Daddy's Dirty Boss

“All the more reason to think he’s falling short on his willpower.”

Jeez, how I wished he was falling short on his willpower.

Eventually we turned the conversation in other directions. We talked about her job at the hairdressers and how she fancied the guy who worked in the store across the road, and how I was absolutely loving learning the antiques industry, with or without Mr Lindon. We talked about my eighteenth and how my parents hadn’t even mentioned it yet, bar talking about heading out to a restaurant next weekend.

Maybe the glitter and cupcakes really were over this year.

Holly shook her head when I mentioned it. “There’s no way your parents will ditch glitter and cupcakes. You’ll be hitting retirement and your dad will still be looking at you like you’re five years old.”

She had that right.

“Come to me for the birthday evening if you’ve got nothing else on,” she suggested. “We’ll have a sleepover like old times, only this time with some prosecco to go along with our crappy reality TV viewing.”

The thought was surprisingly appealing. Appealing enough that I mentioned it to Mum and Dad when I got back home for the night.

They looked at each other for a fair few seconds before answering with great, sweetie, and I marked it down in my mental calendar as birthday activities to bring in womanhood. Seemingly I’d still be a virgin for a fair chunk of it at this rate.

Monday morning saw Mr Lindon ignoring me afresh, but I didn’t let it get me down any more than absolutely essential. I really was nearly eighteen, a serious young woman, and one who really was dedicated to being an auctioneer herself one day. I soaked up everything humanly possible from the finance team, even able to draw up some transport invoices myself by the time I moved on from there. I ended up in the saleroom and the Lindon Associates van for the rest of the week, working with their storage and warehouse guy, Stephen.

I guess it was the end of my first day with him that I first noticed the way his eyes hung onto me when he was talking. He was twenty-one, Rachel on reception had told me with nudges and winks during my first week there, but I hadn’t really given him any thought. Hadn’t even looked in his direction much when he’d called into the main office, either.

Here in the saleroom and the warehouse out the back it was just us, me and him, and the way he was walking so close to me. His smile was a good one, and his jeans were low slung, and I wished I could take a photo on my phone to whizz on over to Holly to get her interest, but I kept about my work without staring back at him, burning up just a little to feel the way he was checking me out.

There was only one man for me in this entire universe, but if there wasn’t… if there wasn’t then maybe… just maybe a guy like Stephen could one day be the one to grab my interest.

“Heard it was your birthday tomorrow,” he said before we left work on Friday night.

I flashed him a smile. “Eighteen years old, adulthood here I come.”

He shunted one of the bureaus back against the racking. “Maybe I could take you out for a couple of birthday drinks. Celebrate your big day.”

My cheeks flushed, I felt them in a beat, not quite expecting to be asked out on a date by a guy working next to me.

“I, um… I’m not sure what my weekend plans are yet…” I told him, and held up a teapot to the light to check out its pattern.

His smile was cocky. Confident. Unbelievably confident. “Next week then,” he said. “Just tell me what night you’re free.”

“I’ll have to check my diary,” I lied. “I don’t really know…”

His laugh was as cocky as his smile. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he said, and headed for the exit, his day done.

He held the door open, and smirked again as I dipped under his arm to step on through. I felt the heat from the way he was looking at me, and couldn’t meet his eyes, just flushed again and dashed on by. Dashed on by and almost straight into Mr Lindon standing there in the saleroom. I met his eyes in a flash, my cheeks burning up all the harder as his expression dropped from stern into something else.

Something heavy and fierce and full of fire.

Something I absolutely loved to the heart of me.

Stephen came swaggering up behind me, and I flinched in shock as his arm landed around my shoulders. He gripped me tight with a squeeze.

“Hey, Mr Lindon,” he said. “Faith is hot to trot with the help she’s giving. Think I can have her next week too?”