Page 10 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

In her heart was hidden the deepest desire to love and be loved, but the wound that locked her fragile heart had not healed with time. No, time had only proven to her how right she was to hide the key that would unlock the beguiling gift she held within herself. A gift to bewitch the soul of any man. But not any man would be capable of finding the key to her heart she had buried deep within her damaged soul. He would need to be courageous if he dared to trespass the path to her very essence, obscured by time and thorns. He must be willing to pay in blood and patience. For the overgrown thorns hid not only the key to her heart, but the loveliest roses waiting to bloom under the gentle touch of the man patient enough to prune and care for the garden within her. For that man, she waited to grow with. For him she would give not only the map, but take the journey with him.

I stopped my pacing under the striped awning of the Cove Café. His words haunted me. In some ways, it reflected me. I felt damaged and ached for someone brave enough to try and push past my defenses. To give me the time to trust them even though I knew how unfair that was. But unlike Isabella Jones, I didn’t possess her bewitching powers. I couldn’t even keep the attention of my husband when I had one.

I brought my clasped hands up to my mouth and breathed in and out, trying to convince myself to walk in and face the man who was making my pulse race. Echoes of Chloe’s encouragement, begging, and her crooked little smile lent me some bravery. She’d already picked out the mobile phone she wanted.

She wasn’t the only motivator. I thought of Stephen’s gloating attitude today when he demanded I take a customer wanting to open a CD after we’d already closed the bank. Did I mention Stephen went home after he barked his last command? To add insult to injury, the customer was difficult, lecturing me for twenty minutes about the bank’s pathetic interest rates, because I had control over those. To top it off, I couldn’t open the new account because he forgot his ID. For that, I got another lecture about poor customer service.

Forget the pay raise I would receive if I took this new job, seeing the look on Stephen’s face when I gave my notice would be far more satisfying. First, though, I had to open the door and face Miles Wickham. I took one more deep breath of the crisp autumn air, smoothed out my blush cardigan, and reached for the door, reminding myself that if I could survive the mood swings of a pre-teen, I could do anything.

I let the breath out once I entered the establishment. The smell of the freshly baked breads they used for everything from bread bowls to grilled cheese sandwiches tickled my nose, flooding me with memories both good and bad. This was a favorite hangout during high school, not only for Emma, Jenna, Brad, and me, but Leland too. He would sit in the corner booth brooding while he scribbled out lyrics on napkins. I found it so mysterious and alluring. He knew it too, which was why he would only glance my way until I came to him. Never once did he come to me.

The young hostess grabbed my attention. “Would you like a table, or to sit at the counter?”

I shook thoughts of Leland out of my head, figuratively and literally. “I’m meeting someone.”

That someone stood and waved, catching my attention from, wouldn’t you know it, the corner booth. I took it as the universe’s way of warning me, until he picked up his nephew and began to walk toward me, smiling. He was coming to get me?

Little Henry lit up when he saw me and immediately began to wiggle out of his uncle’s arms. Miles let him go and watched the tot run straight to me. Before I could catch Henry in my arms, I caught a glimpse of Emma and Sawyer from the corner of my eye. I turned to find not only the aforementioned couple, but Brad and Jenna and Shelby and Ryder all there gawking at me unabashedly. I would deal with them after I scooped up the most adorable boy, dressed to charm in his shorts and tights.

If Henry were the only consideration, I would accept the job on the spot. It was as if my heart directly linked to his. He obviously felt the surreal connection too by the way he wrapped his tiny arms around my neck. But then he yelled, “Nanny,” leading me to believe his uncle had coached the tyke. Perhaps Henry didn’t feel as connected as I thought—or maybe even hoped. Either way, I didn’t know how to respond. I looked at Miles and locked eyes with him. I could tell he was trying to suppress his guilty smile, leaving no doubt he was using Henry’s adorableness to his advantage. Obviously, I was a sucker for the kid.

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