Page 110 of Savage Bosses

“Who is she?”

“The lady that was here before. She trained me for a week and left on maternity leave, I think.” She shrugged.

“Fuck!” Marjorie was forty-five and nine months pregnant. “Do you know who I am?”

“Uh, no. You’re not wearing a badge or nametag and I’m not psychic, so I don’t know who you are.”

“I don’t need to wear a fucking badge. I own the company.”

“Good for you.” She smarted.

“Yes, it’s very good for me.”

“Yes, it is.” I didn’t have any rebuttal. Her dark brown eyes were doing something to me.

“Apex Staffing told me to report here at 8AM last Monday to assist with administrative tasks,” she continued, her voice perfectly polite and professional. I grunted, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was 8:03 AM. At least she understood the value of punctuality. She was here before me, but that didn’t give her any points if I cared enough to keep score. “Last Monday I got here early and that blonde lady walked me over here and told me to sit down. And that’s what I did.”

“Okay, well.” There was something resilient about her, a quiet strength in a small body. “I’m Mr. Kyle Caldwell. I’m the CEO and I’m your boss. I’m everybody’s boss. Are you even old enough to work here? You look thirteen.”

She twisted her head to the side. “Why? Is your company out here breaking child labor laws?”

“What?”

“I’m twenty-six, Mr. Caldwell.”

She didn’t look twenty anything. “What’s your name?”

“Ae-ri-ca, Bol-den.”

“Very well, temp girl.” I said because it didn’t matter to me. “You’ll be working for me as my personal assistant for the next three months. Do not be late, do not slack off, and do not disappoint me. In order to keep this job, you do as I say at all times. You are my slave. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly, crystal clear,” she replied, and I saw a flicker of fight in her eyes. Maybe I’d found an admin who wouldn’t crack under the pressure. Maybe not. This job was demanding. “That slave part was weird though because I am Black.”

“I don’t care if you’re purple. I meant exactly what I said.”

“Yes, master.”

“You are not funny.”

“Sorry, Mr. Caldwell.” She batted her eyelashes and smirked, and I knew she didn’t mean it.

“Excellent. 8:30, enter my office.” I pointed to my glass-walled corner office. That sat only a few feet away from her desk. “And I will give you your instructions.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Caldwell. 8:30.”

I strolled away from her desk and into my office. I forgot Marjorie was pregnant. Losing my parents was taking a toll on me.

I tried to settle in, but being gone for two weeks made me feel displaced. I had the big office and my dad had the smaller office and now my brother was in our father’s office. Strange.

My brother Wesley was predictably late to our morning meeting, strolling into my office twenty minutes after we were supposed to meet. He dropped down into one of the chairs in front of my desk with a mischievous grin.

“Sorry, traffic was a nightmare,” he said. I gritted my teeth, fingers tightening around the bottle of FuSeWater in front of me.

“This better not become a habit,” I said in a low, dangerous tone. Wes’ grin faded, and he sat up straighter.

“It won’t happen again.”

That was a lie. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. As irresponsible as Wesley could be, he was my brother, and I promised my parents I would look after him. I also promised to keep him employed. Without those promises, I would’ve kicked his ass out on the street a long time ago. FuSeWater was a family business, and I vowed to keep it that way. Wes would probably have a kid before me. I was nowhere near being a father. We had to leave the company to someone in the future.

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