position I’ve been thinking of creating for a while now. It will be somewhat of a personal assistant position. You would report directly to me and no one else. I’ll pay you more than what you would have made in the other position, because you’ll be working on some special projects I have in the works.”

  Farren thought for a moment. Did she want to be a personal assistant to Rogan Rayner? On one hand, the title was a little off-putting. She hadn’t busted her hump through college just to be someone’s assistant.

  “If you think you can cut it,” he added.

  On the other hand, it was Rogan Rayner. It was the company she’d dreamed of working for since high school. If she turned this down now, she may never have another chance. And she could definitely cut it, all right.

  “What do you mean by, ‘reporting directly to you and no one else’?” she asked.

  “I mean that there are other men here in management positions who may feel they are entitled to your assistance, and that will not be the case,” he answered, clipped.

  “I see.” She made a mental note and tucked that away to delve into later. “And these special projects I’ll be working on, are they technical or… secretarial?”