Perfect Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

My eyes snap to his with a warning look.

“Sorry. She’s too cute.”

“And she knows it, unfortunately. Don’t encourage her.”

Millie turns to Nick, her little eyes going wide with interest. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Nick, little lady. It’s a pleasure.” He takes her tiny hand gently and shakes it. “And you?”

“Millie!” she squeals. “Are you Nick the Prick?”

Oh, my God.

No.

All the noes ever are mine right now.

“Millie!” I hiss.

Nick glances at me, his smirk growing wider. “I suppose that would be me.”

Millie nods excitedly. “Mommy says you gonna be my uncle! Oh, and Auntie Reese eats too much ice cream worrying about you.”

Oh my God, Part Two.

“Millie, enough. We’ve got to—”

He raises an eyebrow at me and flicks his eyes back to Millie.

“Does she worry about me a lot, Millie?” he asks coolly.

Millie gives an exaggerated shrug. “Just what Mommy says. Will you be my uncle? I want Uncle Nick!”

Can I crawl under the table and die already? Can I at least take Abby’s place in the slammer?

“Millie, I need your backpack. We’re going to pack your things and go to my place, okay?” I say loudly, trying to grab her attention.

By some miracle, Brandt doesn’t prolong my torture. He finds a bag on the floor, picks it up, and stuffs the storybook inside.

“I found it. You go get her clothes. I can handle packing a few toys,” he says.

I laugh, not knowing what else to say. But I gather several outfits, socks, and pjs for Millie. Surely, that’s enough for now.

I’ll have Abby home in a couple of days. I need to get her home.

I’m so not permanent guardian material, even if I’ll die trying to be.

When I come out of the bedroom, Millie’s purple bag hangs on a chair beside the table. I stuff her clothes inside.

When I look up, Nick hands me a sleek black card.

“What’s this?”

“My personal credit card. I don’t want you worrying about surprise incidentals right now, and I know you’re too much of a Girl Scout to use the company card if it’s not a business expense. Use mine for whatever Millie needs—or for yourself.”

Holy Toledo.

If things were very, very different—if he were my boyfriend, not my boss—if he weren’t a billionaire and I wasn’t his driver—if he hadn’t taken me on one date and kissed me just to make an unhinged woman jealous...this would be a really sweet gesture.

As it stands, it’s a lot of things I can’t process.

Mostly, it’s humiliating.

I blink back tears. “Thanks, but no, thanks. I can’t take your money.”

I sniff. Hard. I still have my dignity, whatever else this night robbed away.

Then another worry knifes through me.

“Oh. Oh, crap,” I whimper.

“You said a bad word,” Millie says, giggling her little butt off.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asks.

“My job. I’m going to have to figure something out. I wonder if Mrs. Gamlin can babysit tomorrow? I’m the only driver. I can’t be out all day.”

“No Mrs. Gamwin! Tomorrow not my day. Where’s my mommy?” Millie whines, giving me a stricken look. “Why she go to work without telling me?”

“Work surprises us sometimes, Millie,” Nick says softly. “Grown-ups have it rough. No matter how big and strong you think you are, there’s always another grown-up waiting in the weeds to boss you around. She’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He looks at me and I glare at him.

For a second, she seems to buy it. Then Millie throws her hands up, imitating Abby’s mom voice. “Tell me where Mommy is!”

“Work, doll. She’ll come home a whole lot happier, I assure you,” he whispers.

Then he takes my hand and forces the sleek black card into it, closing my fingers with his.

“It’s okay, Reese. You need time to figure out your next move. You’re not alone in this. You’ve been with us an entire year. Take some paid vacation until we figure it out.”

“I’m not sure how much I have,” I say.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, holding that eerie calm in his voice that almost makes me believe it’s all that easy.

“I can’t just not show up. You have a ton to do for Brandt Dreams and Ward has the big community center pitch coming up. You can’t be down your only driver.”

“With the profits we’ve had the past few quarters? We’ll manage with a temp service.”

“Ward will fume if the company has to hire a service while I take an unplanned vacation. You know how particular he is. I’ve got to find a babysitter. And please don’t let Ward find out!” I sigh.

The thought of both Brandt boys hovering over me with worry turns me inside out.

“He’s very good at dialing up the misery, but not with this. He won’t be unreasonable, but if you’re worried, I won’t tell him. I’ll personally pay for the service. He’ll just assume you’re not coming in because I pissed you off.”