Page 58 of Heartless Boss
Stars pop across the dark sky and the wind howls as the trees sway back and forth as crickets sing a sweet melody. It was Gunner’s idea to have our date night here. He wanted to cook me dinner, but the steak turned out dry and the rice was too mushy. He’s a lousy cook, but I didn’t tell him that because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I ate it.
After I spilled my guts to him about Ryan, I felt relieved. I didn’t know how he would take it, but I didn’t expect him to be so accepting of it. I was hoping he would run for the hills because, honestly, I want him to prove me right about him. That he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and he has a cold heart.
“What do you mean? Career or in general?” I ask. The ground is starting to hurt my back, so I sit up and play with the ends of my hair. He draws invisible circles on my lower back.
“Career,” he answers. I look down at him and his face looks radiant and flawless. He’s wearing a button-down black shirt and gray slacks.
“Baking. I love to make people happy with my sweet treats.” I smile. “When I bake, I bake from the heart, it’s the only thing that makes me feel like I have a purpose.” I blush at my words. “I feel at ease and stress-free. Something about mixing stuff together is like a breath of fresh air. I don’t have to think about my troubles or the stress in my life. Do you understand?”
He nods. “Since you’re having trouble looking for a job, you should work at a bakery.”
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been putting in applications, but no one has called me back. I try not to get discouraged about it because I have a backup plan. If I don’t get another job, I’ll ask Gunner to transfer me to another department.
“The corporate world isn’t your cup of tea, Rainbow. You suck at your job.”
There’s no denying that. It’s true.
“I probably won’t make the money I need,” I say, bringing my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. The wind causes a few strands of my hair to tickle my cheeks.
“Don’t pick a job based on money. Pick one you love, otherwise you’ll end up hating it.”
“Do you hate your job?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Yes and no.” He gets up, then pulls me between his legs, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on top of my head.
“Explain?”
“I hate it because the hours are demanding and sometimes it can be very stressful, but I love it because I can give out so many jobs to people across the world. I can help single moms who can’t afford childcare—it’s why I have an in-house daycare. I opened up programs for people who are mentally ill or physically disabled, so if they can’t make it to work, they still will be able to pay their bills.”
I turn my head sideways, glancing up at him. I’ve never seen Gunner’s face light up like now when he talks about helping people.
“You’re a giver. You enjoy helping others.”
That explains why he was adamant about helping me. I smile as he strokes my belly.
“Yeah, especially women and kids.”
I scrunch up my nose. “But you don’t respect women.”
“Correction, I do respect women. I respect my momma, my sister, and you. It’s the women who try to milk every dime out of me I don’t respect.” He tucks some of my hair behind my ear and kisses the tip of my nose.
We’re quiet for a few moments, listening to his next-door neighbor yelling at his kids to come inside.
“Well ... I’m using you for your penis,” I joke, trying to make light of the conversation.
“That’s it, huh?”
“Yep. Money is overrated.” I shrug. “Big penises are where it’s at.”
“You cut me real deep, Gia. Real deep.” He presses his hand to his chest and fake-pouts.
“Might as well enjoy the ride until this experiment is over,” I tease.
Suddenly, his demeanor morphs from a smile to a frown. “You want to head back inside?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He helps me off the ground.
