Page 34 of Taming the Boss

“He’s still your relative.”

“With Christian, it depends on the day with him if that grants you any extra leeway.”

“If you say so.”

“His little boy Jacob has a million bedtime toys. A literal million. I’ve given him like half a dozen since he was born, and he’s barely a couple months old.”

“Okay, I’ll go make the call while you get this guy ready to go?” Though his voice softened slightly on this guy, he didn’t ruffle his hair like I had, or hey, bend to give him a kiss or some other gesture of affection.

He just strode out of the room like Mr. Important and dropped the emotion part of today’s program into my lap as if it was my job.

And speaking of jobs, before I went anywhere, I needed to call Mr. Brooks and tell him my car trouble meant I wouldn’t be in for my shift. Hopefully, he could get one of the other part-timers to fill in for the evening.

“I have to call my job—my other job—and tell them I had a problem so I can’t come to work. My car had to be taken in to the shop. I’ll just be a minute,” I told Owen, pulling my phone out of my bag.

I hit the number in my contact list for Brooks’ Greenery and apologized profusely to my boss when he answered the phone. “I know this is super short notice, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll work a shift whenever you’re light on staff this week. Just say the word and I’ll figure it out regardless of what I have going on.”

As I spoke, my gaze locked on Owen’s big, solemn eyes. Who could ever say no to him?

I hoped whatever time Mr. Brooks needed me didn’t conflict with Owen’s needs. I had a feeling he wasn’t at the top of the list with anyone very often, unless it required offering money.

“Oh, Maddie, don’t you worry about us here. Your safety and your car is far more important than covering a few hours behind the register. I’ll have someone else coming in soon.”

“You’re all alone?”

“Oh, no, no. Of course not.” But he cleared his throat in a way that made me wonder. “Just get that car of yours fixed up now, okay? If you need an advance on your paycheck?—”

“No, I’m fine. I’m all set. I have savings.” God, my face was on fire. I fully intended to pay back Jude, and in any case, if I had to return his money in a hurry, my parents would cover me until I could pay them back. Things were a little tight, but I wasn’t in a rough enough situation to need to take favors from sketchy men.

Jude didn’t strike me as dangerous. My gut told me he was just an overwhelmed new father. Completely out of his element and trying to stay above water while he figured out this whole process.

That was probably why he’d originally asked me to just come home with them after sneaker shopping. Freaked out new dad reaching for a lifeline. Who could blame him?

True, he clearly had stuff I needed to hear more about in his past—like exactly how this whole custody situation with Owen’s mom was going to go—but who didn’t have some baggage?

I wasn’t going to let him slide anything by me simply because I already felt bad for his son. Owen obviously needed an advocate, but it didn’t necessarily mean it would have to be me.

Yeah, right, born softie.

“Are you sure, Maddie? It’s no trouble to float you a little.”

“I’m in good shape, Alan, but thank you.” Though Mr. Brooks had asked me to call him by his first name several times before, I was pretty sure this phone call was one of the first times I’d actually taken him up on his offer.

It was just weird calling him anything other than Mr. Brooks when his son was the Police Chief, also known as my older brother’s boss.

But I was a grown woman. If I could offer childcare, I could step up to the plate and address my employer as an adult, just as I was.

“You’re welcome. Give me a call if you need anything. An advance, a ride, whatever. You know I think of you like my own daughter.” He laughed. “Well, if my wife had given me anything but boys, that is.”

“I appreciate your understanding, Alan.” I bit my lip, staring hard at the door Jude had exited from. Was he still talking to my brother? Or had he not even reached him yet?

A couple moments later, I ended the call, only to find Owen watching me as if I was as fascinating as Bluey or whatever show kids loved most these days. “What’s so fascinating, nosy?” Deliberately, I made my tone playful so he’d know I wasn’t criticizing per se, but listening in on private conversations wasn’t the best move.

He jerked a shoulder in his most often repeated response.

“Did your dad ever explain that you shouldn’t listen in when people are on the phone?”

“No.”

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