"Just checking in before I head home. Seriously, where in God's name did you find that thing?"

"A little store here in town." A tiny smile plays at her lips as she settles back into her chair, reclaiming her glass of wine. "I bought several of them."

"Jesus Christ. They really are from the 1880s."

"I heard you hired an assistant today."

"Olivia talks too much."

"She wouldn't have to talk so much if you talked more, dear. You never tell me anything."

"I tell you plenty." I just avoid any and all topics with a high probability of her interfering. She means well, but my father was the only person who could ever talk sense into her. Without him to reel her in, she's a loose cannon. She meddles and causes chaos and generally makes my life as difficult as fucking possible at the absolute worst times.

I love her beyond reason, but the woman is insane. Two years ago, she decided I needed a wife. She took out ads in the local papers. Except she made me sound like a goddamn gigolo. I got so many calls, I had to change my phone number.

Last year, she decided I needed to relax and booked an appointment for me at a "spa" that turned out to be a brothel. When I skipped it, she sent three prostitutes to my office.

We were in the middle of a stakeholder meeting.

Porter may be the worst place in the world for a sex toy company, but it may be the one place in the world where she can't cause me any number of major problems on a weekly basis.

She snorts indelicately. "I'll stop by to meet her. When does she start?"

"You don't need to do that."

"Nonsense. I want to meet her."

I know she does. But the last thing I need is my mother, Olivia, and Ava in the same room. Actually, the last thing I need is any two of them in the same room together. It's bound to be a fucking problem for me.

"Let her settle in first, will you?" I ask, trying to stall her for as long as humanly possible. "She's shy. I don't want to throw too many new faces at her all at once. I don't want to send her running for the hills."

I'm full of shit. Ava Matthews doesn't have a shy bone in her body. But if I want to win over the town, I need her on myside. And that means keeping her in the position for as long as humanly possible. I've already made up my mind that I need to see it through.

If my mother gets involved, God only knows what'll happen. I need to avoid that at all costs.

"Oh, fine," my mother says. "I suppose I can wait a few days to meet the girl."

I exhale a relieved breath. Maybe this won't be a complete shitshow, after all.

Chapter Two

Ava

It’s my third day working for Mr. Bosshole, and I’m just about ready to throw his big ole coffee cup right at his handsome head. Every day, it’s getting harder to fight the pull between us, but I keep telling myself to “keep it professional.”

“Here’s your coffee.”Jerkwad.I smile ever so sweetly at him. I’m not sure what I want to do more: kiss him or smack the arrogant smirk right off his gorgeous face.

He glances up at me with a raised eyebrow, then looks over at the navy-blue mug I’m holding out to him. “Extra strong?”

My back teeth slam together, making it hard for me to utter my response, “Yes.” My grandmother’s reminder that you catchmore flies with honey runs through my mind as I add, “Black, extra strong, with a dash of cream.” We go through the same routine every darn morning. He acts like it takes a freaking rocket scientist to remember his coffee preference, and I barely resist the urge to pour the hot liquid in his lap.

My boss may be the hottest human with XY chromosomes in town, but his biting personality ensures he doesn’t have women lining up around the block to catch the town’s most eligible bachelor.

“Thank you.” He plucks the mug from my hand and takes a huge swig of the steaming hot liquid. I mentally wince, wondering if he has any freaking skin left on the inside of his mouth as he groans, “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.”That’s it, keep the conversation professional.It’s been my motto since my first morning at Aurora. “Do you need anything else before I go through my emails?”

“I need to know why I have a two-hour block marked off my schedule at two o’clock today.”