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

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

J uniper

"I'll just get some of the strawberries, please." I nod towards the small crates on the countertop in the bodega as I reach for my credit card. The man grabs one and puts it in the plastic bag, along with the blueberries, eggs, bread, milk, bacon, and butter. "Oh, and let me grab some orange juice, as well," I say and hurry over to the fridges and grab a large container. I rush back to the front and hand it to the man.

"Is that all?" he asks in a faint accent that I don't recognize before he puts the orange juice into the plastic bag.

"I think so." I'm not really sure what seven-year-old girls like to eat now. And to be honest, I'm still not really sure how I got roped into bringing groceries for Remington and his kid. There’s a light throbbing in my head, likely from the copious amounts of alcohol I’d had the night before, and I know I'm ready for my own breakfast.

"That'll be $62.87," he says as he takes the credit card from my hand and swipes it through the machine.

"Sixty-two dollars?" I repeat, in slight shock. I hadn't even gotten many items. I felt like I was getting ripped off, but I knew these corner stores were often more expensive. I wasn't going to sweat it or argue because I knew that Remington would pay me back. He had plenty of money. Sixty bucks was most probably what he spent on a cheap lunch.

"You want to add a tip?" the man asks in an audacious tone, and it takes everything in me to keep my lips together. I shake my head, and he sighs while giving me a dirty look. I want to tell him that I feel like the tipping culture has gotten out of control. What is he expecting a tip for? His surly attitude while ringing up the groceries I had gathered from around the small, cramped store, which held a musty smell of aromatic spices that didn't quite go together?

I reach my hand out to grab the credit card back from him, but he drops it onto the counter, like I'm not worthy of him actually handing it back to me. I am not in the mood. I grab it wordlessly and then take the plastic bag he hands me. I can feel the weight of the items in the flimsy bag and sigh as my fingers grip the handle. I don't think the bag is strong enough to carry all these groceries, but I do not want to ask him for another bag, not after I denied him the tip he didn't deserve.

I head out of the bodega, grateful that I’m only two blocks away from Remington's apartment. My phone rings as I make my way to the crosswalk, and I pull it out of my handbag, expecting to see my dad's name. I'm slightly surprised to see Remy's name on the screen.

"Hello." I answer the phone breathlessly as I run across the street to the other side. "I'm nearly there, no need to panic."

"I'm not panicking," he says smugly as if he hadn't been on my phone the night before and begged me to help him out this morning. How quickly men forget! ”I was just calling to?—"

"Fuck!" I shout as I feel the bag give way and watch items fall to the ground.

"No, I wasn't calling you for that." He chortles. "I didn't know it was on the table."

"It's not," I shout in anger as a mom and son walk past, and the little boy kicks the block of butter like it's a rock. "Hey, watch it," I call out after him, but both he and his tight yoga pants-wearing momma ignore me.

"You okay, Juniper?" Remington's tone changes. "What happened?"

"The stupid cheap-ass plastic bag just broke, and all the groceries are on the ground, and I have no way to carry them, and... ugh."

"Where are you? I'll come down with some bags and help."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not. Where are you exactly? I'll bring Canyon with me, and we can help."

"Come out of your building and make a right. I'm two blocks away."

"Okay great. We'll be down in about five minutes," he says softly. "Don't despair, Juniper, Super Boss is on the way." He hangs up before I have a moment to respond to his comment. In what world would I ever call him Super Boss? I mean, maybe in one of my sexy dreams, but I have no control over them. I would never call him that in real life. I stand there on the street, staring down at my busted bag, and watch as a cluster of people walk past me, none of whom offer to help me pick anything up. Sometimes I hate living in the city. Sometimes I want to live in a small, picture-perfect small town, like the ones in Hallmark movies, and be surrounded by a group of lovely, friendly neighbors who all help each other. I wonder if the people walking past me have even noticed me standing here or if I'm as invisible to them as a streetlight post.

"Oh, boy. You have gotten yourself into a pickle." Remington's voice is full of humor as he walks over to me with two large cotton tote bags. There's a girl walking next to him, and my eyes widen as I take in her appearance. She has dark hair, big brown eyes, and a sour look on her small face. However, the sour look isn't what takes me aback. It's the fact that she looks just like her dad, but in a pretty way. Remington stops in front of me, and she stands behind him slightly.

"Hi." I smile at Remington and then look over at Canyon and hold my hand out. "Hey, you must be Canyon. I'm Juniper. I'm so glad to meet you."

She stares at my hand and frowns. "Are you my daddy's girlfriend?"

"Wait, what? No," I say quickly. Had Remington called me his girlfriend?

"Canyon, this is Juniper. She is my assistant. She's the one who helped me clear out your room," he explains and then looks back at me. "Sorry, I have no idea why she would think you're my girlfriend." He makes a face and bends down to pick up the groceries with me. The way he says it irritates me. I’m good enough to be his personal shopper, but not his girlfriend? Thanks for nothing, jackass.

"You work for my daddy." Canyon steps forward then and looks me in the eye. I see a wary look on her face as she looks at me and then back at him. I nod slowly and offer her a wide smile.

"I have to admit, I am a glutton for punishment." I grin at her. "But he pays me well, so I can't complain."

"He gave me twenty dollars.” She grins back at me then, her eyes lighting up, and I see that she's a very pretty girl. "I wanted a hundred dollars, though."

"Oh?" I ask her, wondering why she wanted so much money.

"I wanted to buy every flavor of ice cream at..." She pauses and makes a face. "Well, not every flavor. I don't like mint chocolate chip."

"You don't like mint chocolate chip?" Remington looks down at his daughter with eyes wide. "No way."

"You love that flavor?" I ask him and watch as he shakes his head.

"I hate it." He blinks as he looks at me. He looks dazed, and for maybe the first time ever, I realize that Remington is lost and out of his element. Yesterday, he said that, but I didn’t see that in his actions, but seeing him here, with his daughter, I can feel how out of his comfort zone he is. And even more than that, I can see that Canyon feels the same way. She keeps looking at him, a mix of pride, fear, anxiety, and false strength on her face. This is new territory for both of them. She’s probably experiencing a gamut of emotions she's never felt before. I try to think what it would be like to meet a parent for the first time at seven. I imagine what it would be like if I was able to meet my mom for the first time. If she hadn't died but had just gone away and then come back into my life. My heart constricts for a moment. I would give anything to have had even one day with my mom. To have been able to look in her eyes, smell her, know her, have a memory of her that was in person and not from a photograph or my dad's recollections. When I was younger I’d been able to remember her clearly. Now the memories had all but faded away. I blink away tears. Now is not the time for me to feel sorry for myself.

"So, you both hate mint chocolate chip ice cream.” I smile gratefully at Remington as he holds the tote bag full of groceries. “Seems like you really are father and daughter.”

“I never met him before," Canyon says, sliding next to me. She grabs my hand and blinks. "You're pretty."

"Aw, thank you." I beam down at her, grateful for the compliment. "And so are you."

"I've got boring brown hair. Not like Mommy. Mommy has blonde hair."

"I have brown hair, as well, and I think we're really lucky to be brunettes." I'm devastated by the fact that at seven, she’s already wishing she was blonde. “I bought you a lot of goodies this morning, Canyon, and I really hope you’re going to enjoy them,” I say, changing the subject.

"Did you get Cocoa Puffs?" she asks me excitedly. "I love Cocoa Puffs, but my mom never gets them for me.”

“Oh, no," I say, shaking my head quickly. I look over at Remington and make a face. I didn't get any cereal. "Sorry, did you tell me to get cereal? If so, I forgot.”

He gives me a bemused smile and shakes his head. "No, that's okay. I don't think I actually gave you a list of anything. I think I just asked you to pick up some stuff for me."

“That's what I thought,” I say, relief flooding through me. I look over at Canyon and offer her a small winning smile. I don’t really know how to interact with kids, but I want to ensure I don’t make her cry. “I did get eggs and some fruit. So maybe we can make eggs and soldiers.”

“Eggs and soldiers?” she repeats with a confused voice. "What's that?"

“It's something my dad used to make for me when I was about your age. Basically, it's a hard-boiled egg. Well, not exactly hard. It has a runny yolk. And then you have the bread, and you toast it and then you cut it up into thin slices like soldiers. Then you dip the soldiers into the egg and eat it. It's absolutely delicious.”

"Oh, I want eggs and soldiers. I want eggs and soldiers." She jumps up and down. "Can I have it, please”—she looks over at Remington—"Daddy?”

His eyes widen for a second like he's not used to being called that, and then he nods slowly. “I’m not exactly sure how to make it, but if Juniper doesn't mind coming with us and showing me…” I stare at him for a couple of seconds and give him a dry smile.

“I guess you would like me to become your chef as well as your assistant,” I tease him.

“If that's not asking too much.” He laughs. “I don’t think I can get Gordon Ramsay to come over this morning.”

I laugh at his comment and roll my eyes. He looks slightly taken aback, like he is regretting something. “I don't want to take advantage of you, Juniper. I don't want you to think that?—”

“It's okay," I say, cutting him off.I’m touched he realizes that he may be overstepping the boundaries of our professional relationship. "I'll come and make the eggs and soldiers so that you know how to make it for Canyon next week."

"Thank you, Juniper. You're the best assistant ever," Canyon says, and I grin.

"You hear that, Remington? I think she's saying you need to give me a raise."

"Didn't I already promise you a bonus? Doesn’t that count as a raise?” He winks, and then I laugh loudly as I pretend to throw money up into the air. He laughs, too, and I’m happy that the mood has shifted to one of happiness and joy. I’d been close to tears earlier, and I certainly didn't want to start crying in front of them.

"Come on," I say, grabbing Canyon's hand. "Let's go back to your dad's place, make breakfast, and then maybe we'll even get him to take us shopping so we can get you some stuff for your room."

Remington stares at me in surprise. "Oh, you'd come with us?”

“I mean, I am giving you my day now." I grin. "Sure, I'll help. I want to make sure that Canyon gets a princess room."I will have to speak to my dad and hope he’s not let down too much.

She squeals.

“Well, if that's what you want."

"I'd love a princess room," she says, nodding. "Or a spy room." She wrinkles her nose as she looks at her dad. "But I'm not a boy. I don't want Spider-Man or Batman or anything."

"Okay," he says, shrugging. “I was just asking if you wanted to watch the movie. And maybe get a Batmobile bed.”

She grins as she looks up at me. "He's funny."

"You know what? He is funny, but he's your dad, and he loves you."

Her eyes widen slightly. "You think so?" she says softly, and my heart breaks because maybe a part of her doubts how much her father loves her, and that is understandable. I hope she understands that he has never rejected her. He just didn’t know about her existence at all. I beam at her. "I am almost positive that he loves you more than anything in the world. Right, Remington?”

He looks at me with wide eyes and nods slowly. "Yep," he says, and that's when I realize that maybe love is a word that Remington doesn't use easily. He looks uncomfortable at the conversation. Maybe that's why he's constantly going out with different women. Maybe he's incapable of feeling love, or he’s scared of it. That’s something for me to ponder. I wonder why he would be scared, though. From all accounts, his parents are still married, and from what I can tell, based on all the phone calls, they both dote on him. But maybe I can do some prying and some research and see what I can find out. Because if Remington Parker is scared of love, I want to know why.