Page 15 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

“Only the cool old ones that think Nick Jonas did a really good job in that movie.”

“I’m not sure my key demographic would respond to a Jonas-themed tour. It’s more of a rock climbing and rafting situation.”

“Then you should branch out. Have an option where the tour has Disney Channel access and a mini fridge stocked with the good stuff. Pudding cups. That edible cookie dough—they can eat it right out of the tub.”

“I take it back,” Jacob said. “Youarea rebel.”

“Well, in that case,” I said, “I guess I’ll have to break Zoe’s routine and let you take her to school tomorrow. I just hope I can face the binder again after I’ve betrayed it.”

“Just light a candle beside it and make an offering.”

I laughed, we said goodnight, but only after I hung up and went back to my case notes did I realize that I wasstillsmiling. My cheeks hurt and a bubbly feeling filled my chest. That was not good. I had been flirting with my boss, and I knew better than to do that. I had crossed a line.

I winced as embarrassment flooded over me. Maybe I was reading too much into it, I told myself. Since his trip to Singapore, Jacob Sanders had learned to trust me and was bound to be more at ease. We were joking around, that was all.

Nevertheless, the next day after I picked up Zoe from school, I left Jacob a sticky note on top of the binder that read,“Offering made to atone for disrespecting the binder: 2 turtledoves and a partridge in a pear tree.”

I smiled as I left the kitchen. But only when I was in my car and driving home did I notice that the bubbly feeling in my chest had returned.

Chapter8

8

Jacob

I barkeda surprised laugh when I found Ella’s note. It was more than just a joke, it was reassurance that she was having fun. And that was a good thing.

Nate, one of the guys that helped found my company, was still a good friend of mine. We had been working together for years and had more inside jokes than I could count. We even gave each other gag gifts for the holidays. For example, I always got Nate a case of baked beans for Christmas because during one of our camping trips he ate two cans of it for breakfast. The sheer power that emanated from his butt for the rest of the trip had become the stuff of legends.

Why should it be any different with Ella? She was just another “work friend,” after all—and there was certainly nothing inappropriate about me being friends with my employees. My sporting goods startup had been built on friendship and made us all very rich. Good relationships were crucial to success in business. No need to overthink this and get paranoid. If there was anything I had learned from being a single parent, it was that fear is everywhere. Nate and the other guys at work call me the poster boy for worrying. Don’t drive too fast and pass that car, Jacob, or you’ll crash and leave Zoe an orphan. Don’t let her swing too high, Jacob, or she’ll fly off and break her arm.

Yeah, no need to add Ella Clark to my list of worries. The sticky note had made me laugh, that’s all. So I wrote her an answer and stuck it to the binder.

“Stop sacrificing birds. Feathers clog up the robo-vacuum.”

The next day I found a bag of Skittles on top of the binder with a note from Ella that read,“Zoe & I ate the purple and yellow ones. Binder can have the rest as an offering.”I couldn’t help laughing because she’d expanded the running joke to suggest the binder could eat candy, but only the candy she and Zoe didn’t like. I scooped the stray red Skittles into the trash with a shake of my head before I wrote an answer to her.

I replied,“Binder won’t accept offerings with artificial colors, esp. red dye 40.”

A kiwi was waiting for me the following day, along with the note,“Binder is a snob.”

“Binder has STANDARDS,”I replied.“Kiwi is against the rules. See page 46.”

“P. 46 is all about Zoe’s SHOES,”Ella wrote the next day. She had alsomade a drawing of a campfire with the word“BURN”written underneath in all caps. It made me laugh. Ella had actually looked up the page in the binder just to prove me wrong.

Over the weekend, I found three more notes: one on the binder, one in the cupboard where we keep the plates, and one on my gym bag. It had become a game between us by then, hiding notes that were either up high where Zoe couldn’t reach them or in weird spots around the house. They were jokes, just a series of silly exchanges about the rules, the binder, stuff like that. It was such a small thing, but finding a note like that always gave me a surge of joy. I didn’t stop to wonder why. And if I had, I no doubt would have reassured myself it was only because Ella was funny and it was good to have friends. Superficial answers that didn’t delve into loneliness or a need for connection. No, no, no, nothing like that.

After a few weeks slipped by, I started adding sticky notes to the grocery delivery because we had used up four pads of them. I didn’t mention it. I just put them in the drawer.

“Thanks,”Ella wrote.“The binder likes purple ones.”

One day, on the way home from work, I stopped at a nearby office supply store and bought a purple pen. I left it on the binder that night with a note that said,“Thought you might like this.”It wasn’t a clever or funny note and I’d felt oddly nervous about it. I wasn’t sure why. It was just a pen, after all. Sure, clearly Ella like purple, but if she liked crackers, I’d buy her those too. Common courtesy, just being thoughtful, is all. Nothing personal.

As I expected, the next note I found was written in purple pen. I felt foolishly happy that she liked it.“Love the pen. Sorry about the glitter. Z made a fancy card for Mendocino’s birthday. Why is that a kid’s name?”

They had used the kitchen island for arts and crafts. Ella had tried to clean it up but sparkles were still stuck to everything, including the bananas.

“Not sure,”I wrote. “At least name him Redwood in honor of the forest. Or Monterey for Cali’s beautiful coastline.”

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