Page 14 of Stepping Up

"I don't have time for this," he snapped, his tone harsh. "If you all can’t handle the heat, stay out of the literal and metaphorical kitchen. I didn’t hire you to complain."

I felt my own temper flare at his dismissive attitude. "We're doing the best we can," I retorted, my voice rising. "But we're not robots. We're human beings, and we have limits. You’re pushing too hard, and you’re being an asshole about it to boot. We’re not going to accept it anymore. So, if you want to keep your employees, you’ll chill the hell out."

Logan's eyes flashed with anger, and for a second, I regretted ever coming in here. Would he fire me for the backtalk, especially since this wasn’t my first offense? I braced myself for his response. But to my surprise, he let out a weary sigh and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

"Fuck," he let out in a rare moment of unpolished vulgarity, his voice threatening to crack under the weight of his own expectations. "You’re right. I've been pushing too hard, and I know it. Hell, everyone knows it. You’re just the first person who’s had the balls to say something about it to my face."

Was I going insane, or was there an inkling of respect in his voice? For the second time, I got the sense that he liked being challenged, if not by me in particular, then just in general. Maybe it was the novelty of the thing. It seemed safe to say that Logan McDonald wasn’t the type to be challenged by others often, what with his whole intimidating demeanor and impressive physical size shtick.

“It’s almost impressive,” he said. He met my eyes, and there was something hot and molten bubbling up within them. “You’re tenacious, and you’re bold. I’m sure it’s part of what makes you such a good employee.”

“Thank… you?” I said, letting it come out as a question. He barked a short almost-laugh. Taking advantage of this moment of softness, I jumped back into battle for my coworkers. “Look, all of us respect you. Everyone in that kitchen and in that dining room just wants this place to thrive as badly as you clearly do. We just want to feel like we’re being respected as employees and as real people with lives and feelings, too.”

He nodded slowly, mulling this over. “That seems… doable. Even for an asshole like me.”

I blushed furiously at him repeating my own words back to me, but it felt okay to laugh when Logan cracked a smile himself. The tension finally broke. For the first time, I started to see how Logan McDonald and I could potentially work as colleagues, if not friends. Maybe Nate’s assessment of him wasn’t as far off as I wanted to believe.

“You ever had any interest in a management position?” Logan asked me out of the blue. I blinked at him.

“Me? Management?”

“Yes. You’re competent, clearly, and I could use more people on my team who are willing to stand up to me when I’m being a dictator.” He sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together across his well-muscled chest as he watched me. I could have sworn his eyes darkened, and it made me wonder what he was really thinking under this all-business guise.

I was probably just projecting, though. Every time this man looked at me, I could feel my insides melt a tiny bit against my will.

“I’m looking for someone to help me as I open my next restaurant,” Logan explained further. “Someone who can be there during the transition, have input on the decisions, and become the general manager of the location when it’s up and running. Would you be interested in it? You’d still have to apply, of course, and I can’t promise that I’ll take our recent familial connection into account when I’m selecting someone. But from what I’ve seen in your work ethic, and your willingness to work so diligently for your team… it’s the kind of thing I’ll need as I expand.”

How had my coming to his office to chew him out on behalf of the little people turned into this? I had whiplash from the speed of this shift. And despite my deep knowledge of what my real goals were, namely, turning my photography side-hustle into my full-time gig, the idea of moving up in my current job had its own appeal. I always had to think about Ella, her future, the opportunities I could give her if I had a little extra money to work with. And now that Mom was moving in with Dwight, there was the mortgage to think about, too.

But hell, did I really want to work more closely with Logan? Even if he was starting to show his humanity now that he was exhausted, now that I’d called him out, I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t become his full tyrant self again in private. I could see him easily going back to yelling, bossing me around, threatening me with punishments if I wasn’t a good girl…

Shit. I was thinking like a horned-up teenager again. At least my anatomy couldn’t betray what I was thinking—not in the way that a visible erection could, anyway. And of course, now that I’d had that thought, my eyes automatically darted lower, wishing for a second that I could see past Logan’s desk, that there would be visible tenting in his well-fitted trousers.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Logan said, sensing my indecision, at least, if not my fantasies, too. I sure hoped he couldn’t read all the lustful imaginings in my likely-flushed face, anyway. His knowing gaze seemed to burn, and Christ, to think I’d be able to handle more of that intensity while working as one of his direct report employees, much less in bed, was far-fetched. Straight-up delusional.

“It’s just something to consider, moving forward. And hey,” he started, his voice dipping low in an almost sultry tone that was hotter than it had any right to be, “if you make up your mind, you know where to find me.”

There was almost an implied wink in that. Maybe I wasn’t delusional to think he was flirting. And even with just that tiniest nudge into an unprofessional direction, my brain wanted to run wild, picture him naked, imagine his large body over top of me, his strong hands holding me down as he plunged his thickness into my heat. Oh, God. I was close to trembling now, imagining the size and shape of said thickness, feeling so certain it would be just as impressive as the rest of him.

“Thanks,” I half-gasped, struggling to catch my breath and be a normal non-horny human at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”

“Do,” he almost purred.

And I would definitely be thinking about his offer, among other things, long after I left his office with an extra sway in my hips.

8

NATE

Mulch crunched under Ella’s light-up sneakers as she jumped down from the jungle gym.

“And she sticks the landing!” I called out in my best announcer-voice. From where she sat on the bench across the way, watching us with loving scrutiny, I heard Carly laughing, then faking the sound of a rushing crowd with her hands cupped around her face. Ella preened under the attention. Her huge smile showed me a place where she’d lost a tooth, and her green eyes sparkled.

“Did you see that, Nate? I jumped from so high!”

“You sure did, kiddo.” I laughed, high-fiving her. My hand dwarfed hers in size, but she had me beat in enthusiasm, making my palm sting a little with the force of her five. I shook my hand out dramatically, watching her beam in satisfaction at her own strength.

I’m not sure I ever really believed I’d be hanging out with Carly and her daughter at a local park, playing Mr. Mom. It didn’t exactly fit with the image I’d had of myself before—the creative with a troubled past, the type to fuck around with hot, unburdened young women and avoid any kind of family-adjacent activities for fear of commitment or something. But as I’d gotten older, I’d made more room in my life for this kind of wholesome domesticity. Maybe having some stability with my dad and brothers was what did it.

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