“Well, we both know what Greg was, don’t we?”
“A self-involved douchebag whose opinions and thoughts mean nothing.”
“That’s right. Greg wanted his version of perfect Sunny. Me, I just want Sunny. All of her.” He helped her stand, placing her on the floor between his open legs, staring at her.
“Trust me?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
“Good. Tonight, I want you to spend the night at my place. Nothing is going to happen so don’t even think about trying to jump my bones,” he warned.
She rolled her eyes even though that thought may have occurred to her.
“But I want to wake up with you in the morning. I want Saturday morning cartoons and breakfast and doing your hair.”
Yeah. There, she wanted that as well.
“Of course, there’s no cartoons until your homework is done. And you might be lying on your tummy to watch cartoons rather than sitting.”
She groaned. Awesome.
He stood and hugged her tight. “You mean so much to me, Sunny. I know I’m not the best with emotions and crap, but if you’re thinking negative thoughts, if you’re worried about anything, tell me. Can’t fix what I don’t know about.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered back. He then turned her and slapped her ass. “Good. Now get back to work before your boss gets grumpy.”
“He’s always grumpy,” she said seriously. “I think he needs to get laid.”
She dived out of there as he took a threatening step towards her, giggling. She stepped into the break room to get some coffee, coming to a stop as she saw Rory there.
“There’s no creamer,” he barked.
“There should be. I restocked it a few days ago.”
“Not the kind I drink.”
Great. Awesome.
She forced herself to smile at him. “All right, I’ll get you some.” She’d pick up some of the stuff she’d messed up on the stock order and pay for it herself. That would make her feel better.
“Good. I’m tired of having to tell you all this, Sunny. I mean, I know this is all hard for you to learn so maybe you should write it down or something.”
His voice was condescending. Such a jerk. But he never did anything so bad that she felt she should say anything to Duke. Rory was a good tattoo artist, he brought in a lot of business.
Whereas she did not.
Rory walked away and she strode out to reception to check the bookings. She spent the next thirty minutes answering emails and welcoming Rory’s customer before she had a block of time where she could get away.
It would soon get dark, so she knew she better go now. She strode towards Duke’s office and knocked lightly.
“Come in,” he growled.
She put her head around the door, noticing he was on the phone. “Can I borrow your truck? I need to get some stuff for the break room.”
He frowned, but she wasn’t sure if it was at her request or from whatever someone on the call was saying. She stepped forward and snatched up his keys. He put his hand over the receiver of his phone.
“Give me ten and I’ll take you.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “I’ll be fine, Duke. Unless you don’t trust me driving your baby? I promise to bring it back scratch-free.”