She wouldn’t have thought twice about letting her hang out in a lab with a new hire who makes a daily habit of pissing me off. Hell, by the end of her life, she was desperate to pass the kidlet off to a nanny whenever I wasn’t around.
How could this be worse?
Only, my parenting may be far from perfect, but I’m sure as hell not outsourcing it again.
If I’m being honest, my concerns about Destiny spending time with Badger Lady in research and development have nothing to do with my daughter. It’s more the strange, almost violent reaction to Badger Lady.
It’s the way my eyes wander over Eliza’s ample body. She’s not a scrawny girl—definitely on the thick side—with curves for miles. Completely unlike any woman I’ve ever had in bed before.
And unlike anyone who’s ever worked for me, she makes my cock hard enough to engrave my name in steel.
Fuck.
I don’t want her more entangled in my life, striking up a friendship with my daughter.
Time to nip this in the bud.
I pull out my phone, open the email app, and start typing.
Miss Angelo,
Please inform me if Destiny becomes negligent in any of her duties during her time in R & D. She’ll be off to college in three short years, and it’s time for her to learn some work ethic.
I also want to make sure she’s not getting in the way of any real work on your end.
As you know, this scorched drink line is crucial to Wired Cup’s new vision. I won’t have my beloved teenager’s antics disrupting our mutual success.
Sincerely,
Cole Lancaster Jr.
Chief Executive Officer, Wired Cup Noble Inc.
A minute later, I’m still staring at the screen, frowning and second-guessing myself.
What the hell? I never have doubts over a simple email.
What has she done to me?
With a rough groan, I delete it unsent.
There’s no point.
Eliza’s too gentle, too easygoing to squeal on Destiny for playing around.
That fucked up part of me I want to ignore wishes I could see Miss Angelo outside the lab, away from work.
Would she bring the same smart mouth with her over drinks?
Would she go stiff and warm and delectable like she did when I cornered her in the lab and we touched?
Does that mouth of hers have other talents? How many undeserving punks got to find out if she sucks as hard as she insults?
Goddamn.
“Knock it off,” I mutter to myself, lightly tapping one side of my face.
My fingers come back slick. I’m sweating bullets.
Utterly ridiculous.
There’s a reason—no, a thousand reasons—why I’ve never brought any woman to my bed since Aster and I’m not about to start now. Not for any shortage of options.
I could have my choice of willing lays. Yet I’d rather live like a monk, married to my own right hand over any risk of complicating my life again.
Let alone poor Destiny’s.
Maybe I’m still haunted, too.
Our marriage was seriously flawed, but Aster was my daughter’s mother. My wife, my woman, for richer or poorer, in sickness with little health.
She deserves a certain respect.
Sure, Dess might joke about me getting remarried now that she’s older, but it opens up a big enough can of worms to hijack a bait shop.
Fifteen is a hard fucking age.
Losing her mother when she was barely old enough to understand it was brutal enough.
No matter how much she grows up, I swore a long time ago I wouldn’t make it worse for her.
Never mind the glaring fact that I’d never get mixed up with an employee.
Strict HR policies against it aside, I don’t have to think hard about the example I’d be setting to know it’s a piss poor choice.
I won’t have my baby girl thinking it’s acceptable to date your boss.
Hell, if her boss ever tried, I’d hunt the dickhead down and tear him limb from limb.
Though if somehow Destiny didn’t know about a reckless fling with a badger of a woman who might be too much honey—
Cole, fuck you. You’re playing with fire.
I sigh, knowing that venomous little voice in my head is right.
I’ve always been smart enough to choose cold, hard reality over any wet dream.
And I’ll damn sure choose sanity before I give Eliza Angelo a whisper of a chance to burn me.
7
Charity Coffee (Eliza)
The next day, Destiny sits on the marble counter I’m standing over, her long legs swinging under her.
“Give me the crushed graham crackers, please,” I say.
She picks up the clear glass bowl without hesitation and hands me the crumbs I just spent the last half hour crushing before she came in.
“I thought Dad said you couldn’t make cookies?” She gives me a nervous look, flicking her gaze around the room like she’s half expecting His Highness to stroll through the door.
“Destiny, your dad can kiss my ass. Uh, no offense.” I dump the melted butter into the bowl and give it a quick stir.