Page 14 of Office Affairs

I kicked off my heels and rubbed my sore feet, grateful I could get away with flats for dinner tonight. Dad couldn’t care less about what I wore to the dinner table, but my stepmother Bailey took issue with anything I did. I figured I might as well be comfortable while I dealt with her.

What would Chase think of all this? The question startled me upright, and I planted my shoulders against the wall to keep from toppling over. Chase would hate Bailey. I knew that instinctually, and he’d proven me right yesterday when he blew off a woman acting just like my stepmother during a business meeting. Afterward, he’d told me to blacklist her from the company’s contacts because he “didn’t deal with self-righteous gold diggers.” Warmth bloomed in my chest. They’d all been great this week. Garrett had returned after the meeting and given me the recording after checking that I was feeling better. He’d misinterpreted my unease and I never corrected him. I wasn’t going to tell him the truth about it anyway, so I was grateful he never pushed the issue.

I’d expected annoyance from Chase, but he merely went about his business with the occasional heated glance my way. Those looks went straight to my core. I still wanted him. I didn’t think I’d ever stop reminiscing about our one night together. Garrett invaded my dreams now, too. The two men woke me night after night with hot, desperate need pulsing between my thighs.

“Mom, can I use this?” Keith stumbled out of the kitchen holding one of my sheet pans for baking cookies.

“Sure. Knock yourself out. Just … not literally.”

He frowned at me briefly before spinning and darting to the back door where a broad expanse of green lawn stretched between us and the main house.

The sight of it caused my stomach to churn. I dreaded the upcoming hours trapped with Bailey.

I’d never be anything but a nuisance to her, but tonight I hoped to at least impress my father when I told him I had a job. A job that I’d gotten on my own merit, without any help from the Adams last name or money. This was mine. All mine. God, it felt good to have something completely my own. Dad and Bailey couldn’t take this away from me.

Unless they found out who I worked for.

I followed Keith into the backyard and sank into the nearest Adirondack chair. Thick cushions wrapped around me. “What do we do first?”

Keith sat back on his heels and braced his palms on his knees. The tight, pensive expression reminded me of Dad, and I moved to his side, careful to tuck my skirt around my knees as I sat.

“What is it?” I smoothed his dark hair back from his face.

A hint of a smile slipped free and he bolted to his feet. “Baking soda. We need lots of baking soda. I want it to shoot up to here.” He held out his hand by his waist. “Can we make it do that? Mr. Michaels’s bubbled and oozed. I want ours to really blow up.”

I couldn’t deny him this one thing, even if it took me researching all weekend to get the right combination of ingredients. “Heck yeah we can do that.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He flung his warm arms around my neck and squeezed. “I’m going to change for dinner.” He squeezed again, then raced into the house.

I’d gotten a lot of things wrong in my life, but Keith was not one of them. He was the one thing I’d gotten right. I wasn’t a perfect mother. Bailey made sure I knew that. But I’d raised him the best I knew how, given him the best education I could, and I kept him away from his toxic grandmother and cousins. He had a chance to turn into a decent man.

Thirty minutes later, Keith and I walked hand in hand up the seven concrete steps leading to the front door. He pressed the button for the bell and we waited.

Keith fidgeted when three minutes turned into four. Then five.

“Ring it again.” If she didn’t answer in two minutes, we were walking in. Bailey might have rules about everything, every action I took inside this house, but she was not keeping me from the one night of the month that Dad made sure to sit at the dinner table with his family.

The door opened before the second set of bells finished. Bailey stood there in a charcoal dress that ended at her knees, her hair twisted up in a bun, and a nasty scowl on what used to be a pretty face. “You’re late.”

“You didn’t answer the door.” I breezed past her, Keith close to my side. My low heels clicked in the tomb-like foyer until I crossed into the dining room where Dad sat at the head of the table. My half-siblings crowded together on one side, the four of them watching my every move. I stared them down until Keith and I were seated side by side opposite them.

Dad looked up from his phone and a light smile lifted one cheek. “Sabrina. Keith.”

It wasn’t much, but damn if I wouldn’t take the acknowledgment like it was an Olympic gold medal.

Bailey cleared her throat and slid into her seat beside Dad. “Now that we’re all here.” She looked pointedly at me. “Robert has something to say.”

Robert, the oldest of Bailey’s children, sat straighter and adjusted his tie. “I’ve started working with Dad. I’m training to join him as CEO.”

Dad made a grunting noise but didn’t dispute the claim. Robert’s announcement stole most of the wind from me. I ground my teeth as annoyance surged and heat prickled my scalp.

Bailey clapped and bounced in her chair. “Isn’t that exciting? The first son will be taking over for his father.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Dad set his phone aside and pinned Bailey with a serious look. “I agreed to let the boy work in the office, filing papers and shit. He’s not even in the upper floors yet, Bailey. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The self-righteous smirk dropped from her face and was replaced with one of saccharine falsity. “We’ll talk about that later.” She patted his arm.

I knew how that conversation would go. Dad had always deferred to Bailey when it came to the kids. He’d give in eventually, the same way he had with all her other ideas through the years. If she ever got a real say so in the company, Dad would be bankrupt in a year.

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