Page 5 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

He stared down at his sleeping nephew. “You seem to have a magic touch when it comes to wee ones.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that, but I have a daughter.”

“How old?” he asked.

“Twelve.”

His brows raised. I knew what he was thinking. You look too young to have a child that age. He was right, but I would never regret it even if it meant having the most worthless ex-husband in existence. Chloe was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

He cleared his throat. “Excellent,” he stammered as if he was unsure what to say to that. “You have plenty of experience then. Exactly what Henry and I need.”

“Listen, Miles, you don’t know me. I have a degree in business management, not child development.”

“I would do a background check on you, of course. And I need a savvy business mind.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person. Maybe I could ask around for you.” I looked down at sweet Henry and my mother’s heart wanted nothing more than to see that he had the right person to take care of him.

Miles slapped his hand on the desk. “Whatever you are making here, I’ll double it.”

My head popped up. Our eyes locked.

“What do you say now, Ms. Parker?”

Oh. Wow. I leaned back, stunned. “Can I think about it?”Chapter TwoThree sets of eyes stared at me on the bleachers, waiting for me to speak. My eyes were set on Chloe talking animatedly with her soccer team at the park after practice. They were enjoying the last warm evenings we would have as September wore on. She was at the center of the decision I had to make. My beautiful girl whose carefree spirit lighted my world and her heart of gold that reminded me I must have done something right despite all our challenges, financial and otherwise. I smiled, watching her twist her golden-brown ponytail like she always did. We shared the same hair and eye color, however her green eyes shone pure and trusting. Mine were marked with caution tape.

Emma, one of my best friends from high school and Chloe’s soccer coach, interrupted my gaze. She placed her hand on my knee. “Did you get the promotion?” she asked.

I turned my gaze from Chloe and faced the best friends a woman could ask for, Emma, Jenna, another long-time friend from high school, and Shelby, the Southern belle who had crashed our party a year ago. Funny we all thought we would hate her, but none of us could imagine our lives without the perky blonde now.

I rested my hand over Emma’s clammy one. Poor thing was dying from morning sickness. I sighed. “They gave it to Stephen.”

All their eyes widened while shaking their heads. Each disappointed for me and confused. Not only had I complained about Stephen’s incompetence for months, but they had each seen the slimy man.

“We can bury that weasel easily,” Jenna said, always willing to dispose of a body.

Shelby placed her hand across her ever-growing chest. Pregnancy had the opposite effect on her. She was even perkier, if that was possible, and her voluptuous chest was expanding, to her husband’s delight, I was sure. Those two couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I’d seen some pictures, but that was another story.

“Well, I will march down to that bank tomorrow and inform them that my husband will be taking his business accounts elsewhere.” She sounded reminiscent of Scarlett O’Hara. Losing Prescott Technologies would be a significant loss to the bank, but it wouldn’t help my cause. In fact, it might cost me my job if they found out why.

I smiled at my fearsome friends. “I appreciate your willingness to go to jail or disrupt your husband’s life on my behalf, but . . .” I bit my lip, “losing the promotion isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Each leaned back with narrowed eyes.

Emma rubbed my bare knee. “Everything okay?”

“Let’s just say I had an interesting proposition today.”

“Did Cory the teller manager ask you out again? You should totally say yes.” Jenna grinned. “I know he laughs like a hyena, but he’s hot.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Cory’s given up and moved onto nicer, greener pastures.” They all did. I made sure of it. Best to push them away before any hurt or hopes occurred on either end.

“You’re as sweet as can be,” Shelby patted me, “most of the time.” She giggled.

“I’m not sure about that.” I wanted to be nicer.

“Well, what is it?” Jenna was growing impatient.

I let out a deep breath. “I’m going to tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out on me or tell me what I should do based on who it is. And along those lines, I don’t want to hear any ‘this is fate’ crap.”

They were all thoroughly confused now and wore perplexed looks.

---