Page 40 of Boss Me

“So, it’s not Tía’s Garden, secret spot for locals. It’s your tía’s garden.”

The grin disappeared from his face, and he was back to my jaw-clenching boss. “It is. Remind me to have a chat with Ramón later.”

“On it. Boss.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. And then at Coco. He held open the gate to let us walk through.

We didn’t need to go inside Camelia’s house. A vine-woven pergola shaded her back porch, which housed a long wooden table with mismatched chairs, each painted a different bright color. I took the purple one, and Cooper took the blue one that matched the sky and his eyes. Coco flattened himself along the lower step, one eye on Cooper and the other on his escape route.

Camelia already had fresh bread, mango slices, and a hash she called mangú set out on the table. The coffee cups were as mismatched as the chairs, and she poured coffee into a Delft cup so thin I could practically see through it. She handed it to me.

When she sat in an orange chair across from us, I lifted the cup to my lips. The robust scent curled into my nostrils. It was hot and bitter-strong with a little sweetness to it. Sipping it, my eyes widened.

“Tía Camelia makes the best coffee on the island,” Cooper said, setting his own cup back on its saucer.

“You could make it, too,” she said, passing over the breadbasket. “Alfonso down the street roasts the beans. He’ll give you as many bags as you want.”

He waved his hand. “I’ve tried. But when I make it at my house in California, it doesn’t taste the way it does here, with your flowers and the ocean breeze.”

Like he’d paid it, the breeze wafted through the garden and ruffled his sun-kissed hair. I wanted to do that, too. Run my fingers through those soft-looking waves. Rub his scalp and see if he closed his eyes, savoring the sensation the way he had his coffee.

Fuck. I stared into my cup. What was in this stuff, anyway, making me think I could casually touch Cooper, my buttoned-up boss? I took a hunk of fresh-baked bread from the basket Cooper passed me and slathered it with butter and jam. I hadn’t eaten yet, so it wasn’t the coffee, it was low blood sugar that had given me the totally unwelcome thought.

“So, Ben, are you Miguelito’s assistant, or his friend?” She raised her eyebrows, deepening the wrinkles on her forehead. Now that she’d taken off the hat, I could see her deep-brown eyes were clear and sharp.

Wow. Tía Camelia didn’t pull any punches. And why was she calling him Miguelito? Was it a nickname? “Not a friend. I like him, of course.” I set down my coffee. Too hot. Everywhere. “He’s a great boss.” I wanted to slide under the table.

Tía Camelia narrowed her eyes at me, then at Cooper. “And you like him, too.”

I sat up and watched him like he was about to spill the secrets of the universe. But he didn’t look at me. He stared at Coco on the porch step. “Ben is very likable. And the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

My chest expanded at the compliment. Then I remembered the string of truly terrible temps who’d preceded me. The best assistant he’d ever had wasn’t a high bar. And he’d called me likable. Like a concept. Not that he actually liked me. I slumped.

Tía Camelia’s eyes became slits. “Ben followed you here. He is worried about you.” Then she tilted her head at me. “And you’re still here.”

Finally, her gaze landed on Cooper’s lizard-print shirt. She clapped her hands. “I see! Tendrás la boda aquí ¿sí?”

Cooper shook his head, but his lips quirked like he was trying to keep from smiling. “Tía, you’re incorrigible.”

I wished my high-school Spanish had stuck better in my head. Maybe tía Camelia would tell me her joke in English later. What was la boda?

“Miguelito, why are you here on the island? We weren’t expecting you until July.”

I busied myself with buttering another piece of bread.

I felt Cooper’s gaze land on me before he said quietly, “I had an incident at work. I knew I needed a break.”

She nodded. “And how long is this break?”

I stilled, the piece of bread halfway to my mouth.

“As long as it takes. Maybe a long time. Maybe forever.” He mumbled the last part, but I heard it.

Tía Camelia did, too. “You can’t run from your problems. Especially if they’re inside you.” She reached across the table and grasped his hand. “But this is exactly where you need to be to figure things out. Surrounded by la familia.” She raised both arms as if she were in a group hug.

I looked around, half-expecting to see a family of Fallons gathered around us. But there were only the buzzing bees and the flowers and the salty breeze. She must’ve meant metaphorically. Unless…she included me as part of Cooper’s family? Warmth filled my belly. I did care about him. Not because he signed my paychecks. And not only because I’d been crushing on him since my first day on the job. He was a good man. He helped people at home in California through his foundation, and he helped people at his secret vacation hideaway by building schools with his fucking hands. I’d help him figure out his shit if I could.

Cooper didn’t say anything. Instead, he gazed at his hands and rubbed at the scab on his palm from when he’d broken the desk.

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