A Bad Boy's Gift

Epilogue

4 weeks later...

I pull up outside Abbott Security, a building on an industrial estate which houses my inherited company. The building would look like a modern set of flats or offices if you didn't know what it housed on the inside.

I scan my ID at the front desk, waving to the receptionist as I walk through the metal detector.

"Ring please, Boss," the security guard says as the alarm goes off.

I huff, fed up with taking my engagement ring off every time I walk through the doors here. I pass it to him, walk through the metal detector and back again, offering my hand for Ron to place my ring back in my hand.

I pick my handbag up from the other side of the X-ray machine and slide my ring on again before putting my stilettos back on my feet.

My choice of outfit is usually the same, now that I am helping run the business on-site. A cute blouse and black trousers and blazer with my smart stilettos which I literally only wear to walk to and from the car.

I climb the stairs to the offices upstairs, greeting the manager; Dan, as I walk past his office.

"River, I've been waiting for you to get here," he calls, halting me just past his door.

"Am I late?" I ask as I poke my head around the doorframe, forgetting I'm the boss and checking my watch before remembering that I don't actually have to come in, let alone do any work for the company myself.

"No, you come in when you want to, Duck," typical 'Stokie' nickname. "We had a letter this morning that I thought might be of some interest to you."

He hands me a letter.

"I'll read it later, I need to have something to eat before I do any work," I smile at him.

The smile he returns is an uneasy one, as though he'd prefer me to read it in front of him.

I make my way into the kitchen to put my salad in the fridge for lunchtime. I crack a couple of eggs into a mug and slip it into the microwave to scramble while I put some bread into the toaster.

I sit to eat my egg on toast when four of the lads come in, laughing and joking, swearing and pushing each other around. That is until they see me sitting at one of the tables.

"Sorry, Boss, just had a training session; we're all a bit buzzed," Josh says.

"It's fine, I don't expect you to be on your best behaviour around me, I don't want anything to change just because I'm here," I say, continuing with my breakfast, fully aware that I'm in a male-dominated building.

"Sure, Boss," he says, grabbing a container out of the fridge and putting it into the microwave while the other boys get shakers and protein powder to make their breakfasts, one of the guys even getting a box of fruit out of the fridge.

Josh opens the microwave when it beeps and takes the lid off, steam erupting from the box and along with it, the smell of fish and something else that makes my stomach turn.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I kick off my shoes, knowing I'll never reach the toilet if I've got them on.

I set off running; out of the room, down the corridor and into the bathroom, having no time to lock the door before I share my breakfast with the toilet.

"For fuck sake," I mutter to myself.

I sit back on my knees, waiting for a couple of minutes to make sure there's no more.

I hear the door creak but don't turn to see who it is.

"Baby, Josh told me you ran out of the kitchen and heard you throw up, did you eat something bad?" Archer asks, coming to stand behind me, lowering the toilet lid and flushing it.