Revved to the Maxx (Reynold's Restorations 1) - Page 30

How the hell was this going to work?

I hung my head again in resignation. I was being a fool. It wasn’t going to work. One of us was going to break, and when we did, the entire fragile bomb we were dancing around was going to explode.

Somehow, something told me it would make the last explosion that rocked my world look like nothing.

A truck came up behind me, stopping. The passenger side window rolled down, and Mary tilted her head, studying me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I sighed. There was no point lying. She’d figure it out. “Hiding.”

“From?”

“My new assistant.”

I had sent Mary a message, telling her I had hired someone. She’d been away, so it was the first time I had seen her since she convinced me to place the ad. She had given me an earful about the contents of my ad, much the same way Red had, and was shocked anyone had replied.

“The kid just got here. More trouble than he’s worth already?” She chuckled. “Give him a chance.”

I met her gaze. “He’s not a kid, and he’s not a he.”

Her eyebrows rose. “This I gotta hear. Follow me home, Maxx.” Her tone left no room for argument.

I sighed and put the truck in gear.

Mary puttered around her homey kitchen, making coffee, relaxed and at ease. I sat stewing—and fidgeting.

“Should I put a splash of brandy in that coffee? Calm you down some?”

“I’m fine,” I growled.

“Brandy, it is.”

A mug thumped down in front of me. Mary sat down across the table. “Now, spill.”

“The kid isn’t really a kid.”

“How old is, ah, your new assistant?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five isn’t usually considered a child, Maxx,” she stated mildly.

I sipped the coffee. “Everyone seems like a kid to me these days.”

She laughed. “Wait until you get to be my age. Keep going.”

“So, Charly is short for Charlynn. He is a she.”

“Oh. So, your Girl Friday turned out to be exactly that. A girl. You never checked?”

“Her resume said C.L. Hooper. Her username was Charly. I never even thought.”

“A natural assumption, I suppose,” Mary murmured, her tone telling me she thought I was full of bullshit.

“When I found out, I almost left her at the bus stop. But she begged me for a trial.”

“I assume she needs the job.”

“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Anyway, she’s a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, pot meet kettle sort of thing?”

I glared at her. “She’s a redheaded, back-talking little snippet. She keeps forgetting I’m the boss.”

Mary’s lips quirked. “I see. And she’s doing a lousy job in the twenty-four hours she’s been here?”

I leaned back in the chair, looking at the ceiling. “No. Hell, she did the grocery shopping, organized the kitchen, and I found her neck-deep in paperwork this morning.”

“Wow. What a slacker. You should fire her.”

I chuckled at her dry comment.

“So, you’re angry that she’s a woman?”

I scrubbed my face. “Not really. I had thought I would be hiring one, so him being a her isn’t a bad thing.”

“And she is trying?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand. It’s a personality thing? You dislike her?”

I drained my coffee. “Not exactly.”

She studied me. “What aren’t you telling me, Maxx?”

I met her frank gaze. Mary and I had a solid, if slightly odd, friendship. She was older, widowed, and moved here about ten years ago. She and my mother had become friends, and when I lost my parents, she became almost a surrogate mother to me. I helped her around this place, fixing things. I kept her small truck in perfect running order. She fussed over me, and I allowed it.

We were also brutally honest with each other.

“We met Friday night. She came to town early, and I was in the bar having a bite, and we, ah, connected…”

“Oh, my god. You slept with her.”

“Yes.”

“And then you found out the he you thought you hired was a she, and you had already bedded her.”

“In a nutshell.”

Mary stared at me, tilting her head. Then she began to laugh. Long peals of laughter that echoed in the kitchen. I glowered at her, not finding this situation funny at all.

She calmed down, wiping her eyes. “I should have known,” she muttered. “As soon as I saw that asinine ad you placed, it was asking for trouble.”

“Trouble with a head full of red curls and a smart mouth,” I agreed.

She studied me. “You like her,” she stated.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. That’s why you’re reacting this way. You actually like her.”

“I’m not in the market for a relationship.”

She reached across the table and clasped my hand. “Maxx, I know what happened shook you. Destroyed your trust. But not everyone is them. Not everyone is out to take from you.”

“Leave it alone, Mary.”

She sat back, crossing her legs. “I’m going to come and meet this girl that has you tied up in knots.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just a pain.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Reynold's Restorations Suspense
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