Page 11 of Bossy Trouble

“As if my headache couldn’t get any worse,” I said, approaching him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Lupin shot back cooly.

“Everything is my business.” I made it a point to understand the world, and Lupin was someone who made that very difficult.

“Despite what you might think, the world doesn’t owe you an explanation. Unless you own this fine establishment.”

“Ah, I see what’s happening here. This is about Sasha, right?” I narrowed my eyes at him, grinning when I saw his discomfort. “You’re stalking me again. Already forgotten what happened last time?”

Lupin’s face reddened at the memory. I’d taken Sasha home, only to find Lupin there at her front door. I knew he’d followed us around the whole day. That night, he was drunk and tried to punch me, only to end up missing and taking himself out on the wall instead. I mocked him as I cleaned him up and sent him home in a cab. And then, as a final fuck you to him, I let him know I planned on having sex with Sasha that night, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Since then, the man has been obsessed with taking me down.

I don’t have time for this.

“Well, fun as it is to catch up with you, I have more important things to take care of.”

“What are you up to?” He asked it in that irritatingly commanding voice of his as if I was simply supposed to admit to my crime just because he asked.

“A lot of things,” I quipped. “And no, for the last time, I will not go out on a date with you.”

“Don’t be crass. I know you’re up to something. You’ve approached nearly all the extremely wealthy investors in the past few weeks. They have nothing to do with your field, and you don’t have any business with them.”

“Some of us are social,” I said. “And not awkward little boys who stalk women that have no interest in them.”

“That’s more meetings than you usually have.”

“That’s how business works,” I said, but I was disconcerted that Lupin was watching me this closely. Not that he could surmise what I was doing by watching, but I knew the man wasn’t stupid. He could come pretty close if he wanted to. “You network, you make connections, and you grow. You should try that sometime because your part-time gig as a PI isn’t working out for you.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of what you want from Sasha,” he said, his tone menacing. “I swear I will.”

I couldn’t resist the challenge in his voice and smirked at his tone. “I’d like to see you try.”

5

GEORGIA

Avery was a nightmare the next morning.

She was determined not to go to kindergarten, no matter what. Of course, she didn’t come right out and say it. Instead, she dragged her feet with every task I gave her, walking at a snail’s pace and eating her cereal one piece a minute. Gracely, the new kindergarten she just started at, enacted a new late policy that said any parent who was late more than three times a month would have their child sent home for the day on the third offense. I had already exhausted my first two chances, thanks to Avery’s antics. I couldn’t afford to have her stay home today.

“Come on, Avery,” I pleaded, quickly packing up her lunch as I moved. “We gotta get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“I’m going as fast as I can, Mommy.” She pushed around one honey nut cheerio in her bowl, picked it up, and stared at it before popping it into her mouth. “I have to chew well, so I don’t get a tummyache.”

“Uh-huh, right.” Her innocent gaze wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well, then you’re going to have to finish your cereal later because we have exactly….” I glanced at the clock. 8:45 a.m. Shit. “Fifteen minutes to get you to school.” Luckily, the kindergarten was a short walk away. I dropped her ziplocked sandwich into her lunch bag and brought it around to her, removing the spoon from her hands and setting it aside. The bowl was only half empty, but I packed enough lunch to make up for it. “I’ll let Ms. Valentino know that you can have some of your lunch when you get there.”

“I think I need to use the potty, Mommy,” Avery said in a last-ditch attempt as I picked her up into my arms.

“Use the one at the school,” I told her, hustling out the door and onto the pavement.

Avery sighed dramatically, knowing she was beaten.

Luckily, we made it to the kindergarten right on time. Avery stayed silent the entire walk except when she asked me questions about why she had to go to kindergarten in the first place.

“To learn and make friends,” I said.

“Hmm,” she responded in a voice that was much too mature for her age. “Will I still have to go to kindergarten when I’m a grown-up?”

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