Page 13 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

When Christian slunk into the conference room at work almost an hour later, his team’s morning meeting was already in full swing. Jim scowled at him from the front of the room.

“You’re late,” he snapped. Several of the team swiveled to look at Christian as he headed for the only empty seat at the large oblong table.

“Sorry, sir. Rough morning.” Christian sat down next to Pamela, who worked in the cubicle next to him. She offered him a commiserating smile, her gray eyes full of pity. She’d been the target of Jim’s demonstrative unhappiness. They’d all been targets at one time or another.

His excuse only made the vein in Jim’s forehead stick out more.

And red splotches broke out over his shiny round head as he launched into the lecture he gave at almost every team meeting.

“Your family crises aren’t my concern. That goes for all of you.

Deal with your problems on your own time, not during working hours.

You are easily replaceable, and your role in this company is dependent on you being here. ”

Yeah, he really inspired team morale.

“Christian,” he continued, looking down at the piece of paper on the table in front of him. “You’re on debugging duty today. I’ll send you the list of clients’ sites.”

Christian nearly groaned. Debugging was Jim’s favorite form of punishment whenever someone wasn’t following his expectations with exactness.

Probably because he knew everyone hated it.

Who would enjoy going through the list of client websites to identify and eliminate all the reasons that could’ve crashed their systems?

And on top of all the other tasks Christian had on his plate ?

Yeah, this day was going to be rough, and it wasn’t even ten.

Once the meeting concluded, everyone filed out of the conference room to their various workspaces in the maze of cubicles spaced in the otherwise open room.

Pamela followed on Christian’s heels, rising on her toes to speak quietly so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “Debugging? What’s biting his butt? That’s harsh, even for him.”

Christian grunted in response, his annoyance rising.

Jim demanded punctuality, but it wasn’t like Christian was the only one to walk in late to a meeting.

It always annoyed the boss, though he seemed extra peeved today.

Was it because of Christian’s arrangement with HR, allowing him to leave early?

There was nothing he could do about that until he found a replacement nanny for the girls.

Being punished for arriving late for the first time in three years was way out of line.

Besides, his never-ending task list was punishment enough.

He rubbed two fingers along both of his temples, pushing out a frustrated sigh. “I think I’m slowly going insane.”

“Aren’t we all in this place?” Pamela spoke a little louder now that they were out of their boss’s earshot. The laugh that followed bounced off the cubicles they passed. “I was planning to approach him about taking a day off next week, but after the smackdown you just received, I think I’ll wait.”

“Day off?” Christian entered his cubicle and swiped his finger across his computer mouse to wake up the screen. “Doing something fun?”

“Only if you consider interviewing for a new job fun.”

“After working in this nightmare? Yeah, an interview somewhere else would be like Spring Break in Miami.”

Pamela’s infectious laugh warbled again.

Christian threw a smile in her direction before sitting down.

Her ability to lighten the mood would be sorely missed if she left.

But he understood her desire to go. Honestly, he was a little jealous too.

Not in a malicious kind of way. He wished he could follow her lead.

But his kids depended on him to give them the world, and his crushing workload made it impossible to find a spare moment to even look for something new.

Maybe that was Jim’s plan all along.

At least this virtual slave labor paid well.

“Christian,” Jim barked, suddenly appearing in his cubicle. How did he sneak up like that? For someone with the finesse of a rhinoceros, he could slink around as quietly as a cat stalking a mouse.

Christian’s throat tightened with his next thought. Had Jim overheard his conversation with Pamela just now? He’d thought they were far out of ear shot, and he didn’t want to consider what other monotonous tasks the boss had in store if he knew what they’d been talking about.

Pamela scurried back to her side of their shared cubicle, suddenly very interested in her work.

A growl forced up Christian’s throat, and he swallowed it before it escaped. “Did you need something else?” he asked, glancing up at his boss. That didn’t sound insolent, did it? The last thing he needed was a drawn-out lecture about respect in the workplace on top of everything else.

“It’s your turn to clean the break room this morning,” Jim said, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.

You’ve got to be kidding me. The break room? Christian had worked in this purgatory for three years and he’d been late one time. One!

Part of Christian’s brain expected his boss to turn that smirk into a grin before yelling, “gotcha!” and sprinting back to his office.

But no. Jim never joked around. Maybe if he did, people would respect him more. Unfortunately, he was all business all the time, and often hostile and unpleasant to be around. At least Christian didn’t have to live with him. His poor wife.

“I wasn’t aware we had turns,” Christian said, unable to keep the dryness from his tone. Never once had he been handed kitchen duty. His boss’s intentions were clear. He was still getting back at him for being late. And Christian suspected the punishments were just getting started .

Jim crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s up to all of us to keep this office clean.”

When did that become a thing?

“So, you’re up today. Get it done before you leave today.”

Christian barely managed a “yes, sir” before Jim was gone. Once out of ear shot, he dropped his head into his hands and growled. It was a quiet growl. An under his breath kind of growl. But a growl, nonetheless.

Pamela’s head appeared from around the makeshift wall separating their cubicles. “Wow. He’s really mad. You didn’t even miss that much of the meeting.”

“That man’s going to give me an aneurism, I swear,” Christian muttered through his hands.

Pamela sighed. “On the bright side, the staff room actually isn’t that bad.”

That was true. Most of their coworkers were pretty good about cleaning up after themselves.

They were adults after all. Of course, a small few refused to throw away their old leftovers or wash their dishes after using them, but that was true everywhere.

And in reality, Jim was the type of boss who micromanaged everyone.

Taking any kind of break was a joke, really.

Christian spent most days scarfing down his lunch at his desk.

He’d only stepped foot in that room a handful of times in the entire three years he’d worked here.

With a sigh, he pushed back his chair. He might as well get it over with early so he could prepare for the next task of menial labor his boss threw his way.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the break room,” he told Pamela, then stepped out of his cubicle for the walk of shame past the rest of his coworkers.

Not even thirty minutes after arriving home with the girls the next afternoon, Christian found himself dangling over the top of a ladder, his body outstretched as he hung the string of lights to the house.

It would probably be safer to climb down from the rungs and move the whole ladder over a few inches.

But with only one more clip needed to fasten the interwoven orange-and-purple bulbs to the gutter, he just wanted to be done.

If it weren’t for the girls constant begging since the beginning of September, he wouldn’t bother decorating for Halloween at all. But with October right around the corner, he figured they wouldn’t let him put it off very much longer.

Behind him, Pumpkin’s happy barks cut through the early evening, Penelope’s giggles joining them as they chased each other around the yard.

“Where should we put this, Daddy?” Isla asked as a warm breeze whipped against Christian’s back.

He grabbed onto the ladder to keep from losing his foothold on the second rung down.

Once he’d steadied himself, he secured the lights to the gutter before turning to his daughter.

She held a giant, hairy spider that took up half her height.

Its eight beady eyes were a vivid shade of red, which only made it look creepier than it already was.

It's going to be fun staring at that thing for a whole month, he thought climbing down from the ladder. “Where do you think we should put it?”

Isla tossed the spider onto the bushes underneath the porch railing. “How about right here?”

“I couldn’t have picked a better place myself.” Christian stopped untangling the remainder of the lights and walked over to the bushes, straightening the ugly thing over the branches.

The yipping of small dogs announced the arrival of one of their neighbors. Pumpkin barked out a greeting. Christian turned, barely managing to stop the groan from escaping his mouth.

Carrie Pritchard, of all people, stood on the sidewalk in front of their yard. Her three yorkies strained on their leashes in their effort to get to Pumpkin. Tail wagging, the golden retriever trotted over to say hello .

“Hey, Christian!” Carrie called, dragging her yipping dogs across the lawn toward him.

His smile felt more like a grimace, and he fanned his hand out in front of him in an unenthusiastic wave. “How’ve you been, Carrie?”