Perfect Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

Millie starts to sniffle.

“What’s wrong, bumblebee?” Reese picks her up and holds her close.

“I want Mommy back! You said years. That’s a really long time!”

Shit. The kid’s got ears like a fox.

“Shhh. I misspoke, love. That probably won’t happen,” Reese says in this soothing murmur.

Millie wraps her arms around Reese’s neck and lays her head down.

I step closer to them and put my hand on Reese’s arm.

“It won’t be years. If that’s the best my guy can do, I’ll fire him and find you someone better. We’ll get this all worked out in a few weeks, Reese.”

She rolls her eyes, letting out an anguished sigh.

“You’re sweet, but...you can’t know that, Nick,” she whispers, patting Millie’s back.

Wrong. I do know.

Because I’m dead serious when I promise to put every resource behind it. Whatever it takes to wipe the bone-weary expression off her face and keep Millie smiling.

“We’ll fix this. Until then, don’t apologize for being human. It’s okay to worry. It’s alright to be sad. I told you, we have your back,” I say, squeezing the back of her arm.

“Nick...I know your family went through a lot with your parents’ scandals when you were growing up, and then last year when Granny Bea handed the reins to you and Ward. But not everyone can be a Brandt. Some people aren’t that lucky. Not everyone gets a happy ending, and if we don’t admit that right now, it could be a whole lot harder later. We might have to settle for a crappier ending, and just not having the worst happen. I hope that’s what we get. Anything but the worst.”

Millie starts snoring lightly in her aunt’s arms.

Reese smiles. “Thanks for tiring her out. She fell asleep fast.”

“That was mostly Tiffany. I’ll get her stuff.” I gather up Millie’s snacks, toys, and her cup and place them in her bag. I pick up her car seat last. “Let me carry this down for you. You can’t haul the princess and her treasures.”

Her teeth flash pearly white. “Thank you, and thanks for looking after Millie, too. What happened to the nanny? I don’t want this interfering with your work.” When she laughs, there’s a nervous ring to it. “I don’t want to be a constant pest.”

I hold the door open. “You’re not. I wanted to check in on Millie—and find an excuse to step away from a pile of blueprints—so I dropped by to give Tiffany a break. Millie got interested in Grandma’s scale models, so I showed her and told a few stories.”

“God, you’re—” She pauses, her cheeks flushed, considering her words. “A really good boss. Sometimes.”

Goddamn, she’s cherry-red again. My eyes flick to her lips, remembering how sweet they tasted after one reckless dance.

I raise a brow. “You sure that’s what you wanted to say?”

“Yep.” She nods vigorously, but the hot glint in her baby-blue eyes tells a different story.

We’re at the elevator now and I stab at the button with my elbow.

In the Lincoln, I open the back door, lay Millie’s stuff on the floor, and fasten her booster seat in before I step out of the way.

“You’re good to go. Happy trails.”

She’s still staring at me, this awkward admiration in her eyes.

“I never thought I’d say this, but...you’re going to be one hell of a dad someday.” She bends down and puts Millie in her car seat.

“Never say that again,” I mutter while her back is still turned.

I know it’s meant as a compliment—except it’s not.

Coming from Ward, it’s an insane fantasy. From her, it’s like a cruel mockery of everything I can never have.

“Why?” She laughs and straightens.

I’m not smiling.

“Reese, I’m the Windy City’s favorite scandal. I’ve got a certain reputation. Nothing about my past says dad,” I tell her, keeping my voice level. “Don’t let me being nice to the kid go to your head.”

“Whatever you say, cactus boss. See you tomorrow.”

She walks around the car and gives me a flippant wave as she gets in.

Way to put the sadness back in her eyes when I tried so hard to pull it out.

“Fucking idiot,” I mutter to myself.

I watch her drive away, hating the fact that my foot-in-mouth existence can’t be as simple as the drama-free lives in Millie’s dollhouses.

11

Hidden Bruises (Reese)

The next day, I have a break between rides.

I’m crazy tempted to swing by the office and check on Millie. But if she sees me, she’ll want to come with, and I still have plenty of work left.

Instead, I pull into the parking garage and pick up on another business audiobook. The dry words wash over me, in one ear and out the other, but at least it feels normal.

Until my phone rings. I snatch it up and slide the green bar over.

“This is Reese Halle.”

“Hi, I’m Nadia, Jacob Sutton’s paralegal at Sutton and Sutton,” a cheery voice says.