Tears fill my eyes, and I nod my head. Rex rushes over and puts both hands on my cheeks, pulling me into a deep kiss. All of my dreams are coming true. The man of my dreams has given me the career, and now the family, of my dreams.
I knew he’d be excited. Though he’s expressed his hesitation of taking on a work/life balance, I’ve repeatedly reassured him that we are strong enough together to get through anything and win. After all, I’m Hope Nichols. I can do anything.
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Possessive Boss Next Door: An Insta Love Billionaire Office Romance
The Billionaire Boss & the New Office Girl.
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SNEAK PEAK: Possessive Mechanic
The Biker Mechanic and the Boss Loving Heroine
Chapter 1
Verity
If you’re going to start over, it’s best to head where no one knows who you are or what horrible experiences you’ve been through. Enter Callman’s Creek, Wisconsin. Everything here is absolutely gorgeous, a far cry from the stressful bustling Chicago life I’ve been living for the last six years. It’s amazing how you can work your whole life to get where you’re going and then one little thing—or, person as it is in my case—erases it all in a single board hearing, leaving you unemployed and with a reputation as someone who cannot be trusted around men.
What total bullshit. Men should be as accountable for their actions as women, but welcome to corporate America. Good riddance, I say!
My car weaves down the small downtown main strip. A smile spreads across my face taking it all in. There’s the cafe, the cute little coffee shop, the hardware store, and at the very end with the gigantic neon cross blinking all hours of the night is Savior’s Auto Shop. It’s also the only place I’ve found since I’ve been here for the last few weeks that actually has a “help wanted” sign out front.
I pull into the nearest parking spot and turn off the ignition. My brain races again with the work from home options I’ve reviewed over and over again. None of them seem right. I need a clean break from marketing. The idea of being some start-up company’s social media bitch couldn’t be less appealing to me right now. I need to acclimate to the area, to be a part of a community. Loneliness is real, and I’m experiencing it first hand. Any job will do. I just need to be around people again.
I throw open the car door and my three-inch booties click against the pavement. It’s so quiet here I think as the door thuds shut behind me. With my resume in hand, I head up to the front door of Savior’s. God only knows what I’m getting into applying at an auto shop. The only time I’ve been in one is when my car needs a tune-up, and that one time I got a flat tire.
I picture fat men in greasy wife-beaters, although I’m pretty sure that term is no longer P.C. What is? My fingers run against the loose sundress I’ve chosen for this hot August day. The determination coursing through my veins to start over and figure my life out is the only thing keeping my feet moving toward the door, which chimes overhead as I open it.
The air conditioning blasts me in the face and I stand in front of a beautiful repurposed wood counter. Not what I was expecting. It smells wonderful in here, like cinnamon. The chairs are cream and plush, with music overhead instead of a television blasting sports. I do a little circle around myself taking all of it in. To say I’m surprised is an understatement. Is this place run by women?
“Can I help you?” A voice calls out from behind the counter, startling me as I spin back toward its direction. The salesman’s smile that’s become second nature slowly evaporates as I take in the man staring back at me.
Holy Moses. It’s like I’ve waltzed back in time to the nineteen-fifties. He’s huge. Not just big, but gigantic. In fact I have to raise my chin to look up at him. He’s wearing a heather gray V-neck t-shirt that shows off his ridiculously buff biceps. As he leans on the counter I can’t help but stare at the thickness of his neck. His frame reminds me of a tree trunk—thick, and sturdy.
The kind of tree I’d like to climb.
No. No. No. That’s exactly what got you into trouble last time.
He cocks his head, and it hits me that I still haven’t answered. I shake my head and plaster my smile back on. “Hi,” I say and throw out my hand. The gigantic mechanic just stares at it, causing me to retract it back to my side. “I’m Verity Morgan, new to town, and I noticed the sign in the window.”
“Sign?”
“Help wanted.”
“Oh, that one.”
“Is there more than one?”
“There’s the tire rotation special.”
“Must’ve missed that one.” My lame attempt at a joke is met with silence. Great. This is going well. “Hannah down at the diner said you were looking for an office manager of sorts,” I say, and pull out my resumé. “And I happen to be a professional office type of woman.”
The resumé slides across the counter, and the man’s eyes shoot down. He begins reading it. His face doesn’t show any sign of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Hawk.”
“Like the bird?”
“That’s right.” He says. “You aren’t an office manager, you’re a what? Social Media person?”
“Social media marketing person to be exact, but I started out as an office manager. Organization is my thing. Some people say that OCD is actually my greatest special skill.” I huff at my own wit. Hawk remains stoic.
“I don’t think you’re the right fit.” He says, and slides my resumé back to me and begins walking out toward the back of the shop.
“What?” I say. “Wait. How do you even know that? You haven’t even spoken with me. I’m qualified, bud. I’m over qualified. In fact—”
“No.” He says, still on his way.
“Why?”
“Why?” He repeats, turning back toward me. At least I got his attention. “Because…” His steely gray eyes bounce up and down my body, sending a wave of heat right through me. Even with the air conditioning on full blast, it’s enough to make me break a sweat. I lick a bead of salty wetness from my upper lip. “Because you’re not, that’s all.”
Then it hits me. “Is it because I’m a woman?” I ask. This is all the ammunition I need. No one in this town is hiring. I’m about to run out of money and I don’t have many options. “Because if it is that’s one-hundred percent discrimination. Trust me. I’ve seen my fair share of suits like this working for a big company. It’s something you don’t want to deal with, trust me.”
Hawk throws his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” He says. “Come with me.”
“Oh,” I say, not expecting to win out that easily. “Okay.”
“We’ll interview in the back office. My office.” I nearly do a little jig. I pride myself on the powers of persuasion. As I follow him back, past the line of cars where men are working and power tools are humming, I can’t help but again take note of his amazing size. I’m not a small girl—size twelve to be exact, and there are very few men that even make me feel like I could be considered anything but ‘full figured.’ Hawk, however makes me feel like a petite little flower.