Page 23 of Taming the Boss

My gut wouldn’t lead me wrong here, either. It hadn’t before.

Maybe it was just Cove magic.

Chapter 5

From the artist who went away for college after a flirtation that never went anywhere to the jerk from the pizza joint who’d cheated, my luck in love sucked.

Now I’d have to say so did my luck with employment. It had been over a week since I’d…interacted with Jude at Brooks’ Greenery and helped with Owen’s sneakers.

And nada. He hadn’t so much as sent me a form reply thanking me for my application, but he had to go in a different direction.

No response at all.

I mean, yeah, he’d asked how much for me to come home with them right then, but maybe I’d misheard him. Because that didn’t really make sense, did it? It hadn’t really seemed kosher. Especially when he’d never made any other contact.

Then there had been a mix-up with his flowers so his rush order had been delayed. If he’d paid by credit card, we would’ve refunded the fee via credit card. But he’d paid with cash, so just yesterday, we’d left a voicemail regarding the bogus exorbitant rush fee being refunded if he’d stop by the shop.

By the time I’d left work last night, he hadn’t yet returned our call.

Whatever. I wished him luck on his nanny search.

I felt bad for the cute kid, but it wasn’t as if I could do anything about any of it. I just had to hope he’d end up with a decent nanny, even if it wasn’t me.

The 4th of July was looming very soon and the flower shop had been ridiculously busy all week. Which was where I was headed yet again—after I went home to change into work-appropriate clothes—if my damn ancient Honda could handle the short trip.

I beat my fist against my burning hot steering wheel, squinting at the dashboard and the flashing tire light. Lovely. That light had just been on a couple of weeks ago, but it had gone off after Christian had checked it for me. I was pretty sure he’d added air to the tire, but if the light was already on again, that didn’t say positive things about the health of it.

Maybe my slow leak had turned into a faster one?

Ugh.

I tried to put the tire situation out of my head for a couple blocks and then I noticed the brakes weren’t handling well, so I slowed down along the curb and put on my flashers just in case. I didn’t feel comfortable driving on this tire until my brother could look at it again.

And if he didn’t think he could manage to fix it, that would mean an imminent car repair bill. Just what I did not need.

Frowning, I glanced down at my almost sheer bandeau top and too short shorts in deference to our current heat wave, wondering if it would be okay to wear these clothes to work just this once to cut down on my travel time. I’d have on my long apron, anyway, so it wasn’t as if I’d be flashing too much skin.

Why hadn’t I worn something less revealing for my errands? Heat wave or not.

With a groan, I cut my gaze to my rearview mirror and noticed a familiar dark open-air Jeep trailing after me. No way. No possible way.

Jensen? It couldn’t be.

He’d be back from college for the summer, but I hadn’t seen him or talked to him since last winter when we were both working at The Mason Jar. I’d thought maybe something was happening between us, and then he’d gone back to school for the spring semester and I hadn’t heard a word from him.

So, what the hell?

Stopping my car, I pocketed my keys in my too tight denim shorts just before I hopped out of my Honda and shielded my eyes from the bright overhead sun. “Hey, stranger. What are you doing on this side of town?”

With a grin, he waved and climbed down before flipping his ball cap around from the back to shield his own eyes. “Hey, gorgeous. I thought it was you. What’s up with your car?”

“Huh?”

“You have your hazards on,” he said patiently, tucking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, yeah. Stupid tire light keeps coming on. My brother added air, but it’s on again so I don’t know what’s up now.” I crouched near the back to take a look at the tire and then looked up as Jensen loomed over me, his gaze lasered to my chest. My bandeau top must be working to highlight my modest gifts from Mother Nature.

“I can add air,” he said softly, though his tone indicated his thoughts were squarely somewhere else.

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