Page 5 of Her Irish Boss

That felt like a lifetime ago. Now, her mom had taken off with some guy to California, and Mimi was her responsibility. Knowing how to act at a country club or five-star restaurant didn't pay the bills.

“I'll just get there early and change.” Pulling on a clean tank top, she headed out of the bedroom, leaving the pile of laundry a complete mess on the bed. But what was new? “I'm going to wait at the door for Ms. Perry.”

“Alright, Selena,” Mimi cooed in her slow, Southern voice, back in reality and flipping through a catalog that neither one of them could afford a thing from. Mimi had helped raise her, her own father taking off shortly after herninth birthday. He'd also belonged to a different level of society, according to her mother – one where water heaters didn't stop working every other day.

Selena tapped the screen of her cell phone, staring at the time as she stood at the door to her apartment. Suddenly, she felt a pang of sympathy for what she put Mr. O'Keeley through as she waited for the nurse. “Why couldn't Ms. Perry make it by ten thirty for once in her life?” she muttered.

Finally, the nurse, who might have been a year or two younger than Mimi and moved just as slowly, arrived.

“I have to run,” she called to Ms. Perry, passing her on the stairs. At this rate, she would be even later than yesterday. Mr. O'Keeley had explicitly asked her to be on time. She wasalmostready. She might not have on the right shirt, but she did have her shoes and hair fixed for the day. And a little makeup to cover her dark circles.

No way she'd make it there on time.

Selena tore out of the parking lot and cut through a neighborhood to avoid rush hour traffic. After following a school bus which made four stops, she slammed on her brakes and laid on the horn of her small car, hoping to get the dog in the middle of the road to move. It turned its head, staring at her with a pathetic look. The kind of look the dogs on those commercials gave, had her feeling guilty for not having more money to save them all.

The dog moved in slow steps across the rest of her lane. Nope. That dog didn't care that Selena was already twenty minutes late leaving.

But her boss would care.

He'd give her adisapproving kind of look. The one that made her both want to melt into a puddle and make some smart-ass comment. He was bossy. Rude. Dominating.

And hot.

God, his blue eyes pinned her in place and made her lose track of her thoughts. If only she could figure out a way to have the rest of him pin her down.

She honked again, and the dog picked up speed, trotting to the side of the road, looking like a hitchhiker down on his luck.

She'd been there. Not a hitchhiker, but that depressed, sad state where it felt like a good, substantial meal might change everything. Now, she had a steady job she loved. If she still had the job after showing up late so many times, because, according to Mr. O'Keeley, on time was late.

That saying never made any damn sense to her. But why should it? She was “on time” everywhere she went. She wouldn't go around purposefully late. It wasn't even her fault this morning. It'd rarely been her fault since her grandmother moved in.

Mr. O'Keeley didn't have to worry about things like grandmothers. He probably had “people” to take care of that. His suits screamed money, which was another reason she should stop her dumb daydreams. She didn't know anything about fancy wine or food. Her apartment was a little better than a shit-hole, the best she could afford now supporting her grandmother, whose Social Security checks were split between her expensive medicine and covering part of her nursing care.

Selena had already been in one relationship with a man who cared about money and appearance. And she had no intention of returning.

But her body didn't care about her intentions. It intended to keep right on daydreaming about Mr. O'Keeley and that accent. Especially when he got the least bit irritated, and it dropped a little deeper.

She ran a yellowish red light. Orange. She'd call it an orange light for now and ignore the adrenaline rush at breaking the law. Some things were worth breaking the law. Getting to work on time so your anal-retentive boss didn't fire you was one of them.

Her phone rang, and she answered it, flipping it to speakerphone and setting it in her lap. Hands-free driving was a luxury she didn't have. “I'll be there in ten.”

“He's still in his office. I bet if you make it in like five minutes, he wouldn't even know you're late. Again.” Katie whispered every word.

“I'll do the best I can.”

“You better not get fired. I couldn't stand to work here without you.” Katie had become a close friend in the past six months, both starting at O’Keeley’s at the same time.

Selena shook her head and blew through another orange light. “You love it there as much as I do.”

“I meant about Mr. O'Keeley. He makes me nervous.”

He made Selena nervous, too, but based on her tone of voice, not in the same way as Katie. “I'll be there. Bye.”

She raced down the street, swinging into the parking lot at a NASCAR pace and pulling her small car into its usual spot. She grabbed her purse and sprinted through the parking lot. The quicker she got into the building, the better. And, as it was every morning she was late, she hoped she didn't see Mr. O'Keeley.

But really, she hoped she did.

Instead of walking through the door at 10:59 a.m., she arrived at a stunning 11:02 a.m. But Mr. O'Keeley didn't wait by the front door as usual. Her luck might have turned around. She booked it through the dining room and straight into the employee break room to change.

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