Boss I Love To Hate Read online

  I sighed resolutely, trying to add some feeling into it. “You’re way too good for me, Olivia. I’m too busy, I would never pay you any attention, and I’m an asshole.”

  All of this was true, but really, she wasn’t the right girl for me. Maybe I was looking for something that didn’t exist. My parents had been married thirty-five years, and when my father had met my mother, he said he had known. It was in the way she’d made him laugh. He’d just known that she was it for him. I knew Olivia wasn’t it. And the woman before her hadn’t been it and the woman before that.

  Will I eventually find someone I want to be with? What if it isn’t in the cards for me—to have what Charles or my parents had?

  My gut clenched at the thought.

  She leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to cringe.

  “But, if you change your mind, you will call me, right?”

  “Of course.” I forced an even smoothness in my tone, knowing I wouldn’t, and I kissed her forehead one last time before standing up to leave. Relief flooded me once I was out of the hotel.

  I hopped into my Aston Martin and headed home to the suburbs. I didn’t want to sleep alone tonight, not at my condo in the city. That wasn’t where I called home anyway.

  As I drove and the city lights disappeared behind me, my shoulders slumped. I should’ve felt energized. Olivia was a freak in the bedroom, but all I felt was fatigue in my bones and an undeniable desire to knock out on my bed. All this work when dating—the wining and dining and the sex—was tiring. I didn’t mind the sex, but it seemed as though I were on the hamster wheel of dating. I’d pick a girl, repeat the cycle, and hope that it was different this time, that I’d like a girl long enough to keep her. But finding her hasn’t happened yet and round and round the cycle I went.

  I hated when my brothers were right, and they were; I was already tired of the game.

  I waved at the guard at our palatial estate to open the gates and drove up the winding road to the mansion that my parents had built and expanded over the years.

  Thinking of not having them here anymore always sent an ache to my chest, an unbearable tightness in my lungs. It was almost four years ago, and it seemed as though tragedy had hit us one after the other during that time.

  Charles’s wife, Natalie, had died when giving birth, leaving him to raise two girls by himself. And my parents asked Charles to move in so they could help with their grandchildren. Charles was an absolute wreck during that time, unable to go to work or properly care for the girls. It was one of the hardest times we’d gone through; we were all afraid he wouldn’t break out of his depression.

  And, just when life had gotten back to normal, a drunk driver had taken my parents’ lives. It had gutted us, and we’d never been the same since.

  But family was of the utmost importance, so we all tried. Mason and I had moved in to help Charles raise the kids. Though Mason and I had our places in the city, we were sleeping in our Barrington suburban house we’d grown up in because family always came first in the Brisken household.

  As I entered our house and stepped into the silence, an agonizing sadness took over me. I took the stairs two at a time and slowly opened Sarah’s door. I could see the moonlight shine a light over my niece’s small twelve-year-old frame, and I released a soft sigh, knowing she was safe.

  Next, I tiptoed into Mary’s room. The night-light on the wall illuminated her room in a faint amber glow. The princess decals on her walls smiled down on my sweet niece. I walked closer and took in her petite features, the way she hugged the elephant that I had given to her when she was three, and the way she slept with her mouth slightly ajar. Damn precious. I kissed the top of her head and brushed the back of my hand against her cheek.

  Dads weren’t supposed to play favorites, but no one ever said anything about uncles.

  * * *

  Sonia

  I lifted my head from the iPad screen, already seated in front of the BILK’s desk.

  “Did you get that?” Brad paced the length of his office, talking while I typed, the Chicago skyline his backdrop.

  Of course, I’d gotten it. I wasn’t an idiot, nor did he speak a foreign language. I typed faster than he spoke and had a typing accuracy of ninety-nine percent. I simply smiled.

  Grinding my molars, I gritted out, “No, I didn’t. If you can speak a little slower.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, looking at him as though he were an idiot, and he merely laughed.

  If he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, I had fallen off the bed and woken up under it. I had been up stalking the replacement until midnight last night, and obsessed was an understatement. Now, I was sleepy and cranky, and three cups of coffee were not helping my foul mood.

  “There is never a dull moment with you, Sonia.” He shook his head, amused. “You’re in fine form this morning.”

  Me? ME!

  I smiled often, but it wasn’t because I was happy or amused or even slightly entertained. I smiled because, in my head, I was ticking off ways I would secretly torture him if he weren’t my boss. Pull out his nose hairs with tweezers. Put itching powder in his dry cleaning. Or spit in his morning coffee, lunch, or afternoon snack. Or better yet, delete all his e-mails and pretend that it was a virus.

  And that was why I smiled. It was that or throw this damn iPad against his beautiful face.

  I bit my tongue. Don’t say a thing.

  I reminded myself again, This job is easy and they pay well and I like living on my own and not with my five siblings back at home so I can handle his rude ’tude this morning.

  “Why does it look like you have a bad case of stomach issues?” He smirked, entertained, and I so badly wanted to punch that cocky smile off his face.

  “What?” My smile faltered, and I gave him that look, the look that didn’t hide a thing, the look that I was irritated beyond the highest mountain, the tallest skyscraper. I wasn’t in the mood, so it was especially hard to fake it today. And, after seeing booby girl kissing Jeff on his Facebook feed, I didn’t have enough room in my patience jar for any more of Brad’s rudeness. “I’m fine.”

  “Did you get everything?”

  “Yes,” I snapped.

  He accepted my attitude with another smirk.

  Asshole.

  “All right then, read it back to me.”

  My hands clutched the iPad harder within my fingertips, so tightly that I could have cracked the screen. I read back his schedule for the day, down to every last detail, knowing that I had captured every word, capitalizing the beginning of every sentence and ending with the right punctuation.

  I should transcribe for a living. Given how fast I typed and my accuracy level, I’d rock at that job.

  I had written down what was necessary, about Titan Printing company—a business they were looking to acquire—but ignored his regular topics off point, like how the CEO of one of our clients was a pompous ass or how the CFO of the same company was having an affair. Worst yet, he’d had to mention his horrendous date last night, his disappointment in not liking her as much as he’d thought he did. Honestly, how does that concern me?

  Do men usually gossip this much? I hadn’t known him to talk this much to other people, or maybe he was only like this toward me.

  The phone buzzed in my side pocket, and when Brad turned toward his floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, I swiped at my screen, reading back the text: Jeff is invited to the wedding.

  It was Ava.

  What?

  An intense ringing initiated in my ears.

  I blinked, staring at the screen, reading it over and over.

  How does that make any sense?

  My face scrunched at the cell. Then, I read it four, five, six times, as though reading it multiple times would change the text. Nope. Still the same.

  There was only one wedding that she could be talking about. It was the only wedding that Ava and I were in together as readers of passages from th
e Bible and the only wedding that I had been invited to this year.

  My stomach dropped and kept on going. I gripped my center as though I would throw up my breakfast on Brad’s black marble office floor.

  I quickly typed back: What? How did you find out?

  I pushed my glasses farther up my nose and peered up at Brad, who continued to babble. For once, I was grateful he liked to hear himself talk.

  Because I couldn’t wait, I sent another text: How?

  When Ava didn’t respond, I typed another slew of question marks to fill the next line.

  Ava: Carrie told me. She’s going to tell you herself. But I wanted to tell you first so you wouldn’t be surprised.

  I shook my head and lifted a hand to the ceiling as if asking the heavens above what was happening.

  Ava was the gossip queen of the universe. This time, I was glad that the gossip queen was closer to me than she was to Carrie. Why would Carrie do that to me? She knew how brokenhearted I had been for months over our breakup.

  Ava kept typing, little dots popping on my phone, and then she stopped. I was waiting for words. Reasons as to why Carrie would betray me.

  I held my breath the whole time I was waiting, seconds ticking by. Good gosh, this woman needed to be more direct, even in her texts.

  Ava: Tim wanted to invite him. He and Jeff have become good friends.

  So? was my response.

  I lifted my head to the ceiling, feeling my face brighten with heat that rose from my cheeks to my ears to my hairline. If I were a cartoon character, smoke would be steaming from my scalp.

  What happened to girl code? Friendship? I’d known Carrie since college. Where is the loyalty in choosing to invite Jeff to the wedding instead of taking my feelings into consideration? I thought Tim was my friend, too. They needed to pick a side, and right now, they had chosen the wrong damn side.

  I gripped the phone, feeling it form an indentation within my palm. I wanted to throw it out the window—or better yet, ram it up Replacement’s hoo-ha so Jeff would find something extra special when he was up there.

  Gah!

  Ava: Don’t be mad. They’re friends, too.

  I didn’t care. They had only met Jeff through me. This was beyond messed up. Carrie “wore the pants” in that relationship. Nothing got past her. Why didn’t she tell Tim no? My stomach churned, and I blinked, staring at Ava’s last text, thinking of what I needed to do to get out of the wedding.

  The buzzing in my ears intensified. Then, the worst possible scenario filtered into my brain.

  Wait!

  Me: Does he get a plus one???

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  I bit my pinkie nail, my leg bouncing as I held my breath. The dots on my phone blinked, indicating she was typing, and then she stopped again.

  Damn it!

  Seconds ticked by.

  I glanced up, and Brad was still babbling.

  Then, one word popped on my phone that made the world around me stop dead, followed by my heart.

  Ava: Yes.

  All I could see was the one word on my screen as though it were a flashing neon light. All I could hear was the pounding in my ears, loud and deafening. All I could feel was the tightness in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  No. No. No. This is too soon. I wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing them together.

  “Sonia!”

  I dropped my phone, and it fell to the ground in a big clatter.

  “Is there something more important on your phone than your job here?”

  I heard what Brad said but not really.

  He gets a plus-one.

  He’s bringing my replacement.

  Typically, I never cried. I was built like a man. Internally and somewhat externally as well with my lanky, unshapely body. But, this time, I wanted to cry, and it would not happen in front of my boss.

  “Sonia?” He took a step toward me.

  Immediately, I stood, embarrassed that I had gotten caught on the phone and fuming beyond belief that my friends had betrayed me and, more than that, devastated at the realization that I would see Jeff and his new girlfriend—the Replacement—in almost three weeks, at one of my supposed best friend’s weddings.

  “Sorry, I need to use the ladies’ room.” I averted my eyes, taking the iPad with me. Then, I walked stiffly toward the door, not looking back.

  Chapter 2

  Brad

  Meetings went by in a flash, and I had secured two new clients to add to our portfolio. Before I knew it, I was out the door and in my Aston Martin, driving home. Win-win on my part. Like there was any doubt. I was damn good at my job.

  Being the VP of acquisition at our printing company, sales and acquisitions were my strong suit. Maybe not numbers, maybe not financials, and not even being tactful in real life, but selling a client on our product or acquiring a new company to merge with ours was where I excelled. It was where I thrived and got my natural high. I could seal the deal and sell practically anything to anybody. I could sell condoms to nuns if I wanted to. Not to be cocky, but it was true.

  I left the city skyscrapers behind me, heading home to the suburbs.

  The car phone beeped, indicating an incoming call.

  “Charles calling,” the automated woman on the receiver announced.

  “Big brother!” I smiled. “How is the honeymoon going? And, anyway, what the hell are you doing, calling me from Jamaica?” It was only day four of their almost-month-long honeymoon.

  “Hi.” Charles’s voice was rushed and nervous and nothing like my typical older brother. “I just wanted to check on the girls.”

  “I’m not home yet. Did you try the house or Annie’s or Sarah’s cell?”

  Sarah, my twelve-year-old niece, had had a cell phone at eight. It was what the cool kids did. Annie was the sitter, the hired no-help.

  Charles and Becky didn’t want to burden Mason and me, so they’d hired a sitter. The worst sitter. The sitter they’d found via an overpriced and overrated agency. Watching my nieces wasn’t a burden. They couldn’t be a burden if I wanted to do it. My nieces were my joy outside of work, my vacation in the everyday grind of things.

  The babysitter. Did I trust her? Nope. Not when the first thing she’d asked me when she came over to watch the girls was if she could have some friends over. I gave her a look. A look that shut her down fast. I ignored her. It had either been that or fire her before she even started.

  “Annie’s not picking up. None of them are. I think Sarah’s phone is dead.” Charles’s tone tightened, the wind muffling his voice through the receiver. I could picture him pacing through the sand, the clear blue waters of the ocean his backdrop.

  When they’d left, I had guaranteed them everything would be fine and stay under control. My brother deserved some time off, and for fuck’s sake, he was a newlywed.

  “I’m pulling through the gates right now. Calm down,” I told him. “I’ll call you when I’m home.”

  He would have fun on his damn honeymoon if I could help it. Mason and I’d made a pact to not bother Charles for a single thing regarding the girls, and we’d made Charles promise he would call only once a day if that.

  “Don’t worry; everything is fine.” Then, I hung up, waved to Jerry—our security guard—and drove through our gated community.

  The large, grassy area and manicured hedges highlighted the beauty and massiveness of our neighborhood. I drove down the long driveway, which widened into a circle that encompassed Brisken Estate.

  The first thing I noticed was that Annie the babysitter’s car wasn’t in the front. Instead of parking in the garage, I parked right by the steps of the house and hurried to unlock the door.

  “Honey, I’m home.” I punched in the code to the alarm and stepped into the foyer, my eyes flying to the chandelier above us and to the double winding staircase that led to my nieces’ rooms.

  Nothing.

  No screaming. No laughing. No music.
No TV.

  Just silence.

  Usually, my nieces were bickering or laughing or fighting. But never, ever silent. The babysitter had a schedule, and tonight the schedule meant homework and dinner.

  Tiny goose bumps prickled my neck, and unsettling nausea built in my gut.

  I plucked my phone from my back pocket, dialing Annie’s number, but the call went straight to voice mail.

  “Mary? Sarah?” I rushed to the winding staircase, searching for my little people.

  My younger brother’s car was not in the driveway. I called him, and when he picked up, I was breathless, already running upstairs to their rooms.

  “Mason?” I pushed open Sarah’s door. Nothing.

  “Yeah?”

  “You got the girls with you?”

  My mind didn’t usually go to the worst possible scenarios, but given that the babysitter that Charles and Becky had hired was absolutely inconsiderate and irresponsible, I had no choice. She didn’t exactly calm my nerves.

  “No! They’re not home? Did you try Annie? Sarah’s cell? Are they all not answering?”

  I stopped in the middle of Mary’s room and picked up her Ariel princess doll.

  “Brad! What’s going on?”

  His panicked state was not helping my mood. Shit. Wrong move. I shouldn’t have called the biggest worrier of the family. He worried about everything—what the girls ate, what they were watching on TV, if they were getting too much computer time, even what they wore. Mason was the type to put our nieces in all organic clothing as though anything else would burn their skin.

  Honestly, he was worse than their own father.

  “I’ll call the school. I’m sure everything is fine.” I tried to calm him down but knew nothing would when it came to my anxiety-ridden brother.

  “I’m coming home.”

  And, before I had a chance to tell him that there was no need, the phone went dead.

  I descended the stairs two at a time and went straight to the fridge, running my finger down the paper with all the emergency numbers and finding the school’s.

  I dialed, and it went straight to voice mail, understandable with it being after hours.