Page 32 of The Boss and the Adoption Mess
"Yeah, that’sreallyold." Her eyes go wide and look at the elevator. The door opens and Kim appears. Thirty really isn’t old but in her four-year-old eyes, I’m practically a grandpa.
When I look at Kim, my breath catches for a second. She’s dressed to impress—hair down in soft waves, makeup that highlights her natural beauty, a red blouse under a black blazer, and subtle gold jewelry. Even the short skirt doesn’t look cheap, just elegant with the pantyhose. It rather shows off her long legs. She takes a few elegant steps in black heels.
I’m impressed. Very impressed.
Chapter 7
Kimberley
When the elevator doors slide open, the first thing I see is Rosie’s face lighting up.
“Hey, I’m back. Just like I promised.”
“Kim!” She lets go of Gabriel and comes running. I kneel down, grinning, and she throws herself into my arms immediately.
“You really kept your promise!”
That means so much to her…
“Of course. Cross my heart.” I’m still hugging her as I glance up at Gabriel. I smile at him, and he actually manages a quick one back.
“Take your time. Have fun,” he says, stepping back. I stand, offer Rosie my hand, and she grabs it with excitement. I wave to Gabriel, and Rosie copies me with a big wave of her own.
“See you later,” I tell him.
“Bye-bye!” Rosie calls out as the doors close, and we head down.
The grocery store isn’t far, so we walk. Rosie chats the whole way, telling me about the other girls in her daycare, her favorite showPrismabella—all about princesses and unicorns—and then, just as we reach the store, she drops something new on me:
“Gabriel gave me money.”
“Really? I was planning to treat you, but if he’s footing the bill, even better.” No complaints here.
“He said we should buy all the ingredients. And then, with whatever’s left, you’re supposed to buy yourself flowers. To say thanks for watching me.”
That actually catches me off guard.
“Flowers?”
She nods.
“From the leftover money?” Another nod, and she fishes a fifty-pound note out of her pocket.
“That’s a lot of money. The ingredients won’t cost more than…” I trail off, doing the math. If we grab good cocoa and a nice sweetener, maybe fifteen or twenty pounds, tops. Still, it feels a little strange buying myself flowers with the extra. Sweet of him, sure, but I’d rather spend it on something nice for the kid—or even on Gabriel. Maybe that would loosen him up a little.
“Probably not that much,” Rosie says as she snags a kid-sized cart. We start with oat milk, then the cocoa, then a sweetener. Total comes to £17.25. Not bad—I called that pretty close.
We wander past the plant section and spot these adorable, colorful bouquets. That sparks an idea.
“You know what? I thinkweboth deserve flowers.” They’re £15 each, so we grab two and still have some coins left.
“We could also bring something back for Gabriel. What do you think?”
“Yes, something that makes him less stressed!”
If such a miracle product existed, it’d be flying off shelves.
“What does he like to eat?” I ask. I wouldn’t mind chipping in a bit if he’s already covering my flowers.
