Bossy(54)

“She didn’t make him punch me in the face,” Cooper pipes up. “I want them both fired. And my damn money back.”

Fuck, what a shitstorm.

I glance at Claire, and even in the middle of everything, a grin slowly spreads on my face. I didn’t think she had it in her. Chili-mayo donuts, sure, but a prank on this level? She must be thinking the same thing, as she slaps her hand over her mouth as a half sob, half laugh comes out. What a fucking pair we are.

“Everyone shut up!” Dad’s voice fills the room, overpowering everyone else. “No one is getting fired and no one’s getting their money back. This is ridiculous.” We all turn to stare. He’s so mad, he growls. “Claire and Declan, you two will have this room back to normal before tomorrow morning or you will be fired. Is that clear?”

We stand straight next to each other, our voices replying in unison. “Yes, sir!”

He turns to Cooper, and tips his head respectfully. “First of all, I apologize for everything. Their behavior today has been uncalled for, unprofessional and probably illegal.” He glances at me briefly. “I’m sure you would like the chance to work out a little of that anger, so I suggest you do just that. One free punch, and I promise no retaliation, physical or otherwise.”

Claire gasps.

“Unorthodox.” Cooper’s eyes light up.

“Given what I’ve seen of your business practices, Mr. Cooper, unorthodox should be quite familiar.”

For a moment, Cooper’s face goes slack, like he’s trying to figure out if he was just complimented or insulted, then he dismisses it, turning to me instead. His face twists into a vicious sneer. “I accept, but will these idiots still be working my case?”

Dad sighs and nods. “They will, since it’s too late to bring in anyone else. However, I’ll personally be overseeing their progress and making sure everything is as it should be. If you aren’t completely satisfied, they will answer to me and you will be refunded.”

Cooper looks at his friend, who shrugs, and then nods grudgingly. “Alright.” Cracking his knuckles, he glares at me. “Ready?”

I stand up straight, and look right at Cooper. It’s childish but satisfying to know that he’ll have to swing up to hit me. “Let’s get this over with.”

He wastes no time, but his punch is about as convincing as his handshake. His form is decent, but the swing is weak. When he connects with my jaw, I feel the sting, but from the way he pulls his hand back, I bet it hurt him more than me.

Whatever. I rub my chin just to placate him, and as expected, it makes the little bastard grin.

I look at Dad. “Are we done?”

Cooper scowls at me, at Claire and then back to my father. “Today was obviously a waste of my time, but I expect a full report in my inbox by tomorrow morning. If it’s not there to my satisfaction, you’ll be hearing from me. Come on, Mitchell.” And with that, he storms out of my office, followed by his lackey.

The three of us watch them leave, and as soon as they step into the elevator, Dad speaks, “If I ever have to do this again, you’re both on your asses out of here. The only reason you’re still here is because I can’t punch him myself. I’m regretting ever taking his case, but that doesn’t mean that you are free to clown around. Is. That. Clear?”

“Like crystal, Dad.”

“Yes, Sir.” Claire’s head is bowed and her hands are fidgeting. “Thank you.”

He gives us both a stern look. “I’ve always wondered what it would’ve been like to have had more children, but I never expected to find out at this age.”





Claire


“You’re sure this is ‘dignified’ enough?” I put my hair up in a ponytail before I pry up the top of the paint tin with one of my keys. “Because maybe we need to go back and look at paint samples some more. I’m not sure you used enough time on it.”

Declan’s moving furniture away from the walls, and doesn’t bother looking at me. “Shut up. It’s important. It sets the tone for the whole room.”

I sit back and watch him. Somehow, someway, we both managed to screw up so royally that our disasters seem to have negated each other. I was ready to hate him for life, but now? It’s easy and comfortable. Like we’ve come through a storm together and—for the moment at least—the skies are clear.

“Were the donuts for me?”

He’s quiet, but eventually grunts an affirmative. “Don’t read too much into it. I just... it wasn’t supposed to be like that, you know?”

“Uh.” I gesture around the room. “I got a dose of that myself today, remember? God, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it going down like that.”