I Won’t Be In On Monday (The Annoying Hot Bosses Club #3)

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

J uniper

The dramatic green-and-gold floral wallpaper greets me as I open my front door, and that momentary thrill of happiness fills me as it always does when I take in my eclectic and abstract interior.

I switch on the hallway light and power on my phone as I walk into my studio apartment, but I'm surprised to see a plethora of voicemails and text messages come through. I blink as I see that they're all from Remington. “What on earth?” I mumble in surprise as I wait to hear the messages.

I press the first voicemail message, and his voice is urgent. "Hey, give me a call when you get this."

Then I listen to the second one. "Hey, Juniper, it’s your boss, Remington Parker. Please call me.”

And then the third. “Hey, Juniper, please call me as soon as you get this."

There were five more voicemails and five text messages. I look at the time. It's 1:00 o'clock in the morning. I debate whether or not I should call him, seeing as it’s so late, but before I can make the decision, my phone rings again.

I answer quickly. “Remington, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Juniper, there you are. I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I know,” I say. “I just got in. My phone was off.”

“Look, we’ve got a problem.” We’ve got a problem? Huh?

“What do you mean? What happened? Oh, no, it's not about the Poseidon case, is it? I thought that the deadline was..."

"No, no, no, no. It's not work related. It's something else."

"Okay, and what's that?"

"You may or may not have heard through the grapevine that..." He pauses. I don't say anything, and he sighs. "I have a daughter."

"I did hear that there was a possibility," I say softly, my heart beating. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks. Well, I just spoke to her mother this evening and..."

"Are you getting married?" I say, feeling shocked and maybe slightly jealous.

"No, no, no, no. Of course not. I don't even know the lady. I mean, obviously I know her. We had one passionate night together, I suppose. But no, Canyon is now..."

"Sorry, who?"

"Canyon is my daughter."

"Oh, that's a pretty name."

"I suppose it is," he says. "Well, anyway, Karen, Canyon's mom and my one-time lover, I suppose you could call her, is..." He lets out a deep strangled noise.

"Oh, my. What is going on? Is everything okay, Mr. Parker? You don't sound well."

"I think that I am about to have a panic attack because my life is crashing down around me."

"Is that why you needed me to call you back? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is not okay. Karen, my one-night stand, is bringing Canyon to the office tomorrow."

"But tomorrow's Saturday."

"I know, and I wasn't thinking. I suppose she thinks I work weekends, which I sometimes do, but I wasn't planning on working tomorrow. Anyway, she's bringing Canyon to the office tomorrow."

"Oh, well that will be nice. Like a father-daughter date?”

"Yes, but one that will last months."

"Months?" I blink in surprise. "Sorry, I don't really understand."

"Karen has some job in Southeast Asia that she really wants to take, and I guess Canyon's been wanting to get to know me, and now I've got full custody of her for the next few months, but I don't have a bed for her. My apartment is not exactly in the right condition for a child, and Karen's dropping her off at 2:00 o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and I'm beside myselfwith worry. I need your help."

Um, my help? I sit on the couch and turn on the TV. "How can I help you, Mr. Parker?"

"Well, you're a woman."

"Yes. The last time I checked I was."

"And I'm sure you have maternal instincts and you like shopping and all that good stuff."

I press my lips together. His words are quite offensive.

"Sorry. That came out wrong, didn't it? Do you like shopping?"

"I guess sometimes, but..."

"I need help, and I have no one else to ask. You are the best assistant I’ve ever had. You’re very diligent. You’ve always been there for me, and I know this is asking a lot, but could you possibly come over to my place tomorrow and help me get it in order and maybe do a little bit of shopping and..."

"What? I actually have plans and..."

"Please. I wouldn't ask you if this wasn't really important," he says, sounding strangled. "And if you and your girlfriend have plans to do something, you know, just let me know. I can pay for a nice dinner if you change the..."

"I mean, you don't know that it's not with a boyfriend," I say, feeling slightly annoyed.

"Oh, excuse me. Is it with a boyfriend? I didn't even think to ask you. Maybe you and your boyfriend have plans. I'm sure he’s not happy that I’ve been calling you so much."

"I mean, I don't actually have a boyfriend." I’m embarrassed now. Why did I even bring it up? Maybe because I wanted to hear jealousy in his voice, but he didn’t even care. He had never once noticed me as more than his mousey little assistant.

"That’s what I thought. I didn't think you had a boyfriend," he says as if his words are not burning shame into my soul. "You're always in the office working, morning, noon, and night. And I assumed that if you had a boyfriend he’d want to see you more often. I also noticed that…" He pauses, realizing he's about to cross a line, even though I’m desperately curious to know what he’s noticed. "Anyway, I'd really appreciate your help tomorrow, Juniper, and you could go to dinner with a friend anywhere you want on my credit card. No expenses spared.”

“What exactly are you asking me to do? Clean your apartment or something?”

“No, of course not. Let’s just say I would like to ensure that it’s kid friendly. So if you see anything that you think might not be appropriate for a kid, you can just remove it or ask me about it. Does that sound all right?"

"I suppose so." I lick my lips as my mind races and ponders what potential items I could possibly see. "Um, I guess you'll have to tell me your address and what time to be there."

"Juniper, you are a lifesaver. What about 8:00 a.m.? That should give us a couple of hours, and then we’ll go to the office and Karen will drop off Canyon, and then maybe you can accompany us shopping."

"What? What are you talking about?" Is he out of his mind? Does he think I’m agreeing to be his nanny or something? This is quickly spiraling out of control, and I know I’m going to need to grow a backbone.

“Well, I know Canyon is going to want a bed and other items, and I have zero experience with kids. And don’t know how she communicates."

"She speaks English, right? She grew up in the States?"

"Yes, of course."

"I know you speak English, Mr. Parker. I think you'll be able to communicate just fine," I say dryly.

"I mean, I don't know how to communicate with a little girl of seven. I've never been around a little girl of seven."

"What?” I gasp in shock. “Not even when you were seven?"

He chuckles slightly. "Well, maybe when I was seven. Who knew you had such a sense of humor, Juniper?"

"Um, my friends and family."

"You should let it out more in the office. You'll help me tomorrow?"

"I mean, I'll do what I can." I pause."I'm sure it'll be fine and you guys will get on like a house on fire and she will love you. I bet that–“

"I don't know," he says, cutting me off. "This is really going to put a kink in my love life."

"I guess that's true," I say dryly. "Do you want me to send roses to all the women on your roster, letting them know that you won’t be available for the next couple of months because you’re looking after your kid?”

“No,” he says quickly. “Not at all. I mean, we don’t want to turn anyone off, and I don't want anyone to think that…" He pauses. "Let’s just keep it between us for now."

"Okay," I say. Even though everyone at the office likely already knows. The gossip between assistants and legal secretaries was enough to launch a daytime soap. Though I wasn’t going to bring that up.

"Thanks, Juniper. You really are the best assistant ever.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Parker. I'm really glad to be appreciated. I was going to ask—" My voice is soft, and I’m not surprised when he cuts me off. I’m not really sure what I was going to say.

"I better go now." He lets out a sigh. "I think Jennifer Ortega is expecting a call from me."

"Okay." I hope he can’t hear the hurt in my voice.

"You did send her the roses, right?"

"Honestly, I can't remember the names of all the people I send roses to for you." Because there have been a lot.

"Touché. I know she wanted to go out tomorrow evening, but obviously that's not going to happen." He sounds pissed. "But it's fine."

"I’m going to go now, Mr. Parker. I don’t really care if you can see one of your many women tomorrow night or not," I say under my breath.

"What did you say? Sorry, I didn’t hear you properly, Juniper."

"It’s nothing. Have a good evening."

"You, too. See you in the morning."

“Yeah.” I hang up and just stare at the phone as I lean back on the couch. It’s brown leather and swallows me up whole as I push a throw cushion into my face and scream into it. My heart is still racing in irritation and annoyance. I know that Remington is taking advantage of me, but a secret part of me enjoys being the one that he reaches out to in his time of need. I know I’m an idiot. I need to get over my school-girl crush on my boss. It is going nowhere.

I throw the pillow off of my face and grab the remote control. I want to distract myself from my wandering thoughts. I stare at the TV screen as it flickers to life, and I quickly press the button to take me to Netflix so I can watch The Mindy Project . The sitcom always makes me feel better about myself. If Mindycan find love after all the drama of her life, then I certainly can.

My mind drifts as I lie there, trying to focus on Mindy and Danny as they argue, but I can’t stop thinking about the phone call. So the rumors are true, then. Remington Parker is a father to a seven-year-old girl. I wonder how he is going to do it. He doesn’t seem like the paternal type. Not like my dad. I have no clue how he will change his bachelor ways and accept the responsibility of a young child. A daughter. I can't imagine him as a dad, and I’m pretty sure he can’t imagine himself as a dad either, and that's why he's panicking.

I wonder what she looks like, his little girl, and I wonder if she’ll be his spitting image in female form. Then I wonder what her mom looks like. I’m sure she is gorgeous. Remington only dates gorgeous women. He doesn’t seem the sort to go for personality. Though, if I’m being honest with myself, I couldn’t name one guy who went for personality over looks.

Maybe money, but then those guys were gold diggers.

I wonder if he and the mom might give it another shot, if he would give up his playboy lifestyle to become a family man. I almost start laughing at the thought.

There isn’t a bone in Remington’s body that would make him give up his weekly dates with the most beautiful women in the city.

I think about my dad and my childhood. About my mom passing when I was young and how Dad stepped up. How I've always wished that I had a mom and a big happy family. Not that Dad hasn't done his best or that he doesn’t love me. I had my own unique, special childhood, but sometimes I wondered what it would've been like, who I would've been, what I would've been doing, where my life would be now if my mom had survived or if my dad had remarried and given me a stepmom.

I get off of the couch and walk to the bathroom and let down my long hair and stare in the mirror. I take off my thick, black glasses and study my reflection. It's blurry. I can't even really see myself. I do have contacts now, but I never wear them. Maybe I should start.

I no longer want to be the blurry woman shining back at me in the mirror. If I can’t even see myself, how can I expect anyone else to see me?

"I just want to be beautiful," I say, picking up my long hair and dropping it down.

I want my boss to call me at 1:00 in the morning because he wants me so badly he can’t sleep. Not because he wants me to be his defacto housemaid.

His call was not a compliment. In fact, it was a diss. I want him to call me endlessly because he wants me in his bed so badly that he can think of nothing else. Not because he wants me to come and take care of his apartment to get ready for his little girl.

Disappointment seeps through me. It isn't even like I want Remington Parker. Yes, I am still in major denial in my life. It helps me cope. I think the reality of my situation is that I acknowledge that he’s not the best catch in the world. Yes, he is gorgeous, and yes, he has charisma, but he’s not the sort of guy that any sane woman pictures a happily ever after with. He isn't the sort of guy that you marry and have a nuclear family and a white picket fence in Upstate New York, and in my heart of hearts that's what I want. That's what I need.

Still, it would've been nice for him to crave me in that way. It would've been nice to know that just once I was an object of desire to someone.

I splash water on my face and take a deep breath and grab my toothbrush. I am not going to feel sorry for myself. I have a great life. I have friends. I make good money. I have my own apartment, and I do like working for Remington Parker, for the most part.

I also have dreams for my life. Goals to become a published writer. My book's coming along, and if my writer's group is correct, it's not half bad. Maybe I'll even find an agent and sell a couple of copies. That would be cool. I'd love to walk into a bookstore and see my book on bookshelves or go on TikTok and see readers gushing about how much they loved my writing. That would be cool. It would validate me in a way that nothing else in my life could.

I have to focus on the right things. I have to focus on goals that could actually come true. Writing and finishing my book is a dream that could come true. Being with Remington Parker is not. I’ll help him tomorrow, and then I’ll move on with my life.