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Falling for Her Boss. Bonnie K. WinnЧитать онлайн книгу.

Falling for Her Boss - Bonnie K. Winn


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of fish. Local catfish, Alvin had informed her.

      “Store-bought rolls,” Dorothy muttered. “Means I’m getting old. Never used to buy them, always made my own.”

      “I like bakeries,” Tessa confessed. She used to love buying pastries on weekend mornings to share with Karl. Seemed ridiculous that she had believed all was fine in those days.

      Alvin dried his hands. “Dorothy makes the best bread in the county. Won the blue ribbon for that and her cinnamon rolls five years straight at the county fair. But the town bakery’s okay. They bake fresh every day.”

      Dorothy looked a tad embarrassed at the praise. “Poppy likes their cookies. They make all kinds of fancy cartoon shapes.”

      “But Dorothy’s taste goodest,” Poppy declared. “And she lets me help.”

      “You’re probably the best part,” Tessa told her as they shared a smile.

      The back door opened and they all turned toward it. Morgan entered, his unguarded face weary.

      “Daddy!” Poppy exclaimed happily.

      For a moment pure love eclipsed the fatigue in Morgan’s face. “Hey, you.”

      Hopping down, she ran to him, visibly delighted when he swept her up and nuzzled her cheek. “How’s my girl?”

      “Hungry,” she replied cheerfully. Then she leaned even closer. “And we’re having pudding,” she added in a loud whisper.

      He pretended delighted surprise. “But what will we have for dessert?”

      “Oh, Daddy!” She giggled and he swung her up again.

      Morgan looked reluctant when he set her back down.

      But Poppy immediately tugged at his hand, chasing away any possibility of escape. “You have to sit by me.”

      Just then he looked up, seeming to notice Tessa for the first time. Unconsciously she straightened, then smiled tentatively.

      His gaze gave nothing away and she couldn’t tell if he was displeased by her presence. No one had mentioned whether she would be taking her lunches with the family. Dorothy had insisted the first day and she had continued coming to the kitchen for lunch, but now Tessa wondered if she was intruding. Standing, she pushed back her chair.

      “Where are you going?” Morgan asked.

      “Well, you’re here now and I know Poppy wants to sit with you and—”

      “There’s plenty of room and from what I hear, plenty of pudding.” He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a plate. Dorothy had already collected another setting of silverware.

      “You can sit by Daddy, too,” Poppy informed her. “I get to sit on this side.” The child indicated her favorite spot.

      Tessa felt like the last pickling cucumber being shoved into an overstuffed jar. Not that the table was small, but it had already been set up to serve four. An extra setting put it out of balance. The thought barely formed when Poppy tugged Morgan to the middle seat between herself and Tessa.

      Proximity immediately changed. Tiny Poppy hadn’t taken up much space in her chair. But Morgan, tall with broad shoulders, filled the area. Tessa hugged her elbows to her sides, trying to minimize contact. Instead of making her less visible, her tactic caused Morgan to glance her way. Feeling like a fool, she straightened again, accidentally brushing her arm against his. Startled, she almost withdrew, reconsidered and tried to look unaffected. Glancing across the table at Dorothy and Alvin, Tessa immediately saw from their expressions that she had failed miserably.

      “Pudding?” Morgan asked, extending the salad bowl. He leaned close, his voice low. “Poppy has decreed all courses include pudding.”

      “I...I love pudding.” Tessa sought to make her voice sound bright as she reached for the tongs.

      He looked at the tiny serving she scooped out and frowned. “Not your favorite flavor?”

      “I want to save room for all the courses,” she improvised, knowing she wouldn’t finish even the small amount of food she would put on her plate.

      To her relief, Morgan didn’t pursue it, instead turning to his daughter. “Extra olives?”

      “Yes, please.”

      He carefully plucked a generous helping of black olives from the bowl along with a portion of the greens and tomatoes. Tessa guessed Dorothy had loaded the salad with Poppy’s favorites.

      She wasn’t sure how or why, but Morgan’s presence had changed the entire dynamic of their little gathering. Poppy was aglow, her connection to Morgan deep and visible. Alvin and Dorothy seemed more content somehow. And she...she wasn’t sure what she was. It was no longer easy and light. Tessa realized she was being silly, that she had eaten more business lunches with employers than she could count. No need to be nervous.

      “Daddy, you promised to take me to ride Cornflake,” Poppy pleaded.

      Morgan paused, his fork midair. “Today?”

      The child’s head bobbed up and down as though attached to a string.

      Tessa was tempted to offer to cover for him for the afternoon if he needed the time with his daughter, but she wasn’t sure how the gesture would be taken. And, in truth, she didn’t know enough about Harper Petroleum to cover for him.

      Morgan glanced her way. “Cornflake is Poppy’s pony.”

      “Ah,” she replied, picturing the cute child on an equally cute pony.

      “All work and no play,” Dorothy mused, passing the platter of fish.

      The forces had gathered. Graciously, Morgan bowed to them. “After lunch. That doesn’t mean we skip the fish, either.”

      Poppy’s face crinkled, her plan apparently quashed.

      Tessa couldn’t suppress her own smile as she imagined Poppy bolting her pudding, then tearing upstairs to change into riding gear.

      Morgan caught her eye, apparently interpreting her smile. “Experience,” he explained succinctly.

      Poppy practically danced in her chair as she gobbled down her lunch. Tessa wondered if their outings were that rare or if she was just excited. A glance that morning at the company’s structural chart had indicated that Morgan carried the bulk of the executive load. There wasn’t a tier of vice presidents to allocate the work to. Despite having help at home, he was a single parent. One she guessed spent a great deal of time working if what she’d seen so far was any indication.

      In record time, Poppy finished her lunch. “May I be excused?” she asked breathlessly, already sliding off her chair.

      “Yes.”

      Grabbing her stuffed dog, the child ran from the room, her shoes clattering as she crossed the entry hall and reached the staircase.

      Morgan pulled out his cell phone, checked his missed calls, then sighed.

      “Anything I can do to help?” Tessa questioned, now that Poppy was gone.

      He shook his head. “Even if you’d been here long enough to know these people, they’re calls I have to deal with myself.”

      “Don’t you have another executive who can handle some of your duties?” she questioned, hoping she wasn’t crossing a line.

      “No.”

      “And he should,” Dorothy chimed in, tipping the pitcher, refilling glasses.

      Morgan shot the housekeeper a look that might scorch the skin off some, but she remained unperturbed. He laid his napkin on the table. “I’m going to change. Tessa, I assume you noticed that the calls are rerouted today. When I get back from the ride, we can go over the state reports.”

      She nodded. “I hope you and Poppy have a good time.”


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