Chapter 21
Ruth
“Good morning.” I smile at Ray, giving him a wave as I pass the security desk situated in the center of the foyer at McKinley Security Systems.
“Good morning, Miss Wagner.” He winks at Birdie. “And, little Miss Wagner.”
Ray is one of my favorite people here. He’s old enough to be my dad. Loves his family. And has the most positive disposition.
He also always has a treat for Birdie, which makes him one of her favorite people too.
As he does every morning when we come in, Ray digs into one pocket, pulling out a surprise for my daughter. Today, it’s a tiny, plush otter that fits perfectly in my daughter’s little hands. She grabs it away eagerly, squealing with excitement over her newest acquisition.
I smile almost as big as the security guard does at her adorable reaction. “Do you have any grandkids, Ray?”
We’ve talked about his wife and his kids, and all the fun he had when they were growing up, but we’ve never discussed whether or not he’s a granddad. I really hope so, because he is clearly made for the job.
“Not yet.” His attention stays on Birdie. “I guess I’ll just have to keep practicing on your little one.”
Birdie gives him a smile so wide her chubby cheeks nearly pinch both eyes closed.
Tucker chuckles beside me. “I don’t think she’s going to fight you on that.”
I won’t either. There are so many things I feel guilty about where my daughter is concerned, and her lack of grandparents is absolutely one of them.
I might not have had a father in my life, but my mother’s parents were actively involved right up until they passed away when I was in high school.
Birdie isn’t going to have a dad or grandparents.
She’s literally only got me. So if Ray wants to spoil her while we’re here, I’m certainly not going to stop him.
Tucker spends a few minutes checking in with the in-house team as well as the group sent here from Alaskan Security, and then we’re finally on our way to his office. We’ve barely reached the edge of the large lobby when Trevor’s voice carries through the space.
It’s loud enough practically everyone within earshot turns to where he stands with his phone pressed against one year. I don’t know who he’s screaming at, but he should probably stop. I’ve never successfully gotten anything I wanted by raising my voice at someone.
“What is he upset about already?” Birdie starts wiggling in my grip, so I set her on the floor at my feet. “The day just started.”
“There’s no telling. He gets upset about everything.” Tucker adjusts the diaper bag hooked over his shoulder so he can hold one hand out for Birdie. “I hope to God he finds a new assistant soon. Before he ends up having a coronary.”
“I can’t imagine it would be hard for him to find an assistant.” I know Tucker joked about it not being worth the money, but I bet people are clamoring to get their foot in the door here.
I regularly have lunch with Maren and Brooke, and they weren’t shy about sharing the many perks the brothers offer their employees.
Everything from matching 401(k)s to fully paid health benefits and well-stocked break rooms. Everyone even gets three weeks paid vacation from their first day on the job.
It’s a fantastic package, and I’m shocked Trevor doesn’t have a line of people fighting for the position.
Even with all the yelling.
Tucker snorts. “Oh he can find an assistant.” He gives me a lopsided grin. “He just can’t keep one.”
I narrow my eyes at Tucker’s older brother as he snarls into his cell phone, giving whoever’s on the other end an earful. And I feel bad for them. I doubt they did anything so wrong to deserve his wrath at eight in the morning.
Spinning on one heel, I march to where Trevor is still ranting. His eyes have barely come my way before I’m snatching his phone away and ending the call.
Trevor stares at me, sputtering. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Keeping my voice calm, I meet his outraged gaze. “Your phone lost service, so why don’t you take this time to compose yourself and collect your thoughts before calling whoever that was back?”
Trevor’s expression is incredulous as he makes a grab for his phone. “You can’t just do that.”
“Someone had to. Because you’re currently acting on emotion, and that isn’t going to get you anywhere.” It’s the number one rule of customer service, and what I always drilled into my team at the hotel. Staying calm but firm, I ask, “Were you yelling at someone with less power than you?”
Trevor freezes, his guilty expression telling me everything I need to know.
“And what was the point of it? Is screaming at a person who's likely making minimum wage going to achieve your goals?” I tip my head, feeling a little bit like I’m talking to a child.
“Or is it possible you would be better served staying calm while working on a solution rather than screaming out a list of everything that’s gone wrong? ”
Trevor scoffs, rocking back on his heels as he turns his face away from me. “You don’t understand. I’m trying to run a business—”
“And I have a business management degree.” I lift my brows. “Would you like to tell me again how I don’t understand?”
Trevor’s eyes swing back to where I stand, still holding his cell phone. They narrow as he looks me over assessingly. “Tucker never mentioned you have a degree in business management.”
Why would he? It’s not like we're actually together. But I can’t point that out to Trevor, so I just lift one shoulder and let it drop. “It probably never came up.”
Trevor tucks one hand into his pocket, lips pursing in thought. “You just hang out in his office all day?”
"I'm a single mother, Trevor. I don't get to just do anything."
I’ll admit I went into motherhood a little cocky. Thought my career had taught me what multitasking was.
It had not.
"Everything okay?" Tucker joins us, his arrival delayed by my daughter's little legs. He glares at his brother. "You're not being a dick, are you?"
"Not to her." He pauses before conceding, "I may have been slightly dickish to the guy at the company that collects our trash."
My jaw drops. "You were yelling at the trash company?"
Is this man insane? Everyone knows you don't piss off the people responsible for collecting your refuse. They can literally leave you standing in a pile of your own shit.
"You better call them back and kiss ass like you've never kissed ass before." I can only imagine how quickly the dumpsters get out of hand at a place like this. Between Tucker and Tobias's divisions alone, the amount of mess would be out of control quickly.
"I’ve never kissed ass before." Trevor slowly smiles, batting his lashes at me. "Maybe you could do it for me."
"She's not going to do it for—"
“Actually”—I rest one hand on Tucker's arm as I cut him off—"that's probably a good idea."
I know how to smooth this over. I've done it a million times in a million different scenarios. "I just need someone to entertain Birdie while I'm on the phone."
"Deal." Trevor scoops Birdie up, giving her a bounce and a grin.
"You wanna hang out with Uncle Trevor while your momma does him a huge favor?
" He takes the bag off Tucker's shoulder and walks away, my daughter babbling back as they carry on a conversation about silly overflowing dumpsters and ridiculous messes being left behind.
I turn to find Tucker frowning at his brother’s back.
"This won't take long. Then I'll head your way." I work to keep the excitement out of my voice. It might just be cleaning up Trevor’s mess—literally and figuratively—but I’m getting to do something besides be a mom for the first time in over a year.
Tucker's eyes peel from Trevor to rest on mine. "You know you don't have to help him, right?"
I can’t help but laugh at that, because I’m a grown woman who finally no longer feels obligated to anyone for anything.
I learned the hard way people will try to make you feel indebted to them as a means of control, and I’m done being controlled.
“I know.” My response sounds sharper than I mean it to, so I give Tucker a smile, speaking more softly when I say, “I know, but I might as well be useful while I’m here. ”
And, while I don’t feel specifically obligated, I would like to help out the family who doesn’t know how much they’re helping me.
Tucker studies me for a minute. After a few seconds, he nods. “But the minute you decide you’re done, you can walk away.”
He’s acting like Trevor is the bogeyman and I’m going to run screaming the minute he says boo. “I will.”
I don’t see that happening, though. I know Trevor isn’t the easiest going of the Bradshaw brothers, but he doesn’t scare me. Not after the men I’ve dealt with in the past.
The one I’m still dealing with.
Planting a quick kiss goodbye on Tucker’s lips—even though no one is really paying attention to us—I hustle toward Trevor’s office.
I stop right before I turn the corner, peeking over one shoulder to find Tucker still standing exactly where I left him, a strangely intense expression on his face.
I give him a little wave, then for some reason blow him a kiss.
I don’t think I’ve ever blown anyone besides my mother a kiss in my whole life, and even then it was as a kid.
“Stop being weird,” I mumble to myself as I turn away, hoping Tucker hasn’t picked up on the lingering awkwardness I feel after what happened between us last night.
And what happened between us is the other main reason I’m more than happy to help Trevor today.
If anyone can be a distraction, it’s him.
I’m kind of hoping he is as big of a pain in the ass as Tucker claims, because then I won’t spend the day replaying every second I spent beneath him on the couch in my mind.
Just every other second.
I find Trevor in his office with Birdie on his lap, the phone from his desk pinched between his shoulder and ear as he speaks to someone on the other end.
Politely.
Stepping inside the room, I wait as he promises to see the person shortly, then hangs up. His attention comes to me as he gives me a smile. “My mom’s coming to hang out with Birdie. I hope that’s okay.”
I’ve never had anyone around I trusted to watch my daughter. I interviewed babysitters while I was pregnant, but never quite found the right fit. It turned out not to matter when I got fired two days after I delivered her.
It was a punishment. A threat. A display of what could be done to me if I didn’t play by someone else’s rules.
Which was wild, because I didn’t have any intention of playing at all.
Going from being completely on my own to having no shortage of people willing to entertain my daughter so I can have time to myself? It’s definitely a welcome shift. One I’m selfishly going to take advantage of since it will be gone very soon.
“That is more than okay.” I pinch my lip between my teeth. “As long as you’re sure she doesn’t mind.” I can’t imagine Deidre Bradshaw doesn’t have better things to do than watch her son’s fake girlfriend’s daughter while said imposter calls a trash company.
Trevor laughs, the sound loud enough Birdie jumps a little. “It’s more than okay.” He turns to my daughter, speaking to her instead of me. “She is going to get a ticket on the way here because she’s so excited to play with you, and then she’s gonna make Uncle Trevor pay for it.”
Emotion tightens my chest, because that is exactly how my mother would have been.
Minus the making me pay for her ticket part of things.
She would have been the best Gram Gram ever.
Birdie would have felt her love just as much as I did, and knowing that’s never going to happen has been almost as heartbreaking as losing her was.
A woman I’ve met in passing steps into Trevor’s office, her eyes moving from him to me to Birdie before settling on the man behind the desk. She lifts a stack of files. “Where do you want me to put these?”
Trevor’s broad shoulders sag beneath the perfectly tailored lines of his suit. He sighs, the sound almost as loud as his earlier laugh. “Stack them on the desk outside.”
The woman angles a brow like she’s questioning his answer, but does as he says. I take a step back as she goes, leaning to peer out the open door at the desk in question.
“Holy shit, Trevor.”
I can’t actually see the surface of the desk. It’s covered with files. They’re piled so high it’s a miracle there hasn’t been an avalanche. I watch in trepidation as the woman attempts to find a somewhat solid foundation on which to put her stack. She finally finds one and adds her armload.
I hold my breath as she walks away, waiting for the inevitable.
Thankfully, nothing shifts, and all the files manage to hold their position. But it’s only a matter of time before one of them is bumped and the rest fall like dominoes.
I turn to Trevor, this time looking a little closer at Tucker’s older brother.
It’s easy to get caught up in his expensive and meticulously maintained appearance.
All the Bradshaw brothers are attractive, but he has a certain elevation to him.
Where Tucker’s hair is loose and wavy with no real styling to speak of, Trevor’s is combed to perfection.
The rest of the brothers wear mostly jeans and T-shirts, but he’s always in a suit.
One that is most definitely custom. Possibly even bespoke.
Even his office is fancier than everyone else’s.
Tucker’s is nicer, in my opinion—comfortable and almost homey—but there’s not a doubt in my mind Trevor’s cost more money.
He has similar built-ins to Tucker, but instead of an oversized leather sofa to relax on, he has beautifully upholstered armchairs and a coordinating settee.
I can only imagine what the guy's house looks like. And the coronary he would have if Birdie exploded an applesauce pouch inside of it.
But while Trevor is definitely just as attractive as his brothers—as well as impeccably dressed—he looks tired.
There are lines around his eyes and a grim pinch to his mouth I hadn’t noticed until now.
I don’t know what’s caused it, but I would assume struggling to find an assistant certainly isn’t helping things.
And it makes me decide to take pity on him.
With a resigned sigh, I turn to the mountainous desk. “Where do these files go?”