The Boss Lady

THE BOSS LADY

By

Lola
h Lace

Kindle Edition

Published by Lolah Lace

Copyright ©
2014 by Lolah Lace

Cover Image
Photos by

Vladimirs Poplavskis
& Juniart

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use on
ly, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

*EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT*

WARNING

This novel
is considered romantic fiction with erotic elements. This is for mature audiences only. This book contains adult profane language and strong sexual content.

Dedications

This is novel is dedicated to all the readers who have supported my works as an independent writer.

Acknowledgments

I would like to send a special thanks to the Amazon, Kindle, Nook, Goodreads and Facebook readers that gave me glowing reviews for my books in Balls To the Walls Erotica Series. I appreciate you because you recognize that although you may or may not like the direction the story is going you still can appreciate the vision. Interracial Romance reader’s rock!

CHAPTER ONE

LUKAS

I didn’t need an alarm clock to wake me up. Sleep had become a foreign concept to me. I hadn’t had a good night’s rest in four weeks and three days. Even sleeping pills couldn’t remedy my never-ending bout with wakefulness. I was far too fucked up to function on limited amounts of sleep but then again functioning was an abstract concept to me.

Life had changed so drastically
in such a short time but life goes on. Life would proceed with or without me. It was up to me to exist in the world that I preferred to escape from. I wanted to die slowly and painfully. Maybe I’m already dead.

I wanted to end it all but something inside me
kept me going. It kept me breathing the polluted air. It kept me from putting my 9mm in my mouth and going into the infinite sleep.

Was I the type of man that sat around the house in a deep depression or was I the kind of man that trudged on even though
the pain was deftly paralyzing? I truly believed myself the latter. Only time will tell or maybe time will be the death of me, time is a cruel and unforgiving slave master.

Happiness is fleeting but my pain seems
the only constant. Can I act otherwise? Pain-free. Can I fool the people who know me best? Today I will see. Today is the day I return to work. If I can fool my employees it will be the same as deceiving me. I’m not sure I’m a good actor. I’m not quite sure I want to be a part of life’s stage-play.

I showered and dressed in old faded blue jeans and my regular comp
any t-shirt, a navy blue cotton tee with the words Hamilton Moving Company on the front. I knew I could do it. I can go to work and act normal.

My face was a
haggard mess. I needed a haircut and a shave. My skin was pale as a ghost. I haven’t been out of the house so the sun hadn’t touched my skin in weeks. My worst noticeable feature was my eyes. The gray was gray but the bloodshot red that surrounded them was enough to signal everyone to my lack of sleep.

This is harder than I thought.
I could show up and put on my game face. Just one step at a time and I will be okay. I can do this. I believe I can do this.

I
hiked out the front door to my pickup truck.  I took the same familiar route to my job. I was in the car driving but my mind was in a daze. When I pulled up to the building I realized I couldn’t remember stopping at the stoplights. Somehow I arrived here safely.

The
biggest moving truck was gone. The whole crew was gone. I walked into the front door and my receptionist’s eyes skimmed me like I was a freak. I wasn’t a freak. I was a tired sluggish zombie. I hope this day doesn’t get to awkward. I hope no one asks me any questions about my extended vacation.

“Good morning Luke.”
She smiled and peeked up over her glasses.

“Good morning Sara.” I tried to sound chipper but my pain radiated in
the depths of my heart. “All the guys are gone already?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way to the new house now.”

“Okay great. I’m going to meet up with them and help out. They’re one man short today. What’s the address?”

“Would you like me to text it to your cell?”

“Yeah that would be great.”

“Would you like some coffee to go?” She asked. She was doing a decent job of treating
me normal. Her initial shock of seeing me must be over.

“Yes thanks Sara.” I forced a smile and walked pass her
cluttered desk into my small back office. I took a seat behind my messy desk. I hadn’t been here in a while and it sure looked that way. I stared out the window as passing cars roared by. My cell buzzed on my belt clip. I’m sure it was the address I had just requested from Sara. 

I had left Anthony
Jackson in charge. Tony and I had actually gone to high school together. We didn’t run in the same crowds back then. I didn’t have any black friends in high school and in junior high most kids gravitated toward their own race.

Things had changed for me
in my adult life. Now Tony was running the show in my absence. He was on the big truck with the rest of the crew. Tony was like a brother to me. Yeah I have a brother but Tony had a way of talking to me like I was human. He was a hard working guy just like me. Akin to me he didn’t want much out of life. Little things made him happy. He used to be my drinking buddy before this all happened. Tony never treated me like I was his boss. I was, but Tony didn’t give a damn. He didn’t bullshit me. He wasn’t afraid of me. I respected that for some odd reason plus he was the only person that always remembered my birthday. My own family never remembered my birthday. Old girlfriends never remembered my birthday but for the last four years Tony always remembered my birthday. It was a small thing but oddly it meant something to me.

I
decided to call Tony. When I did he filled me in on the progress of the job. He told me they were almost done with the move so I should just stay put. We had another moving job at two o’clock and I decided to just go on that one and help out. On the next job it would be a four man crew which included me.

We
quickly removed all the furniture and boxes from a large townhouse in a middle class area of town. We were moving the stuff to an affluent suburb that was just minutes away from where my moving trucks were housed. We arrived on time. We always did, my guys were the best. I was a good boss but I ran a tight ship. My rules were simple. Do your job. The quicker and more efficient you move the more time you have to fuck off, loaf around and bullshit. I didn’t mind guys knocking off early if all the work was done.

My
crew didn’t give me the same shocked and apologetic eyes that I received from Sara. They pretty much acted like I wasn’t there. I appreciated that more than they would ever know. We got to work as soon as the lady of this huge empty house let us in. I let Tony take the lead. I wasn’t really in a good place to communicate with any customers.

I grabbed the awkward shaped
pink mini dresser out the truck. It was something I could haul by myself. I was doing my best to stay away from the other guys. Not because I was their boss but because I felt different, broken. I couldn’t laugh and joke around like I used to. It was as if my happy switch had been turned off. I hadn’t been to the gym in weeks. I did as many floor exercises I could do at home but still I wasn’t what anyone would call one hundred percent.

This particular customer
had a lot of expensive furniture and I wanted to make sure none of it was damaged. Rich people pay well but sometimes they were a pain in the ass. Not only did they want you to move the furniture in with the utmost care they wanted you to be their interior decorator. I’m a mover, not Martha Stewart.

When I
first started this business I only had one truck. Some old rich lady wanted me to put vertical blinds up after moving all her heavy antique furniture in. I was desperate to get my business going so I did it. She was a generous tipper and she did throw some business my way so it paid off in the end.

I tell all my employees to go the extra mile and when in doubt just call me and ask me what to do if there is a problem.

This job would take a few hours but the lady who owned the property seemed to be cool enough to let us do our job. She was some curvy attractive black lady that looked too young to have acquired this much wealth. She’s probably married to some rich guy. She wasn’t dressed like she was moving into a new house. She looked like she was going on a corporate job interview.

While going in and out
of the house, I never spotted anybody but her and a little girl. I was letting Tony handle all the paperwork and interactions. He was my head guy on most jobs. Today I was just helping out so my employee Miguel could get ready to set up his only daughters
Quinceanera
. I had missed helping out on the first job of the day so I was trying to pull my weight on this job.

The
brick two-story house was humongous and on the side of town with the new luxury homes. This place had to be at least a quarter of a million. I have always been happy with less. I have a nice two bedroom ranch style home with a one car garage that cost me seventy thousand dollars. I purchased it five years ago and I paid it off last year. I didn’t want to have to have a mortgage payment to contend with.

In retrospect it was a good idea
. I wasn’t affected by the housing crisis. I always had a lot of customers. People were constantly going into foreclosure and losing their homes because of this shitty economy. Other folk’s misfortune became my financial gain. Misplaced families were always moving, downsizing from homes they couldn’t afford any longer. Now I have four moving trucks and I was even thinking about purchasing a storage facility but I can’t think about that now. I’m just trying to take one day at a time. I just need to get through the countless endless days without feeling like killing myself.

I made it up the stairs to the room that belong
ed to the only kid I had seen, the cute little black girl. The room was painted pink and purple. There were girly items and toys everywhere. The little kid had a lot of stuff. She probably was spoiled rotten. Aren’t all little girls spoiled rotten. She was wearing a princess tiara when I entered and watching me closely but not suspiciously.

“Hey kid where do you want this?”

“Over there by the window.” The little
black girl pointed. “My name is Kelly.”

“Okay Kelly.” I lifted the dresser and placed it where she pointed.

There was a massive amount of Barbie dolls stacked against a wall in the corner. It had to be as many as fifty Barbie boxes stacked on top of one another. I smiled. The dolls reminded me of my daughter. All the Barbie dolls I could see were black dolls. I didn’t know that many Black Barbie dolls existed.

“You’re real
ly strong Mister. Your muscles are Superman big.”

I smiled at the compliment.
The little princess was trying to read my arm tats. “I eat healthy.” This time I took a good look at the little black girl. She was really cute. She had those same bright green eyes just like my Hailey.

“
Healthy like fruits and vegetables?” She asked.

I chuckled. “Yeah, all that good
healthy stuff.”

“Mister, w
hat’s your name?”

“Lukas.”

The little girl seemed to think about my name before she spoke. “Mister Lukas, do you know how to put my TV on the wall?”

“Yeah I know how but you would have to ask your mother about that. She didn’t pay me to do that.
I have to do what she tells me.”

“Huh, I also have to do what she tells me.” Kelly smirked. I think she was being sarcasti
c. It was funny coming from such a little kid. I had to admit that. “Does it cost a lot to get the TV on the wall?”

“Yeah but since you’re so nice;
I could do it for, I don’t know, twenty bucks.”