Worst boss ever, p.23
Worst Boss Ever, page 23
“Just being at school, hearing other kids talk about their moms and their dads and what they did at the weekend and what they were going to do for Christmas or holidays, and how their dad got them a bike or how their mom took them to the mall to buy clothes, or how they got dating advice or how they got scolded or told they had to get better grades. I had none of that. No one cared if I failed or got A’s. No one cared if I got a date. No one cared to tell me that I should open a car door for a girl or smile and buy her roses. No one cared.”
“Your brother cared.”
“He didn’t know. He was younger than me. When you grew up without parents, you grow up not having a sense of being, a sense of purpose, a sense of self. I didn’t even know I was Scottish until recently.” He started laughing. “Can you believe that I’m Scottish?” I mean, I know I’m American, but my ancestry is something else. Your parents were from England and Guyana, and you have a whole sense of identity based around that. I never knew what that was like.”
“That’s true,” I said, acknowledging what he was saying. “I do. And I’m lucky because I’ve always known that my parents have loved me more than anything. They’ve taught me right from wrong, and they’ve taught me to be a strong, independent woman, and they’ve taught me to believe in love and to dream and to aspire. But you know what, Dylan?”
“What?” he said.
“Even though you didn’t have parent figures, you were still able to make it by yourself. You had drive. You cared enough to make something of your life, and that’s admirable.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m a billionaire. Whoop-de-do.”
“I’m not talking about the money. I’m talking about doing something that you love. And I’ve seen you. You do love your job. It’s not just about the money. Maybe it’s about the power and other things, but it’s not just about the money.”
“That’s true.” He looked at me, surprised. “You’ve been able to tell that?”
“Of course. I sit in the office with you every day.”
“You notice a lot.”
“I do.” I nodded.
“You’re a good secretary, Abby.”
“Do you really think that or are you just saying that?”
“I really think that, or I would’ve fired you.” He laughed.
“Well, thank you.”
He stretched his arm out and placed one hand on top of mine. “You’re a good lover as well.”
“Dylan!” I giggled shyly.
“What?” He shifted closer to me as his fingers moved to my leg.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m about to kiss you, and then I’m going to fuck you.”
“But—”
“But what?” he said, his blue eyes staring into mine intensely. “We were talking, and now we’re done talking.”
His lips pressed against mine and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I loved the taste of him, the feel of him against me. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to pull him even closer to me. He stood up, pulling me up with him, and we stumbled over to the bed.
He took his shirt off and then his pants, and I ripped off my clothes quickly as well until we were both naked, in front of each other. He pulled me into his arms as I looked up into his eyes, my breasts were pressed against his chest. I could feel his hard erection against my stomach, but neither of us moved. We just stared into each other’s eyes.
He smiled softly and ran his hands through my hair, playing with my curls. His thumbs then moved to my face and ran over my eyebrows and down my cheeks and along my jawline. His index finger ran down the middle of my nose and traced a line around my lips.
“You’re perfection, Abby.”
“I’m not. Trust me, I’m not,” I said, not knowing what else to say. My heart was beating rapidly. My feelings for this man ran deep, deeper than any feelings I’d ever had for anyone in my life. I felt like my heart was about to burst out of my chest.
“You are,” he said. “You’re exactly what I’ve been missing in my life.” He tilted his head to the side and surveyed me, a wide small across his lips. “Don’t ever tell anyone I said it, but … you might just be the best decision I’ve ever made, Abby Waldron.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, if you don’t know, maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.” He picked me up and lay me down on the bed, then he spread my legs and buried his face in my pussy. I twisted my hands in the sheets and closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of his tongue.
He was too intoxicating, too charismatic, too much, and I loved every part of him. I loved this man, and I wanted to be with him forever. But I knew it was too early to tell him that.
I had no idea where we were going. Tonight had been a pivotal moment, but I didn’t know exactly what it meant. But I did know I had to be patient because Dylan McAllister was the man I wanted to spend my life with.
Chapter 39
Dylan
* * *
“This is my son, Shamus, and this is my son, Alistair, and this is my son, Connor. Connor, Alistair, and Shamus, this is your cousin, Dylan.”
“Nice to meet you.” Connor nodded at me and handed me a beer. “You want a drink?”
“Yes. Thanks.” I took the beer from him and smiled. Abby was on the other side of the room, talking to another family member that I’d been introduced to but didn’t really know. I felt out of my element, but strangely enough, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. These were my people. I never thought I’d be able to say something like that before. These were my people, my cousins, we were blood relations.
“So I heard you’re a big shot in the States, then,” the one I believed was Shamus asked me. He had bright red hair, and I thanked God that I haven’t gotten those genes.
“Well, I don’t know about big shot.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Barbara said. “I looked you up. You’re very successful.” She frowned at her three sons. “But just because he’s your cousin doesn’t mean he owes you anything. So don’t be asking him for any money. You hear me, boys?”
“Honestly, Mum!” Alistair shook his head. “It’s not like we were going to ask him for money. We just met him tonight. I mean, maybe tomorrow night.” He looked at me and winked.
“Don’t worry,” Shamus said. “We won’t ask you for money, Dylan, but we’re glad to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you through the years, you know?”
“Really?” I was surprised.
“Of course. You, the very famous member of the family, even if you never met us before. You don’t know how much our mum and our auntie talked about you. And your mum.” He stopped short when Connor gave him a look. “Oops, sorry. Are we not meant to talk about his mum?”
“It’s okay. It’s been a long time,” I said. “Do you know what happened to my dad?”
“We don’t know. I mean, if we were over in America, we would’ve killed him, you know.” They looked at me with sympathy.
“Yeah. I would’ve killed him too.” I already had a call in with my private investigator to see if he could locate my father. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be found or not, because I hated him. I hated every single thing about him. I didn’t know exactly what had gone down with my mother, and I didn’t know if the story that Barbara had told me was entirely true, but it couldn’t all have been lies. And if it was true, that meant my father was a murderer. Maybe it was an accident, I didn’t know.
But I wasn’t sure if this was a case of ignorance being bliss. Maybe I didn’t want to know. I was strong, but I didn’t know what I would do if I found out something that bad.
What if I was in front of the man and …
“Hey, Dylan, you hungry?” Connor asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about my parents.”
“I understand,” Barbara rubbed my shoulder. “It must be very hard. I mean, it’s been hard for us, but I can only imagine for you.”
“It’s been … challenging,” I said. I heard Abby laughing in the corner, and I looked over. She was so genuine. So kind. And I was so glad that she’d accepted this invitation. She’d known better than I had. She’d known that this would be helpful. That it would give me some grounding. That even though I thought I’d hate these people, I didn’t. It wasn’t their fault that I’d grown up without parents. It wasn’t their fault that they hadn’t come to find me. The past was the past. I was glad to be here with them now. They were good people, kind people. There was a warmth in this house. They might not have had a lot of money, they might have lived in a small flat, but they were richer than I was in all the ways that counted.
And I could feel that love towards me as well. It had nothing to do with my money, just like the feelings I got from Abby. She cared about me. She liked me for me. She stood up to me when she didn’t agree with me. I loved that she didn’t take my shit. She was special. She was the kind of woman I’d never really believed existed.
And now she was making me question everything. How could we go back to New York as boss and secretary and pretend that everything else hadn’t just happened? How could I go back and continue to live my life the way that I was? I was falling for her. Irrevocably, deeply in love. And it scared the shit out of me because I didn’t even know what love really meant.
“I think he’s gone to La La Land again,” Shamus said, laughing. “Hey, Dylan, you tired? Maybe you’re a wee bit jet-lagged?”
“Sorry. No. I’m just overcome with emotions, and thoughts, and feelings. You know?”
“Aye. I know,” he said, nodding, and he looked over to Abby. “She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”
“I wasn’t—” Out of habit, I started to deny that I’d been thinking of her and I stopped myself. “Yeah. She’s beautiful.”
“A good woman is hard to find,” he said softly. “If she’s a good one, you better keep her.”
“I think she just might well be the best one there is,” I said softly. “But we didn’t come here tonight to talk about me and my relationship.” I laughed. “Let’s get drunk and have some fun.”
“Ooh. You’re my kind of cousin, aren’t you?” He slapped me on the back. “So, you’ve got a brother as well, eh?”
“Yeah, my brother, Kent. I wish he could have been here to meet you guys as well. I think he would’ve really enjoyed it.”
“Aye, I dare say he would’ve. Part of the MacAllister clan. You know, we’ve got a tartan and everything.”
“No, really?”
“Oh, yes. Every clan in Scotland has a tartan, and we’re part of the MacAllister clan. You’ll have to get a kilt. And you’ll have to take it back to the U.S. and wear it at your wedding.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know that I’m ever going to get married. And if I did, I don’t think I’d be wearing a kilt.”
“You’ll be wearing a kilt if I have anything to say about it.” Shamus put his arm around my shoulder and started laughing. “And you know you can’t wear any boxers or briefs, you know. You have to go commando.”
“Um, okay.”
“And you flash your bum to all the ladies,” he chuckled. “You should see your face, Dylan. I’m just joking.” He paused. “Or am I?”
“I don’t really know, but I think you’re in need of a drink as well because you’re talking some craziness.”
“I’m talking some craziness, am I, because I’m a Scottish?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“I know. I’m just teasing you. You Yanks, you’ve got no sense of humor, do you?”
“I think you’ll find that I have a very good sense of humor.”
“Well, that’s good then, boy. The McAllisters are known for their great sense of humor,” he said, patting me on the shoulder again. “It’s so good to meet you, Dylan. You and Abby. Anytime you’re in Scotland, you must come and stay with us. No more hotels, you hear? Family is family. And family should stay with family. In fact, if you want to stay here tonight—”
“Oh, no. I don’t think Abby would want to stay tonight. All her clothes and makeup are in the hotel.”
“I’m sure that’s why you want to stay at the hotel,” he winked at me, “because of the clothes and the makeup, eh?”
“Well, you know,” I grinned at him.
“I know very well,” he said. “Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink. Say no more. Say no more.”
I chuckled. “I’m glad I came tonight,” I said. “I’m really glad.”
“I’m glad you came, too,” he said and handed me another beer.
I looked around the room and this time Abby was looking at me. Our eyes met, and she raised one eyebrow slightly, asking me a question without speaking. I nodded and gave her a thumbs up. She grinned and mouthed, I told you so. I shook my head at her and laughed. My beautiful, darling Abby. She knew me almost better than I knew myself.
As much as I loved meeting my cousins and getting to know them, I also couldn’t wait to get Abby alone so I could tear off her clothes. We’d stay for a couple more hours, and then I’d get her back to the hotel room as quickly as possible. I was insatiable when it came to Abby. I needed her more than anything. And I was going to tell her that. I don’t know if it was the bliss of the moment or a softening of my heart, now that I had some family in my life, but I wanted to tell her how I felt. I wanted to sing it to the world.
And that was such a strange feeling because I’d never wanted to sing, period, let alone sing my feelings and emotions to the world. Something had come over me.
I, Dylan MacAllister, was falling in love.
I wanted to tell her, and I prayed more than anything that she would feel the same way about me. I knew I’d been a jerk to her. I knew I’d said things that had hurt her. I’d been an asshole. But she’d seen that there was more to me than that. She made me believe that I could be more than the person I had been, that I could demand more from my life.
She made me believe that love existed. She made me believe that there were people out there who cared about others more than themselves. And she made me believe in fireflies in the sky, and butterflies in the heart, and happily ever afters. She was my one.
I was loath to admit it, but she was my soulmate, and I needed to let her know.
Chapter 40
Abby
* * *
“You’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road and I’ll be in Scotland before ye,” Dylan was singing as we made our way to the hotel room. He was drunker—and happier—than I’d ever seen him before.
“I never knew that song was Scottish,” I said. “I can’t believe I’m such a dunce.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t know either.” He continued singing. “Where me and my true love will never meet again, on the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.”
“Well, you certainly know the song well.” I held his hand.
I loved this side of Dylan. So open, so sweet, so caring. The way he looked at me made my heart flutter.
“You should sing it with me,” he said, as we opened the door to our hotel room and stumbled inside.
“I’m not a good singer,” I said.
“Well, if you’re half as good a singer as you are a dancer …” He grinned.
“Dylan, stop it.”
“What? I haven’t even started yet.” He licked his lips.
“Dylan McAllister, don’t be a bad boy,” I said, tapping him on the nose.
“Or what, Miss Waldron? What are you going to do? Bend me over your lap and spank me?”
“I will, you know. If you push me.”
“Ooh, are you going to be my teacher, and I’ll be a naughty boy?”
“Really, Dylan?”
He laughed. “I have never felt this light before in all my life.” He stared at me in amazement. “I’ve never been this open before either. I don’t know what they put in the scotch over here, but it’s like some sort of truth serum.”
“Then I’ll have to buy bottles and bottles of it,” I grinned, “and take it home to America so I can always keep you honest with your feelings.”
“Don’t you dare. Let’s dance instead.” He pulled me into his arms and started humming a song I didn’t know as he serenaded me around the room.
“Dylan,” I giggled, “you’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not drunk. I’m high on life. Isn’t it amazing? Isn’t it beautiful? Aren’t my cousins wonderful? They’re fun. They’re really nice. I can’t believe I just said my cousins. My entire life I’ve gone without any family except for my brother, and now I have a family here and they’re good people.” He stared at me in amazement. “They’re good, right?”
“They’re really good.” I nodded. “They’re lovely, really lovely.”
“The McAllister clan of Scotland,” he said in a Scottish accent. “Can you believe I’m Scottish?”
“Yes.” I grinned.
“You know what Shamus said to me?”
“No, what?”
“He said that when I get married, I should wear a kilt, and nothing under the kilt, if you know what I mean?”
“Oh, really?” I started laughing. “Would you wear a kilt?”
“I don’t know. Would you let me?”
My heart stopped. What had he just said? What did he mean by that? Did he have feelings for me? Was this more than just a Scotland fling? Could he possibly care about me the way that I cared about him? I was too scared to even hope for that.
Dylan spun me in a circle then collapsed onto the bed. “Come over here, my darling,” he said.
I slipped my heels off and sat down next to him. His eyes were sparkling as he grinned up at me.
“What’s my name?”
“Dylan.”
“No. What’s my name?”
“Mr. McAllister.”
“What’s my name?”
“Dylan McAllister.”
“What’s my name?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said laughing, looking down at him.
“My name is da-da-dum … da-da-dum …” He pretended to be playing drums. Just how drunk was he?
