Page 24 of Indigo

“Yeah, and she’s also our new receptionist.”

His face goes from curious to pissed real fucking quick. “Come again?”

Raising my chin a little, I explain. “She’s going to be working at the garage as our new receptionist. Emailed her the contract just before. You’ve been bitching and moaning about needing one for months. So, I got us one.”

“I’ve been interviewing for weeks, looking through resumes, trying to find someone that we won’t have to train on our software. What the fuck? You seriously just gave her the job, even though the woman has probably never set foot in a garage other than the few times she’d come past here when we were kids?”

“Yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

The room goes eerily quiet for a moment before he jumps up, sending his chair flying, and rests his hands on the table, glaring at me.

He always was the dramatic one. It’s only gotten worse with age.

“You need to take a fucking breath, Jagger.” I chuckle, finding his theatrics just as amusing as I always do.

“A breath? I need to take a breath? You hired someone without even consulting me. We’ve been building this place up for years, Pax.Years. Does she even know how to answer phones? You could have at least let me interview her. Jesus. This wasmything. You couldn’t have just made a move? Told her you wanted to fuck her? Asked her out on a damn date? You had to lump us all with her so you can have easy access to her pussy?”

I can see the moment he realises he’s fucked up, ‘cos he straightens and takes a step back from the desk.

“Now, I’m going to let that last part go, ‘cos I sprung this on you at the last minute,” I say, low and controlled. “But you will not speak about her like that ever again. You will watch your mouth around her and be a good boss, because even though you know I don’t like to throw it around, I own this fucking place, and what I say goes.”

He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Am I understood?”

He looks like he’s going to agree, and then the anger returns. “Don’t turn this on me. You should have fucking spoken to me about this, Paxton. How hard would it have been to call me before offering the job to her?”

I shrug. “Now is as good a time as any. Your opinion on the matter wasn’t going to change anything.”

And that’s the damn truth. I knew he wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t care. She needs a job. I need her. It’s happening.

Jagger clenches his jaw, clearly frustrated, and then suddenly it looks as though a lightbulb goes off in his brain. Quickly, he scrambles around and pulls his phone from his pocket. Within a few seconds, he grins at the screen and then back at me.

“Alright,” he concedes. “I’ve changed my mind.”

I furrow my brows, confused by his hasty change of mood. “What?”

He turns his phone to me, a photo of Indie taking up the entire thing. She’s smiling, wearing a little white singlet, and although her hair is straight and her eyes don’t match the expression she’s trying to force, she still looks like her.

So fucking beautiful.

“Get off her social media, Jagger.”

I avert my eyes when I realise I’ve been staring for too damn long at the image.

He chuckles, locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket while shaking his head. “You wanted her to work for me? Fine. I approve. She’s all grown up and hot as hell. The customers will love her.”

He says it to get under my skin, and it works.

Walking his ass out of my office, he pauses at the door and adds, “Shit, the guys will fucking love her, too. Maybe you did make the right call,boss.”

I grab the yellow stress ball he got me last year for Christmas off my desk and throw it at the door just as it closes.

The fucking thing bounces right off and back at me, knocking the stapler clean off my desk.

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