Touch Me, Daddy

BOOK TWO: BACKSHOTS FROM THE BOSS.

Working for hotshot billionaire boss Stefan Rodriguez for the past four years for Sadie Evans has been hell.

He complains about his coffee not being made properly. The files not arranged accordingly even though it's just one out of place. His schedule cramped, and his chair not feeling right.

Sadie has tried everything to foster a healthy working relationship with Stefan, but it just doesn't work. He simply loathes her. And there's nothing one can do to change a dedicated grump.

Sure as hell that Stefan wants her gone, she tenders her resignation letter.

And watches in shock as Stefan loses his goddamn mind.

Stefan Rodriguez has been madly in love with Sadie ever since she walked into his office for an interview four years ago. It has been four years of pretense and being an insufferable jerk to hide his attraction for her. When she hands in a resignation letter, he freaks out but understands.

He's f****d things up, but there must be another chance.

Sadie is his, and that's final.

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1 - Sadie.

"Sadie Evans!"

My ever-grumpy boss's witch-like yell startles me. I stand, sigh, my heart already beating fast as I hurry into his office. "Sir?"

He lets go of the pen he's holding, pushes back from the desk and glares at me. I almost melt. "What did I tell you to do every morning?"

I scratch my temple instinctively, my mind a rumble of thoughts. Stefan has told me to many things every morning. Wait at the company's entrance to take his suitcase, bring him coffee - plain, black and hot at exactly 9AM. Take his suit jacket to the dry cleaners and get it back before he leaves for home.

But this morning...with the way he's glaring daggers at me...

Exasperated, I say. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"What are you sorry for?" he barks.

"I...I don't know..."

He tilts his head to the side, the glint in his eyes dangerous. "You don't know? Then maybe you shouldn't be working for me. Please resend that last email from Miss Grenada. I need to know when best to schedule an appointment with her this coming week."

"Okay, Sir."

As I leave his office, my chest feels heavy. His words are like a dagger driven into my chest every time. Every day. For the past three years, the influence of his words and actions on my emotions have been so strong, never waning, never changing.

It's not healthy, and quitting this job is a last resort. Just to be clear. I don't take the amazing pay or the generous benefits for granted, and I know the people can't possibly be any nicer at my next office. Rodriguez Enterprises is a like a fever dream for so many people.

But I can't stand it any longer. I can't keep on torturing myself this way.

I'm weak, okay?

If I spend another year in love with Stefan here, pining after him while he barely tolerates my presence, I'll go mad.

My fingers tremble as I fold my resignation letter. The paper is still warm from the printer. I had printed it impulsively, just minutes before he came in. I wish I didn't have to turn it in. I wish so much that things are different.

But they're not. I can't keep deceiving myself any much longer.

Heartbeat thumping in my ears, I slide the letter inside a snowy white envelope.

You'll be fine, Sadie. Very fine.

I'm not tucking my bleeding heart away in this envelope. Not losing a piece of myself. That's ridiculous.

When Stefan Rodriguez bellows for me from inside his office again a little after noon, that thunderous voice rattling the walls, I jump up with a squeak, my cheeks flaming. Like I'm doing something wrong out here, something sneaky.

"Sadie? Sadie! Get in here."

Seriously, why do I even love this man? He's such an ogre sometimes. Huffing out a breath, I snatch up the envelope and edge around my desk, mentally rehearsing the moment how I'll give it to him.

I can just place it on his desk and run away. Or sneak it in his important files.

But that would be me being a coward now, wouldn't it? I don't care. I have to do this for myself. For my mental health.

Tugging my purple dress straight and firming my shoulders, I rap on the boss's door.

"Come in," he rumbles, and I swear I want to kick myself but the vibrations from his voice tingle through my feet. My palm is sweaty on the door handle, but I fumble it open and slip inside. "Sir?"

Stefan watches me from beneath lowered eyebrows; face twisted into a scowl.

I don't think he's ever smiled at me.

"Everything ready for tonight?"

"Yes! Everything's ready. The caterers and the band will set up this afternoon."

He grunts. "Tonight needs to go well, Sadie." Stefan rubs his jaw, glowering out of the window. "I'm not throwing another f*****g party. This is it. Make it count."

"Roger that."

As if I would dare joke with this event! The Rodriguez Enterprises ten-year anniversary party has haunted my freaking dreams for months. More than once, I've woken up sweating in the night, reciting guest lists and drink options. I've been on it. This event is my masterpiece.

But Stefan doesn't care about that. He seems crankier than usual today, slumped in his chair and tugging on his collar, so his scheduling plans with Miss Grenada must not have gone well. Miss Grenada is known to be way more uptight than him, and as one of our top investors, her words are law.

And I can tell what Stefan hates most in this world is to be told what to do. The way his shoulders bunch up is always a dead giveaway. I can read this man's moods like a weather report.

This is bad timing. He's unsettled already.

But I must do this. I must!

"What's that?" Stefan is rubbing his forehead, likely trying to stall a headache setting in. My fingers curl around the envelope. f**k. "You already brought in the mail this morning. Who's that from?"

I hand him the envelope, heart beating louder as he tears it open and reads, his scowl deepening as he reads.

Silence fills the office, swelling between us and cutting off my air supply.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Can't breathe. Can't think.

"I'll work my notice period —"

"What the f**k, Sadie?" Stefan cuts off my squeaky voice. "You're not leaving."

I ignore his words. "My new role starts on the fifteenth. If you would be willing to write me a reference before then, that would be — "

"New role?" Stefan blinks and sits up straighter. His desk chair creaks under his impressive bulk. "You have a new job lined up? This is serious?"

"Yes," I tell him gently. "I'm starting a new job on the fifteenth."

He's already shaking his dark head. "No, you're not." His big hand twitches around my letter, crumpling it into a ball. "You're not leaving, Sadie. This is not happening."

When I burst out laughing, Stefan looks at me like I've gone insane—and maybe I have. "You don't even like me, boss. And you said I shouldn't be working for you this morning."

He blanches, shaking his head. "I...I..."

And I wait for the words to come—any words, anything nice at all, because if Stefan asks me in this moment to stay, if he says he actually likes me, I'll do it. I'll cave.

But he gives me nothing. Nothing but silence.

The man I'm desperately in love with can't even deny that he finds me annoying.

A crack splinters through my chest, pain searing my insides. See, this is why I'm leaving. It's self-preservation, that's all, because I deserve to find a man who likes me. A man who's thrilled by my bouncy attitude and who can't get enough of my chatter. Hell, even just a boss who'll tolerate my presence without scowling.

So although this hurts even worse than I thought it would, although it feels like I'm sawing off a limb, I need to stay strong. Need to hold out for something healthier. Something sweet.

For starters: a man who sees me as more than a planner on legs. An annoying planner at that.

"You let me handle tonight's party." If we didn't have this giant desk between us, I'd pat Stefan's shoulder. He looks shell-shocked. "You focus on that reference, okay? And I'll set up interviews for my replacement. Don't worry, I know your wish list by now: someone who won't speak unless they're spoken to, and who doesn't believe in Flapjack Fridays."

"Sadie," Stefan says.

"And I know you hate interviewing, but I promise this will all be over in no time. The fifteenth will come so fast and then you'll forget I was ever here, I swear! This transition will happen in a blur."

"Sadie." The boss sprawls back in his chair, breathing hard, face chalky pale. He looks ill. Does he really hate change that much? He coped okay when we repainted the lobby. "I mean it," he says. "You can't leave."

"This is happening," I say, and if my voice is shaky as hell... it still counts as a victory. I'm standing my ground. I'm protecting my wrung-out heart. "I'm sorry, but it's not open for discussion. Some things aren't."

And it's not the best parting shot, but I turn on my heel anyway — because one more minute in this room will make me fray into a thousand pieces.