Junkyard Dog (5 page)

D
uring my usual Saturday routine, I pass the office
and think of Candy inside cleaning. She warned me not to visit since Honey and
her kids would be running around. The thought of six children making a shitload
of noise and stinking up the place fucking horrifies me. On the other hand, I
can’t deal with going two days without seeing her. Candy’s crawled under my
skin, and I can’t dig her out. Worse is how I’m not even sure I want to.

Country music plays in the office when I walk
through the front door with Nightmare at my side. The dog bolts inside and
begins smelling the strangers. His nose makes a beeline for Honey Mayer’s
crotch. I assume she’s on the rag.

While Honey freezes in terror, Candy’s back remains
to the door. Shaking her ass to the song, she’s unaware of my presence. I admire
the sweet curves of her wiggling butt in a pair of khaki shorts. Before my dick
can spring loose from my pants, she turns around.

“Hey, it’s the boss man!” she cries, walking over
to where Nightmare now stares at Honey. “Can I pet your tiny horse?”

Candy kneels down and strokes Nightmare, who
remains wary. The dog doesn’t know what he’s missing.

“How much have you gotten done?” I ask.

“Three boxes and dusting. Are you checking up on
me?”

“Yes.”

Smiling, Candy stops petting the dog and glances at
her nervous sister. Despite sharing long, blonde hair and big, dark eyes, the sisters
are polar opposites personality-wise. In fact, when Nightmare shoves his nose
in Candy’s crotch, she looks unfazed while pushing him away.

“Tell your dog he needs to buy me dinner before he
sniffs there.”

Grinning, I force my gaze away from her and check out
my meeting room full of kids. The smaller blond ones are watching cartoons on a
tablet. Candy’s two sit in a corner playing something on their mom’s phone.

“Don’t let them stink up the place,” I mutter.

“Yeah, we don’t want to distract from the cigar smell.”

“Funny,” I grunt before snapping for Nightmare to
follow me.

For a few hours, I pretend to work, but I’m mostly
interested in seeing Candy. I often check on the women. Honey cleans while
Candy goes through each box and sings along with songs. I suspect she knows her
singing voice is terrible, making her confidence more appealing.

Eventually, Candy tells the kids to clean up and
get ready to go. Before she leaves, she appears at my office door.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Candy grins, but I don’t know why. She’s in a good
mood, and smiles come easily when she’s happy. I’ve seen her in a bad mood too,
and she does very little to hide negative emotions.

“I’ll work on the mess during the week and see
about coming back next weekend.”

“Fine.”

“It’s the kids, isn’t it?” she asks, leaning
against the door frame. “You love children so much and seeing them makes your
ovaries quiver.”

“Goodbye,” I say, despite my smirk.

“See you Monday.”

I only nod and watch her disappear from my doorway.
The kids make a racket on their way out of the office and then the place falls
silent. I look at Nightmare, who doesn’t care either way. I’m the only person
who has ever interested him, and he’s too old to give a shit now.

“What now?” I ask the dog.

Nightmare walks into the main office and sniffs
everything anyone new touched. He’s pissed about the new stink. Watching him, I
realize the feeling I’m nursing isn’t fucking boredom. For the first time in
years, I’m lonely and all because of a mouthy blonde with a horrible singing voice.

B
etween moving into the house and cleaning the
office, I’m exhausted from organizing crap. At least at the house, I’m working
with a blank slate. The office is a frigging mess. I have to check every slip
of paper in every box. I’ve counted at least thirty boxes, but I know more are
hidden behind the main stack. Half of what’s in the boxes is trash, and the
half are business papers dating back a decade. I can’t believe Hayes is so
successful with such a train wreck system.

“How do you function?” I ask Hayes when he appears
from his office.

I notice he comes out every hour or so to check on
me. I don’t mind since it saves me from checking on him. We’ve been playing
this peeking game since the weekend.

“I have a company that deals with payroll and the
financial crap. These are my personal copies.”

“Why is it such a mess?”

Hayes crosses his arms and leans against a desk
hiding under boxes. “Years ago, I had a real assistant. Tammie was a good
woman, but her back went out, and she got behind on shit. Then she started
calling in sick a lot, and the temps didn’t know what the fuck they were doing.
Once she went on disability, I was stuck with morons. This is the result.”

“Is Tammie still alive?”

“She moved to Florida to be closer to her
grandchildren.”

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

Suspecting he’s lying, I smile at his bravado.
“Will you miss me when I move to Florida to be closer to my grandchildren?”

Hayes shrugs. “You’re not horrible at your job so
far. Too mouthy, but most women are.”

“So you’ll miss me then?”

“You have your skills.”

“Can you be more specific about my qualities? I’m
feeling insecure.”

Hayes rolls his eyes, but I catch him smile. “I’ve
been thinking.”

“I’m sure you have. A big businessman like you
probably thinks all the time.”

“I’ve been thinking about having an heir.”

“An air?”

“An heir like a kid that’d inherit my business.”

“Oh. Yeah, you wouldn’t want it to end up in the
hands of the government.”

“I’d rather burn everything down than have that
happen.”

Grinning at his reaction, I nod. “I’m sure you’d
make a great dad.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No, but you’re smart. You might learn how to be a
great dad by the time the kid is old enough to notice.”

“You’re healthy, right?”

“Healthy like I eat salads?”

“No, like you’re capable of creating and carrying a
baby.”

“Sure,” I mumble, unsure where he’s going with this
line of questions.

“You didn’t break anything having those twins?”

“You mean my beloved children? No, I didn’t break
anything. What are you getting at?”

“I’ll need to breed with a woman capable of
carrying my large kid. You carried two at once so I figure you’ll do.”

“Well, that’s a tempting offer. Whenever you’re
ready, just fill a cup with your swimmers, and I’ll pick up a turkey baster on
my drive home. We’ll make you an heir.”

“There are easier ways to make a kid.”

“Easier?” I say, looking him over. “I’d say a
turkey baster is simpler than climbing you, boss.”

“No climbing necessary,” he says, and I realize he
might actually be serious. “You lay on the bed, and I’ll do the work. I’ve
heard women make boys if they get fucked in the missionary position.”

“You heard that, huh? Where?”

“Donna was telling some broad at the Waffle House.”

“Well if Donna said so, I can’t really disagree.
She’s the Google of diner waitresses.”

I snicker at my joke while Hayes just watches me.

“I’m not kidding.”

“I sense that,” I say, feeling a little overheated.
“What would you name our giant baby? It wouldn’t be something stupid like
Angus, would it?”

“Said the lady with the stripper name.”

“I didn’t pick my name.”

“You picked your kids’ stupid names.”

“No, their father did, and he only picked them to
punish me.”

“Punish you for what?”

“For not having an abortion. He didn’t want kids.
He nagged me constantly until I was ready to pop. When I wouldn’t give into his
whiny bullshit, he chose the names,” I explain with a hint of anger and then
add more casually, “The joke was on him because my kids are cool enough to walk
off silly names. I’m not sure our giant baby would be, though.”

“My kid won’t give a shit what anyone thinks.”

“Or he’ll be very sensitive and cry easily. You
never know.”

“I know,” Hayes insists.

“So you’re saying you’d name him something dumb
like the dad in the song
A Boy Named
Sue
?”

“I’d name him something strong.”

“Like Bullet?” I ask, snickering again. “Shotgun
maybe?”

“Buckaroo Banzai actually.”

“It has a nice ring to it.”

Hayes frowns. “It’s a movie title. You know that,
right?”

“I don’t watch movies.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine, Marvel and Pixar movies. That Banzai thing
isn’t one of those, so it doesn’t exist to me.”

Hayes crosses his arms and glares super ugly at me.
I love when he does that shit. He’s especially hot when he tries to intimidate
me. I especially like how his lips get pouty like a really grumpy baby. I smile
at his expression and wonder if he’s messing with me with all of this heir
talk.

“Not everything is a fucking joke,” he grumbles
when I don’t stop smiling at him.

“See this from my point of view, boss. You always
seem full of shit. How can I tell when you’re not?”

“Pay attention.”

“Or you could talk differently when you’re not full
of shit,” I suggest.

“No.”

“Have you interviewed any other wide-hipped women
for this great heir-making opportunity?”

Hayes gives me his junkyard dog expression, and I
should
be scared. He’s a scary guy, but he won’t do anything besides yell at me. When
I think of all the effort he goes through to terrify me, I begin laughing.

“Idiot,” he grumbles, walking back to his office.

“I’ll think about it. I mean, giant babies are a
lot of responsibility.”

I see him shake his head in irritation, but I can’t
believe he actually thought I’d agree.

Leaning back in my chair, I consider breeding with
another rich guy. With Toby, I felt no emotional connection to my baby daddy.
It’s why his nagging about an abortion never affected me. He could have said
anything, and I wouldn’t falter. He was simply a means to an end.
Of course,
Hayes isn’t Toby.

O
n the kids’ first day of school, I’m a basket case
of mommy's nerves. I walk them to their separate third-grade classes and admit
they won’t have fun today. No doubt Cricket will spend the day comparing
everything to her old class while Chipper will disappear into the crowd.
They’ll meet up at recess and recharge their twin powers. I promise to take
them out to dinner and let them complain about everything they hated.

By the time I reach the office, I want to cry. It’s
a mommy reaction. I know they’ll be fine, but I feel guilty for giving them a
bad day. It’s my job to hurt for my babies, and I see no reason to deny the
feeling.

“What’s your problem?” Hayes asks, walking out of
his office when I arrive.

“My babies started school today.”

“You should homeschool them,” he says casually.
“Schools today are failures.”

“You told me to put them in school so they wouldn’t
become morons,” I mutter.

“Well, that was before you started moping around
the office.”

“How can I homeschool when I’m working? Also, how
in the hell does someone homeschool?”

“I don’t know. Google it.”

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“I wasn’t trying,” he says, smirking. “I could hug
you, but I can’t imagine that would do anything except get you moist.”

“You’re in a weird mood today.”

“Not really. I have been thinking, though.”

“About what?” I ask, walking into the mini-kitchen
to get myself a cup of coffee.

“I want to trust you with more responsibilities.”

“Okay, but these new responsibilities aren’t gross,
are they?” I ask, thinking about his heir offer.

“No, but they involve me trusting you. Can I?
You’re not bailing on this job if I don’t baby you during your next period, are
you?”

“I’m on my period now, and I don’t want you babying
me,” I lie while returning to my desk. “Staying away from me would be helpful,
though.”

“No alone time today, babe. In fact, don’t waste
time logging in. We’re running errands today.”

I study him and find my smile. He’s in a good mood
and the damn thing’s infectious.

Once outside, Hayes helps me climb into his giant
truck by grabbing my ass and pushing up. I grunt at his version of chivalry. At
least, I was smart enough to wear jeans today, so his hand doesn’t encounter a
warm greeting from the spot between my legs.

“Where are we going?” I ask as soon as he pulls out
of the parking lot.

“My father has caregivers who handle him and his
house, but I need you to check up on them. You need to make sure they’re
keeping the place clean, feeding his cat, and giving him meds and food.”

“Are you overly cautious or is there something
you’re specifically concerned about?”

“Overly cautious,” he says, honking at a car full
of senior citizens. “Balthazar has a full-time caregiver named Lizzy Anne.
There’s also a nurse who visits once a week to make sure he’s getting his meds.
The setup is solid, but I don’t trust anyone.”

When I smile at him, Hayes’s expression shifts into
a grumpy frown. He knows I think he’s a big softie.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“You love your daddy,” I tease.

“Didn’t you?”

“No. He didn’t stick around long enough. When I
last saw him, I was living at the Eddison Estate. He showed up wanting money
for his girlfriend’s kid’s braces. I called him by the wrong name and shut the
door. He hasn’t bothered me since.”

Hayes nods, remaining silent for a few minutes. “Do
you like men?”

“Sexually? Yeah.”

“No, I mean, do you think they’re all fucking
scum?”

“Of course not. My son is a little man after all. I
adored my brother Peat. So I like men just fine. Why?”

“Didn’t know if you were the bitter sort.”

“Is this because I haven’t batted my eyes at you
today?”

“I’ll be happy if you avoid fucking crying.”

Grinning, I check my phone. “Your low standards
allow me to excel.”

“I think you’d do fine if I expected more.”

I focus on him and grin. “You complimented me! Were
you drugged this morning? Why are you such a sweetie pie today?”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

“Did it hurt?” I ask.

“What?”

“When you fell from heaven?” I ask, barely keeping
a straight face. “You’re a damn angel; I tell ya!”

“I’m seriously fucking considering firing you.”

I pat his arm reassuringly, causing him to glance
at me as if I’ve harmed him in some way.

“What?”

Hayes shakes his head, still looking freaked out. I
study my fingers and wonder what unknown powers they possess.

We arrive at a blue, craftsman style home on the
east side of White Horse. The small lawn is immaculate, and the house looks
recently painted.

I climb down from the massive truck and walk to the
front porch where a rocking bench rests.

“Here are they keys,” Hayes says, handing them to
me. “I’ll email you the security code later.”

“What’s your dad’s name again?”

“Balthazar.”

“Your name makes a lot more sense.”

“Shut up, Candy.”

“You’re so childish,” I tease while following him
into the house.

Hayes wants to say something mean, but he keeps his
mouth shut and walks down a narrow hallway to a back family room. I’m so busy
wondering if he’ll whack his head on the ceiling that I don’t notice the bald
old man sleeping in a wide La-Z-Boy chair.

Hayes walks into the adjoining kitchen and ducks to
avoid a beam. I hear the caretaker going over Balthazar’s day. The old man ate
eggs and oatmeal for breakfast, walked around the yard, and then took his nap
in the front of the TV. Hayes looms large over the short, round woman who
glances at me.

“My assistant will come by when I can’t,” Hayes
says quietly, but his voice remains loud enough to wake Balthazar.

“Gussy,” he mumbles, petting the white cat on his
lap. “Who’s the broad?”

“This is my assistant, Candy,” Hayes tells him. “I
told you about her.”

“Yeah,” Balthazar says. “She’s a looker.”

“Yeah. She’ll come by and check on you when I’m
busy.”

“Pawning me off on others again, huh, son?”

“Save the guilt, old man. I’m not interested.”

Balthazar smiles. “You woke me from my nap. Never
could whisper.”

Hayes stretches, scraping his hands on the ceiling.

“Don’t break my shit, boy.”

“Well, this was fun.”

I look at the two men and enjoy their bickering.
Hayes notices me smiling and shakes his head.

“Don’t.”

“What’s your cat’s name?” I ask Balthazar.

“Gladys the Cat.”

Hayes says, “My mother’s name was Gladys.”

“I didn’t want to learn a new name,” Balthazar
explains.

The two men don’t share a single physical
resemblance. Hayes is larger than life; Balthazar is tiny. My boss has an olive
tint to his skin while his father looks like he’ll burst into flames if in the
sun for too long. Hayes has darker than sin eyes; Balthazar possesses sparkling
blue ones. Clearly, Gussy didn’t gain anything genetic from his old man.

I feel Hayes wanting to leave already. He doesn’t
have to say anything or even gesture for me to get moving. I simply feel his
tension amp up. We’re in sync already, and I can usually tell when he wants
fresh coffee before he yells for a refill.

Now Hayes wants to leave. I don’t know if he’s
worried I’ll embarrass him with his dad or if his father will be the one to do
the embarrassing. I just know Hayes wants to get the hell out of the house.

I wave goodbye to Balthazar, who watches me while
petting his cat. Hayes is already at his truck by the time I reach the porch.

“What’s the hurry?”

“He needs his nap.”

“He seems nice.”

“He is.”

Hayes climbs into his truck and then leans over to
help pull me into the passenger seat.

“Are you embarrassed by me?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I grin at him. “You don’t look like your dad.”

“Don’t start shit with me, Candy.”

“Ah, the answers are falling into place,” I say,
buckling myself into the seat. “What next?”

“I need to run by a few sites, and then we’ll go to
lunch.”

“Is this the house you grew up in?”

“Yes.”

I look back at the house shrinking into the
distance. “You must have ducked a lot.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can we listen to music then?” I ask, already
reaching for the radio buttons.

Hayes says nothing while I flip around until
finding a song from George Strait.

After finishing at one construction site, we return
to the truck.

“I’ll keep an eye out on your dad,” I promise.

“I know. You’re good at your job.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“He’s getting old, and he’ll die one day, and that
makes me sad.”

“Wait, so this is what you’re like when emotional?
Huh, it’s similar to a sad robot, I guess.”

“Don’t make me tell you to shut up again.”

“I never actually shut up when you say that. Not
sure why you waste your time.”

Hayes smiles slightly and then honks at another car
full of old ladies.

“Morons,” he grumbles.

“They’re old.”

“So they shouldn’t drive. I took away my dad’s
license when he got dangerous.”

“You take good care of him. It makes me respect you
more to see that side of you.”

“Don’t care.”

“I bet you do. In fact, I bet my compliment made
you blush on the inside.”

Rolling his eyes, Hayes asks, “How is the rental
place?”

“It’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Do the kids like having their own rooms?”

“Yeah, but they still share a bed. It’s habit.”

“Weak.”

“Said the man who nearly cried while visiting his
dad.”

Hayes glares at me, but his evil expression only
makes me laugh. He’s so sexy when he throws a fit.

“The kids want a pet. I’m leaning toward getting a
goldfish, but they’re set on a cat.”

“Goldfish?” he asks, grinning. “You’re so fucking
lazy.”

“True, but pets take a lot of effort.”

“Not really.”

“You say that because someone else takes Nightmare
to the vet and for walks. You’re fucking lazy too, boss.”

“Yeah, but I’m not goldfish lazy.”

“Whatever. They want a cat, and if they keep asking
for long enough, I’ll take them to the shelter to find one.”

“Don’t get a shitty shelter cat.”

“Where else am I going to get a cat? Please don’t
say pet store because that’s just stupid.”

“No. There’s always some family with kittens for
sale for ten bucks.”

“I’d rather get a shelter cat. Adopting one from a
kill shelter will feed my savior complex. I’ll feel like a humanitarian for
doing nearly nothing.”

“Aiming low is why you’re a happy person.”

“Where are we going to lunch and are you paying?
I’d be super happy if you let me get appetizers and dessert so that I can take
home leftovers.”

“Your dreams are now too fucking low.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ with regards to you paying?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay so you can burrow away old food
like a fucking squirrel.”

I smile at him and reach over to fix his flannel
shirt cover. Hayes stiffens when I touch him, and my smile grows wider.

“I knew you were trouble the moment you walked into
my office,” he says.

Leaning against the door, I stare out the window
and think about the first day we met. I was ready for a raging beast and likely
built him up too much in my head. The real Hayes disappointed. He wasn’t nearly
as scary as I imagined and a hell of a lot easier on the eyes.

After seeing him with his dad in that too small
house, I can’t help wondering what else Hayes hides from people.

“Stop thinking,” he grunts while pulling the truck
into a steak house parking lot. “I can feel you plotting.”

“I’m not doing anything, boss.”

Hayes frowns at me, but he isn’t in a bad mood.
With his nearly black eyes, he convinces people he’s always pissed. I’ve
figured out how to tell the various shades of grumpy in his dark gaze.