A Co-Worker's Crush Page 5

  He stares at me in disbelief, as though every time he sleeps with a woman, he has to file a restraining order. “Okay, fine. But with the Jolie thing… I can buy her a stuffed puppy or something.”

  I laugh again. “She’ll be fine. Thanks though.”

  I walk out of the backroom before he suspects I’m lying. That I can’t stand the thought of the look on her face when she doesn’t get either of her wishes.

  I sit down on my stool beside Hennessy, who is sitting up and talking to Lyle about some bar in Sweden. “Ready?”

  “Of course.” She lies down and puts out her arm.

  I had been excited about her coming in, eager to live through her experiences of traveling through Europe and picking up odd jobs here and there to get by. But now I’m just pissed off. At everything and everyone seemingly.

  Jax walks out of the back room and sits at his station. His presence is as comfortable as if a bear were staring me down while I ate a big juicy burger.

  “What’s his deal?” Hennessey whispers. “Are you two…”

  I glance over and he doesn’t appear to be listening, so I shake my head.

  “So he’s fair game?”

  My heart squeezes, but I nod, placing the stencil on her inner wrist.

  “How are things with Michael then? And that sweet girl? Where is she?”

  Just as she asks, Sandy walks in with Jolie, so I have to stop before I even start.

  “There she is,” I say, giving my daughter a big smile.

  Hennessy coos about how adorable she is.

  Jolie goes up to Lyle and shows him the ornament she made out of construction paper at school. He tells her how awesome it is.

  “Hey, I wanna see.” Jax tosses his journal to the side and rests his forearms on his thighs, waiting for her to walk by the barrier. The one she’s really not supposed to go past.

  “Sorry, Frankie, I got called into work. Someone called in sick.” Sandy stands on the outside perimeter like clients are supposed to until they’re called back.

  “Bye-bye, Grandma.” Jolie hugs Sandy’s legs then opens the half door, heading over to Jax.

  “Man, I’ll be asking you to do my sketches for my tattoos soon.” Jax picks Jolie up and puts her on his chair, looking over her ornament. “You going to put it on your tree?”

  “When are we getting our tree, Mommy?” she yells across the room.

  I hold one finger up to her and look at Sandy. “No problem. Go. Thank you so much.”

  “Sure thing. See you tomorrow, little thing.” Sandy points at Jolie, and she giggles.

  “I’ll be the one with the pink backpack,” Jolie says, and Sandy laughs.

  Jax raises his hand for a high five, and Jolie smacks it as though he’s the one who taught her that.

  “Well, he’s quite the little step-in daddy, huh?” Hennessy distracts me from seeing the way Jax’s face lights up when he’s around Jolie. “Cute. Never pegged him for the dad type, but now he’s just a dad I’d like to—”

  I start the needle and Hennessy’s back falls back against the chair. Thank God she’s silent now.

  “I’m taking her over to Rian’s. She’s in need of a cookie fix,” Jax says.

  “I hope she has those monster cookies. They’re my favorite.” Jolie rubs her tummy and Jax picks her up as though I already said yes.

  Sure, I could put my foot down and say no cookie for Jolie because I don’t want her to get any more attached to Jax than she is. But the only other option is to let her sit here until I’m finished. So I nod and watch the two of them walk out of the parlor.

  I pause to give either Hennessy or myself a breather—I’m not sure which.

  Her head shifts from the door and back to me. “Okay, spill.”

  And even with Lyle there, I quietly tell Hennessy everything from my hatred for the man to how good of an orgasm he gives to my daughter wanting him to be her daddy. Damn, it feels good to let it all out.

  Chapter Seven

  Jax

  * * *

  As I walk Jolie over to Sweet Infusion next door, I have no idea how to navigate this new terrain I put myself on. Which I did. I can’t blame anyone but myself for why this little girl asked Santa for the unthinkable.

  When I first started at Ink Envy, I was annoyed but not surprised that Dylan would allow one of his renters to have her daughter all over the place. Sure, they’d tell Jolie she had to stay out of the area where we work, but do bulls listen to the cowboys who ride them? That’s what it’s like telling a small child she can’t go somewhere.

  After I learned a little more about what Frankie was going through with her ex, I can’t deny my heart split open. I’m a foster kid. I’ve seen bad shit, so I shouldn’t have been as affected as I was. But Jolie colored me a picture and it was over—the little girl won me over. But I’m the adult and I shouldn’t have allowed it to go this far.

  We walk into the bakeshop and no one is behind the counter. I know Dylan is here. Which means there’s funny business going on in the back.

  “Hey, we have a little person here,” I say extra loud.

  Rian comes out from the back, her face flushed pink and her apron askew. “Jolie!” She beams as though she’s happy to stop her tonsil hockey with Dylan and spend some time with Jolie.

  The entire shop looks like a Christmas store exploded in here. Rian does everything to the extreme, meaning there’s more red and green in this store than Macy’s in the city.

  “It’s so pretty.” Jolie touches a piece of garland around the case of cookies. “You have a tree?” She rushes over to the small tree that Rian decorated with cookie ornaments in the shapes of hats and mittens.

  “Do you have your tree yet?” Rian asks, opening the case of cookies and pulling out the monster cookie that Jolie loves. She comes over to Jolie’s side and hands it to her.

  “Wow, you used red and green sprinkles?” Jolie says.

  Rian nods.

  Dylan finally emerges from the back, his cheeks as flushed as Rian’s. I’m not gonna lie, I kind of admire what they got going on and I’m happy as shit my best friend found the one for him. It’s something he’s been searching for since we were kids. He always wanted a family, and he’s clearly going to have exactly what he wanted. But then again, Dylan’s always been the more mature one out of the two of us.

  “Not yet. Mommy said maybe tomorrow. Grandma said she’d give us her fake one, but…” Jolie runs her thumb over Rian’s fake branch. “Mommy and I always get real.” She sits down at the table. Luckily, Rian is winding down for the night, so no one else is here. “But Daddy usually takes it up the stairs and sometimes they fight over if it’s straight or not. Mommy said she doesn’t need Daddy this year, that we’re strong women.”

  Rian taps Jolie’s nose and sits down across from her. “Girl power. I love it.”

  “Who brought your tree in for you?” Jolie asks.

  Rian glances over her shoulder at Dylan and her smile slips. “You know what, Uncle Dylan would love to help your mom with the tree.”

  “Really?” Jolie looks at Dylan.

  He side-glances me. Knowing Dylan, he wants to talk to me about that Santa list.

  “Definitely. Even Santa needs his elves, right?” Dylan says.

  “Speaking of Santa. Guess what came in the mail today?” Rian stands and goes into the back, then returns with a marker and the magazine.

  “What’s that?” Jolie asks.

  “This is the toy catalog. I bet you can find some things to ask Santa for in here.”

  Again, Dylan looks at me. If Jolie weren’t right in front of us, I’d flip him off.

  Jolie pushes it away. “I already wrote my letter to Santa.” She bites into her cookie and crumbs fall onto the table.

  “But I heard you can change your mind. Santa doesn’t mind,” Rian says.

  I’ll give it to her, she’s really taken it upon herself to fix the situation I created. She’ll be an excellent mom someday.

 
“Nope, I don’t want to change my mind.” Jolie opens the catalog but doesn’t pick up the marker.

  “Well, you take that with you just in case.” Rian stands from the table and glares at me. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Jax?”

  “Nope,” I say.

  She stares blankly at me until I huff and follow her. It’s easier this way anyway.

  Once we’re in the back, leaving Dylan to keep Jolie busy, Rian pulls out a big lump of red batter from the fridge and starts pounding it on the table. There are cooling racks with an abundance of baked goods, from cupcakes to cookies to cakes, off to the side.

  She pounds the red dough, not looking at me. “That was my attempt to fix this for you.”

  “You don’t have to fix anything for me.”

  Rian stops and puts both hands on the table, glaring at me. “And what is going to happen on Christmas morning when that little girl wakes up?”

  Pound. Pound.

  “Frankie said she has it handled.”

  She stops again. If I said she was glaring before, I was wrong. Now she’s planning my death behind those blue eyes. “She’s going to handle it?”

  “Yeah.” I move to grab a cookie, but Rian smacks my hand. “So no cookie for me?”

  “No cookie until you undo what you’ve done.” She points at me.

  “Which is what?” I have to play dumb here. I’m fully aware of the position I’ve put Frankie in. I’m not happy about it, but damned if I know how to fix it.

  “You better get that girl to write another letter and beg Santa for something else.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  Pound. Pound. “Not my problem. Yours.”

  I pick up a cookie while she’s too busy beating the shit out of whatever that is, and I take a bite. “Where’s the sweet girl I used to share an apartment with? Dylan’s having a bad influence on you.”

  I walk toward the exit, but she calls out to me.

  “Jax!” I circle around, and the death glare she was giving me isn’t there anymore. “This is big. It’s one of those moments that can change Jolie and her outlook on the world. This is bigger than I think you realize.”

  I hold up my hand. Is she kidding me? Does she know how many memories I have of the shitty things that happened to me? “I realize that. Remember, I didn’t have a happy childhood. I’m well aware of the way things can stick with you.”

  And just as the pity look is about to come over her face, I walk out. I’m not interested in anyone’s pity.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Frankie whispers as we walk through the rows of pine trees.

  “Hey, I’m living out a childhood fantasy. This is a first for me too.”

  She stops for a second and I continue walking, catching up to Jolie. I should just take a sledgehammer and hit myself over the head with it. Rian’s words keep repeating in my head.

  “What about this one?” Jolie touches a tree, and a bunch of its needles fall to the ground.

  We’re a week and a half out from Christmas, so the selection isn’t superb, but one of these will do.

  “Let’s keep looking. Check that one out.” I point at one on the other side of the aisle.

  Frankie joins me as Jolie runs forward, following the direction of my finger. “I’m serious, Jax. This is a lot and I totally had this under control.”

  I look her up and down. “You were going to carry the tree up all those stairs?”

  “Hello, there’s an elevator.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Okay, but you and Jolie were going to carry it the five blocks to your apartment by yourselves?” I stuff my hands in my pockets. It’s fucking freezing outside.

  “I was going to tip the guy nicely and maybe he’d do me a favor.” Frankie laughs.

  What, is she crazy? Showing some random guy she doesn’t know where she lives?

  “That’s a good idea to put yourself in harm’s way.”

  “I wasn’t going to let him in the apartment.”

  I shake my head. “Well, now you have me, and since I’ve already been in your apartment and inside you, I’m not a threat.” Jesus. Why did I have to bring that up?

  She steps forward, her gaze darting to Jolie. “Are you implying that since you already saw me naked, you don’t care to see me that way again?”

  She’s kidding, right?

  “I never said that. Hell, if you want to start a little friends with benefits thing, I’m game.”

  “We’d have to be friends first.” She gives me a saccharine smile.

  Frankie’s mitten-covered hand touches a tree branch, and she leans in, breathing in the scent of pine. I think someone might enjoy Christmas more than she lets on.

  “Why friends? Enemies with benefits sounds a million times hotter.” I elbow her.

  Even in the cold, her cheeks glow with pink. I would’ve thought a woman like Frankie would be comfortable talking about sex.

  She shakes her head. “Well, there aren’t going to be any benefits. We both know those arrangements end badly. And we’re already in some weird, twisted scenario, what with my daughter wanting you under the tree with a bow. We don’t need to add any more complications to this situation.”

  Jolie runs over and takes my hand and Frankie’s. “I found it. It’s perfect.”

  She pulls us until we’re at the far corner of the lot. Frankie and I look at one another in disbelief.

  “This one?” Frankie asks, bending down to look at her daughter. Frankie runs her hands along one of the branches and none of the needles fall off.

  “It’s pretty,” Jolie says.

  “In a fugly way,” I say.

  Frankie whips her head back at me.

  “Fugly? What does that mean?” Jolie looks at Frankie.

  Frankie stands and examines the tree. “It’s another way of saying unique.”

  I’m not sure what’s to examine. It’ll sit cockeyed in the stand. Good luck getting an ornament to hang, let alone a star or angel on the top. I bend down and look through the branches. Sure enough, the stump is shaped like a banana.

  “Okay.” Frankie nods and hugs Jolie to her front. “This is our tree this year.”

  I look around at all the other trees. At least they have a straight stump, even if their needles are raining down like snow. “Really?”

  Frankie nods. “Yep, I think it’s a great tree.”

  Again, my eyes fall to the tree Jolie picked. I swear it even has a sad face, as if it’s the world’s grumpiest tree, ready to say bah humbug.

  “Okkkaaayyy,” I say and turn around to find the tree guy.

  When I track him down, he’s on his phone.

  “Hey, I need to buy the tree at the corner of the lot,” I say.

  “The blue spruce?”

  “The fugly crooked one with all its needles.”

  He nods, clearly knowing exactly the one I’m talking about. “How about twenty bucks?”

  “Twenty? That’s it?” I pull out my wallet.

  “I was gonna take it to the chipper tonight anyway. Everyone just makes fun of it. I was even feeling sorry for the thing.”

  I hand him the money, realizing we’re at least giving the tree a Christmas. Jesus, what is wrong with me? Why am I talking about a tree as if it’s a person?

  “I’ll package it up for you.” He walks back the way I came.

  I grab two candy canes from the bin and take them over to Frankie and Jolie.

  After the guy trims the stump and puts the tree through the netting, he bends down to Jolie. “You do know that this is a very special tree.”

  She nods, sucking on her candy cane.

  “He needs plenty of water and don’t put him by the heater.”

  Jolie nods and pets the tree. “Can I name him?”

  Frankie sighs, but Jolie is either used to it or doesn’t hear.

  The guy says, “Absolutely. I’ve been calling him Earl. He seems like an Earl to me. But just like when you adopt a dog, you can change his name to whateve
r you like.”

  Jolie’s eyebrows scrunch up and she glances back at Frankie and me. “Why would I change his name if he already has one? Is Earl ready?”

  I chuckle. Kids don’t get any cuter than this little girl.

  “Here you go. Bye, Earl, this little girl is going to take good care of you. Have a Merry Christmas.”

  I feel as though I should tip the guy because Jolie is absolutely over the damn moon right now.

  “Thanks. Jax is going to take Earl.” She points at me, and I step forward and take the small tree from the man.

  “Don’t forget, water and no heat,” the man repeats.

  Jolie gives him a thumbs-up. Then we all walk out of the pop-up tree farm as though we’re a family and just adopted Earl, the Christmas Tree.

  How the hell did I get here? I have to be in some movie. There’s no other explanation.

  Chapter Eight

  Frankie

  * * *

  Today is practically my last chance to deter Jolie from expecting what she asked Santa for. D-day is in four days. Thankfully, Jax told Jolie he couldn’t stay to decorate Earl. I know he’s trying to help by spending time away from her, and I appreciate it, but I can’t help but wonder if the damage is done. I’ve loved watching Jolie water the tree and talk to it as though it’s her friend. I wish she could have a sibling, but that’s years away and only if I could ever learn to trust a man again.

  I sit on the couch, sipping my coffee, staring at Earl. I’m shocked he hasn’t lost many needles. I feel a kinship with this tree. I’m a little bent but can weather a storm too.

  “Where are we going?” Jolie slides up on the sofa and hands me her socks, putting her feet in my lap. I told her I had a surprise for her after she was dressed and had her teeth brushed.

  I take the socks and put one on her little foot. She’s grown so much. Where did my toddler who could barely form words go? “We’re going to see Santa.”

  She gives me the look. I never thought a five-year-old could give me the “you’re crazy” look, but she’s mastered it.