Page 28 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

“I was handling it.”

I scoff. “The scene I saw was nothing like being handled.”

“If you hadn’t stepped in...”

“Hard to believe. In any case, you ruined my plans at the club because I was busy helping you.”

“You snatched everything from my grip playing the hero.”

“Well,” I shake my head. “You’re welcome. Seems I won’t be getting a thank you anytime soon.”

She puts her hands on her hip and exhales deeply. “Thank you, but I don’t appreciate your condescending tone or your judgment. Respectfully, keep your opinions to yourself.”

Images of her and the man at the cafe filter into my mind. He was all shades of wrong for her. Why is she so mad that I told her so?

“Listen, I only have your best interest at heart,” I explain. “He’s the bad guy, not me. Just…don’t go attracting stalkers and murderers off dating sites.”

She scoffs. “So we’re still sharing opinions? Okay. Then I think you need to watch how you deliver your words, not be so uptight around here, and maybe consider adding color to your life. It just might change your attitude for the better.”

She didn’t just say that, did she?

A spark goes off in my brain, and my jaw drops.

Unsure of how to respond, I blurt, “I’m your boss.”

“At Andrews Enterprise, nowhere else.”

I side-eye her. “How long have you been waiting to tell me this?”

“Since you’re relentless about this date and won’t stop belittling me.”

“It’s not belittling asking that my staff be careful on blind dates. Especially during office hours…and with undeserving men.”

“It was my lunch break! And I wasn’t blind, I was catfished.”

“Potato, potahto.”

Not budging, she rolls her eyes and grunts. “You're impossible. This is exactly what I mean.”

There’s no point in offering her advice. If she doesn’t recognize it, then it’s not worth my time. Why am I putting all this energy and effort into her anyway? I shouldn’t care this much. Yet, the urge to protect her is stronger than ever.

My phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Andrews?”

“Speaking.”

“Hi, this is Ms. Rose from Spark Montessori. How are you?

“I’m good, thanks. Is everything okay?”

“It seems as though Michelle had a little accident today in art class. She spilled paint all over her clothes and has nothing to change into. Would you be able to come pick her up?”

Seriously?

“Mr. Andrews, are you there?’

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