Reuben De Los Santos Gets a New Boss - Signed Paperback

My new boss a bit of a grump. And my house might be haunted, but other than that, this move is going well.

I jump at the chance to live near my best friend and accept a job managing a BBQ joint in a small Texas town. Adjacent to her happily-ever-after is good enough for me. Pleasantly plump and almost 50, I’m content being single.
The grumpy restaurant owner is my best friend’s soon-to-be-brother-in-law, which means not only do I see him at work, we’re also at Sunday family dinners together. And after a few weeks on the job, we’re playing cards in the evenings. Like friends.
He’s one surprise after another. When weird things start happening at my rented house, he checks every room. When my grandmother demands I find a husband or forfeit my grandpa’s paintings, Reuben overhears and volunteers to fake a relationship so I can get the treasured artwork. There is a teddy bear under the crusty exterior.
But the fake relationship plan fails. Epically.
And when my grandmother needs me, I race back home like I always do. Then I’m faced with a choice between helping my family or Reuben. But when I think about who shows up for me, the choice is easy. Even if the consequences are hard.

Brisket. The aroma stirs something deep in my soul. That scent is probably a pheromone of some kind. I’m not an expert on pheromones, but I’ve read that they can improve mood and even spark love at first sight. The improved mood makes sense, but I don’t believe you can love someone after one glimpse. It’s not possible. Love needs time to grow.
Why am I even thinking about love? Since there aren’t many men I interact with in my daily life, my chances of romance hover only slightly above zero. In a normal week, I talk to Zeke, who is engaged to my best friend, and Reuben, Zeke’s brother and my boss. Reuben and I are definitely not in love.
And I’d rate the chances of that happening as a negative number.
We’re not even in like. He might actually despise me. But it’s hard to tell if it’s just me or if he’s angry at the whole world, so I’m trying not to take his dislike personally.
But oh, how I love the smell of this place. Brisket isn’t the only reason I accepted the job as business manager at Reuben’s barbecue joint. But it’s near the top of my list. Eating the goodness beats smelling it all day long. And I get to be close to my best friend Megan.
Also, Reuben is hot. If you are into big burly guys with a tiny bit of pudge around the middle. Not too much. Just enough that you know his food is good. I’m not sure I want barbecue made by a skinny pitmaster.
But the reason I think he despises me is that I’m one week into the job, and he has barely spoken to me. This will make for an interesting working relationship. It’s not like he ignores me. If I ask a question, he answers. But in as few words as possible. It’s a bit humorous. And also a tad frustrating.
I’m still waiting for him to address me as Boss like I requested. We’ll see if he ever does. Having the surname Boss was a pain in elementary school, but as an adult, it has its perks.
Now that my training is over, Amanda, the previous business manager, is no longer here for Reuben to speak to instead. And that has me curious. Will today be different than the previous week? Amanda promised me Reuben would mellow a bit. Those last two words made me laugh at the time. We’ll see if I’m laughing at the end of this week. As I figure, by then, I’ll know if taking this job is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I have my fingers crossed that it’s not.
And honestly not being spoken to is a whole heck of a lot better than being yelled at and micromanaged by my little brother, my previous employer.
If I get discouraged or frustrated with Reuben, I’ll squint, attempting to get a glimpse of his hidden teddy bear. It’s in there. I know it. He only looks like he could be the leader of a biker gang. In cowboy boots.
Standing between my car and Reuben’s truck, I inhale the cool morning air and the amazing aroma. Then I head inside. Rather than entering through the back door, I step into the pit so that Reuben can see that I’m here early and ready to do a bang-up job.
He is staring at the closed pits, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Good morning!”
The mug slips out of his hand and shatters into at least twenty pieces. At the speed of highway traffic on a Friday afternoon—which is very slow—he turns to face me. “You’re just a cheerful ball of sunshine, aren’t you?”
“Thank you.” I smooth my blouse, which coordinates perfectly with my bright pink pants, and smile.
He stares at the spilled coffee and shards of ceramic mug on the ground. “That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Okay then.” My snippiness is on full display now. I’m not going to play nice just because he’s perpetually grumpy. But I can apologize when appropriate. “I’m sorry about startling you. And about the mug. After I clean this up, I can get you fresh coffee.” I pick up the largest chunk of what was once a blue cup.
“Leave it.” He motions toward the door, shooing me with a head nod.
I stand and march toward the door.
As I open it, he asks, “Why are you here?”
Is this a weird sort of game? I glance back, looking to see if he’s trying to be funny. “Um, I work here.”
“Why are you here early? The restaurant doesn’t open for another five hours.”
“I want this day—and every day from now on—to run smoothly, and I’m here early to make sure I have all my ducks in a row.”
“Whatever. But keep any actual ducks out of the building. It’s a health hazard.”
“Noted. Anything else?”
“Nope. You can go.”
If I didn’t like living so close to my best friend, I might quit on the spot. But I don’t. Instead, I square my shoulders and walk away.
I will not let this man’s cloudy disposition ruin my day. This is still a step up from working with my brother. And Reuben is easy on the eyes.
That’s simply appreciation for how he’s put together. And decorated. I say decorated because he has a sleeve tattoo, which I personally find super hot. I only know it’s a full sleeve because my friend Megan mentioned it. I’ve only seen a small part because he’s been dressed for cold weather since I arrived, but I’ve long been a fan of Mexican folk art. And I’ve seen enough to know that’s part of it. As the temperatures warm, hopefully, his sleeves will get shorter, and I’ll get a better look. At his tattoo and his arms.
This appreciation does not involve any romantic notions. I’m happy being single. And it’s obvious to everyone that Reuben has sworn off love. Shoot, I’m pretty sure he’s taken a vow not to smile.
I let the door slam behind me when I go inside.