5

3

BODI

TWO WEEKS LATER

Mytabletsitsin my hand as I walk off the elevator, my sunglasses pushed up in my brown crest. A smile splits my face when I’m greeted by Agnes giving me a short wave. Her silver-gray eyes sparkle as much as the hairspray in her hair, and her already rosy cheeks are highlighted with a brighter pink blush.

“Good morning, Agnes. How are you today?” I stop in front of her desk.

She looks up from under the glasses sitting on her nose, giving me a friendly smile.

“I’m good, Mr. McKay.”

“After six months, you still won’t call me Bodi?”

A small smile forms on her red painted lips. She reminds me of my grandmother, radiating comfort. Someone you can rely on when life makes you believe nothing is certain.

“I know you youngsters like to be on a first name basis with everyone, but my generation was raised differently. I will never call my boss by his first name. Even if he’s thirty years younger than I am.” She eyes me from over the rim of her glasses. “And certainly not during work hours.”

I grab my heart. “Wait, are we not in the same generation?”

“Charming, Mr. McKay. I bet you will have great success with the ladies.” Her giggle is warming my chest. When I opened my office here in Atlanta, I got a lot of applications for the office manager positions. Many young girls, straight out of college. Many young girls who wanted an audience with the owner of Kayman Publishing International. Meaning me. A few men who were either overqualified, asking for way too much money, or didn’t really feel like they would fit my team. But then Agnes Nichols walked in. She was wearing a gray pencil skirt that hugged her elderly curves and matched it with a white button down that was all the way up to her neck. Her gray hair was up in a bun, and other than the choice of make-up she went for, she wouldn’t necessarily stand out in a crowd. She looked like the stereotypical secretary that’s over sixty. But when I looked down, noticing the white Adidas Originals she was rocking on her feet, I knew she was something special. Then, when my eyes locked with her friendly gaze, I knew we had a winner. Any woman over sixty who shamelessly walks around in sneakers paired with a pencil skirt is a winner to me.

“I can’t complain, but I’m not as lucky as your Flint,” I flirt, shooting her a wink.

“Oh, please.” She waves my words away. “Maybe if you spent less time looking for new sneakers online, you’d actually have the time to find a nice girl.” She glances over her desk to look at the shoes on my feet.

“Are those new?” There is a suspicious glint in her now narrowing eyes.

“No.” I try to suppress a smile. “But even if we go there, Agnes, I don’t think there is room for a woman in my life,” I tell her with a serious face.

“How come?”

“I simply don’t have room in my closet.”

She falls into laughter as I stroll my way to my office.

“One day, you’ll meet that one girl who will make you wanna throw them all out.”

“Don’t think so, ma’am!” I holler back before I close the door.

A coffee is waiting for me on my desk, still damping hot, and I smile in appreciation.

The woman is a godsend.

I look over at the city, the sun shining over the skyline while a content feeling settles inside of me. The view from my office is a daily reminder I’ve done pretty well for myself. Something I never take for granted and always try to remember.

My thoughts are interrupted when my phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans, and I pull it out.

“What’s up, mate?” I ask when I notice it’s my best friend. I drop my ass on my chair, my feet propped on my desk as I look outside.

“She’s driving me mad,” Jensen blurts.

“Whoa, hold up, mate. It’s eight-thirty in the morning. Please don’t give me any marital problems before I had my fucking coffee.”

“Shut up, outback Jack. I’m not even married.”

“Huh? That explains why I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“And you won’t be if you keep acting like a dick.”

“Fine,” I concede with a smile. “Why is Rae driving you crazy?”

“Not Rae!” he hisses through the phone, as if he has to be careful with his words. “Kayla!”

“What about her?” My mind quickly wanders off to the brunette in question. The sassy nineteen-year-old who reminds me of a forbidden fruit. Lurking at me with her big blue eyes but is oh-so off limits. We had some fun at Rae’s birthday last summer, and I couldn’t even resist flirting with her at Thanksgiving, but she’s definitely too young for me. I would be lying, though, if I didn’t wish she was a little older. She’s fun, quirky, and hot as sin.

“She’s everywhere. I mean, I love the girl. She’s family and all, but I’m used to being able to get Rae naked wherever I want. And whenever I want.”

I roll my eyes. “Fucking hell, mate. Too much fucking detail. Is she there for the weekend?”

“No,” he scoffs. “She’s been staying here for the last two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

”Is that Bodi?” I hear Rae asking in the background. Jensen hums in agreement, and before I know it, she takes over the phone, her sweet voice ringing in my ear.

“How are you doing, Bodi?”

“I’m good, Goldilocks. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Glad all the holiday madness is over.” She sounds tired and relieved at the same time.

“We had fun, though. This was the first time in ages I didn’t have to listen to your mother-in-law, and it was a blessing for my ears.”

She snorts through the phone, and I imagine her nose scrunched up, with her long blonde hair moving in front of her face. “Ha! Don’t call the Wicked Witch of the East my mother-in-law. That makes it sound like we’re related, and I’m not fucking related to the woman.”

“I hate to break it to you,” I say through a chuckle with my thick Australian accent, “but as soon as you start popping out babies, you’ll officially be related.”

She grunts into the phone, rolling her eyes, I’m sure. “Bodi McKay, please don’t ruin my day by saying shit like that.”