Uber Bossy: A Small Town Romantic Comedy (Jobs From Hell Book 2) Read online

  Uber Bossy

  Jobs From Hell #2

  Marika Ray

  Marika Ray Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 by Marika Ray

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-950141-18-0

  No goats or seagulls were harmed in the making of this novel. Characters in this book are completely fictional and not based on anyone in real life, though I do have a friend who gives good hugs, so therefore she could be a long lost relative of Lenora should they each do that genetic testing thing and find each other. The town is also fictional, but the trouble with the roundabout is, in fact, a real problem in the town I grew up in, which shall remain anonymous for obvious reasons. Any baby fever you may develop from sweet little Red and his toothy smiles is not my fault.

  Welcome to Hell…

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Marika Ray

  Introduction

  Number one rule of ride sharing as a female driver? Don’t fall for the mysterious man riding in the back seat.

  Lenora

  I came across crazy people on the daily giving rides to strangers for a living. I carried pepper spray and I wasn’t afraid to use it. But one gorgeous male in a fake mustache and a story he wasn’t willing to share, and I was ready to climb in the back seat to peel his layers. He’s a distraction I don’t need as I graduate online college and try to get my first professional job so I can move out of my parents’ house before I’m thirty. I’m so close to realizing my dreams I can taste it.

  Jayden

  I should have never hit on my driver. Even if she was the hottest thing I’d seen in cutoff jean shorts in maybe forever. I wasn’t in Auburn Hill for personal reasons and getting involved with the locals came ill-advised as I set up my new business. I probably shouldn’t know she curses like a sailor in bed considering I wind up interviewing her for a position in my company. Now I’m thinking of all kinds of positions I can put her in. Maybe she’ll settle for being an employee with benefits…

  But none of that matters now. Because I fired her. In front of the whole town. On her first day.

  Pretty sure there’s no coming back from that.

  1

  Lenora

  I took a sip out of my thermal cup and thanked the good Lord above for caffeine. I just started my night picking up ride shares and I already regretted it. A dinosaur head smashed against my passenger window, a warbled voice coming from somewhere below the snout.

  “I need to get to Monterey. ASAP.”

  Halloween was months away, but I wasn’t even fazed by the costume choice. “Hop in.”

  The cheap costume material squeaked against the rubber lining running along the inside of my doorframe as it tried to wedge itself into my back seat. One leg and half a torso entered my car, the dino butt aimed right at my face, when the head got stuck.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Um, could you…” The frazzled male voice came to me through layers of puffy fake dinosaur.

  I sighed and heaved myself out of the car. It was amazing how lack of sleep on a chronic basis could age your joints fifty years. Or maybe it was dealing with the insane half of society on a daily basis.

  “Hold on,” I warned.

  I gave the head a mighty shove, maybe taking out some driver-of-crazies angst with the movement, sending Dinosaur Man into the back seat in a crumpled heap. I smirked the smirk of cosmic justice served and got back in the car.

  “Seat belt!” I called, watching the guy in the rearview mirror scramble to an upright position—dino head tilted at an unnatural angle—before I put the car in gear and pulled back into traffic.

  I got him to Monterey on time and thank the traffic gods, I got him back out of my car even with the dinosaur suit battling valiantly against us. I accepted another rider on my way out of town and it went from there, ride after ride in a sea of faces and perfumes and odd, stilted conversations.

  By midnight, I found my way back to Auburn Hill, dropping my last rider at Hell’s Hotel and trudging home to work on my paper for school. I had exactly thirty hours left to get it turned in online. And if the school gods were with me, I’d pass and be an official college graduate with the piece of paper that would open doors to the marketing job I wanted more than I wanted my next breath.

  Mom and Dad were already asleep, given the dark windows, so I slipped inside quietly to give my younger brother a good night hug despite his grumbling and got to work on my paper before my eyelids slid shut around two in the morning. Yet another night spent asleep at my desk. The new day dawned with a flurry of half-crazed typing as I aimed to get my paper completely written, leaving the editing for this evening. At noon, I slammed the laptop shut and grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter. I backtracked into my room to spritz on some Candied Apple Kisses body spray and figured that was as near to a shower as I’d get before this paper was turned in. And given the hygiene of most of my rides, I doubted I’d be the one blamed in a sniff test.

  “Are you going out again, Lenny?” Mom called from the kitchen table where she had five books open and spread out, a notebook waiting for inspiration to strike.

  “Yeah, Mom. I’ll be back by six and then I’ll be in my room getting my final paper ready to submit.” Rethinking my hasty escape, I grabbed a banana off the kitchen counter and paused to give her a quick hug.

  Mom peered at me over the rim of her tiny reading glasses. “Is that really all you’re going to eat? Let me make you a bologna sandwich.” She pushed back the old wooden chair and took a step toward the refrigerator.

  “Sorry, Mom. I don’t have time. Got rides to grab.” I swung my keys on my finger and grabbed an apple off the counter to appease her. I gave her a sunny smile and exited the door before she could make good on her pressed meat promises. God, that crap was nasty. I swear, my parents still thought I was a ten-year-old with underdeveloped taste buds. Though given I still lived at home as a twenty-eight-year-old, I guess they were justified in their beliefs.

  Before I could go down the familiar rabbit hole of condemning myself for being “that” millennial, the one still living at home and mooching off her parents, I fired up my app and tossed my things in the car. I had a solid life plan and I was so close to getting that marketing job that would enable me to finally move out on my own. Not my fault it had taken eight years to get a four-year degree. I’d paid my own way and those credits were pricey little bastards. I should be proud I’d be graduating with zero debt.

  My phone dinged and I accepted the ride as I bit into the apple. A pick-up on Main Street righ
t here in Auburn Hill. Perfect. I cruised down my street and turned toward Main, hoping the cluster known as a two-lane roundabout wouldn’t be backed up today. The city had just installed it this week and it was already confuzzling the residents. I, on the other hand, being a sophisticated bitch, had driven in big cities where roundabouts were common intersections. My fellow citizens didn’t seem to possess the same experience and were therefore stymied as to how to navigate the ins and outs of a counter clockwise movement of traffic around a statue of the first gold miner in California—who, by the way, happened to bear a striking resemblance to our current mayor, though it was probably just a coincidence.

  I did a little shoulder dance in the car when I saw the roundabout was relatively free, except for poor Peggy Sue driving on the inside lane around and around in a circle like she had nothing to do but use up gasoline while showing off her vehicle’s tight turning radius. I waved as she went by, sticking to the outer lane and debating whether she looked a little green around the gills. She’d eventually straighten out and exit the turnabout. I was sure of it.

  When I hit Main Street, I slowed, finally seeing a woman I recognized from my mom’s tight circle of friends with her phone out in front of her, the brows on her face scrunched together like she was summoning her ride with brain power alone. The familiarity meant I had to be on my best behavior. Don’t get me wrong, I was a card-carrying adult, but in a town like Auburn Hill and with a God-fearing family like mine, I had to watch my mouth. I’d been known to let fly a few expletives when behind the wheel. And by a few I meant a litany that would make your hair curl. While I still lived under my parents’ roof, I had to keep the blasphemy on lockdown. Not always easy to do if you saw the crazy things I did out on the road for hours at a time.

  I eased up as tight to the curb as I could with all the cars lining Main Street and waved through the window at my new rider. She finally saw me and hustled over, her tote bag flapping against the blue cotton pants I would guess she got from a department store that went under a decade ago.

  A loud tapping on my driver’s side window had me jumping in my seat. Penelope Fines, the most irritating woman in all of Auburn Hill, stood just outside my door with an eyebrow raised that spoke of trouble to come. Her meter maid uniform was something of a joke here in Hell, what with the starched collar and flashy badge paired with shorts over her spindly legs. Guess it was hard to keep weight on when you walked all day long handing out parking tickets to your fellow citizens. That, and she was probably part demon spawn and I didn’t think those really took time out of their evil doing to grab a bite to eat.

  I bit back the sigh that wanted to escape and rolled down the window.

  “Did you need a hug, Penny?”

  Her lips thinned and I patted myself on the back for getting her goat so quickly in our conversation. She hated being called Penny. And hated my hugs. Oops.

  “You’re double-parked, missy.” She waved around her official pad of tickets as if I was unaware of where I’d driven and paused my vehicle.

  “The town law says I have sixty-four seconds to pause here before I need to move along.” I smiled at her and sat back. I took my ride sharing job seriously. I knew the local laws backward and forward.

  She smiled back at me, no teeth showing. “You’ve been here sixty-six seconds.”

  I shook my head and moved my hand back to the power window switch. “I would have been gone before sixty-four, but you tried to detain me. Something a meter maid does not have the power to do. Those extra seconds are on your clock, not mine. Have a lovely day, Penny.”

  The window rolled up in slow motion as she seethed in silence, her left nostril twitching bizarrely. Poor girl needed to loosen up that bun. She was probably giving herself a headache. I’d be grumpy too with all my frown muscles engaged permanently.

  “Where to, Peggy Sue?” I tossed a sunny smile to my rider and eased out onto Main Street, careful to avoid the orthopedic black sneakers belonging to Ms. Fines.

  “My friend Janey’s house halfway to Monterey. I told her I didn’t know why she bought a place so far off the beaten path, but she insisted she needed more space for her livestock.” She harrumphed. “Given that interaction with Penelope Fines and the new parking meters that went in, I’m starting to see her point. This town is going to hell in a handbasket.”

  I zoomed right out of town, glancing in my rearview mirror to take in the welcome sign to Auburn Hill, spray-painted yet again to simply be Welcome to Hell. I choked back a snort of laugher, turning it into a cough instead. Peggy Sue was right. Auburn Hill really was Hell.

  As soon as I dropped Peggy Sue at Janey’s house—who happened to have a disturbingly large goat collection going in that front yard of hers—my phone pinged, signaling another ride waiting for a pick-up. The ride originated at Monterey airport, only a mile or two away, so I accepted it and turned the wheel in that direction. Usually rides from the small airstrip payed well, as only business travelers with deep expense pockets or rich people with private jets landed there.

  I pulled into the line of cars backed up at the ride share pick-up location, seeing from my app that my rider was a guy named Jay.

  “All right, Jay, you better be an upstanding citizen or I’ll break out my new pepper spray,” I muttered, inching forward in line.

  I’d been lucky. Not once had I had an issue with an unruly rider. Never been assaulted or put in a compromising situation. Weird situations, yes, but never legally compromising. The only reason I had a new pepper spray was because my original one was past its expiration date. If I had to hit someone in the face with it, I wanted that pepper to be at full stinging power.

  I finally got to the front of the line and craned my head searching for a guy who looked like he was waiting for a ride. I hopped out, leaving my door open and called out, “Jay?”

  A head lifted and a guy hustled forward, a tiny rolling suitcase his only baggage.

  “Lenora?” he asked when he got close.

  His low voice rushed over me and I found myself standing taller, like accepting this ride would require an inspection of some sort. And boy did I suddenly want to be inspected. Thoroughly. I felt every single wrinkle in my poorly chosen outfit. I blinked and tried to focus on his face. Hard steel-gray eyes stared back at me, dark, thick eyebrows framing them perfectly. Harshly.

  Damn, I have brow envy.

  “Hello?” The eyebrows drew together.

  I blinked again and pulled myself out of my musings. “Yeah, sorry. I’m Lenora. Where are you headed today?” I turned away to open the trunk for his suitcase, glad I could shift into automatic conversation in times of stress. I’d done this song and dance so many times I could do it in my sleep, sexy eyebrows or not.

  I reached for his suitcase, the same time he did, our fingers tangling on the leather handle. And before you could say “holy hotness, Batman” I was standing there frozen, holding hands with a stranger.

  “I got it,” he rumbled, his face now just inches from mine.

  I straightened so fast I heard my back crack. The personal contact had sent a bolt of something through me, electrifying all my senses and shorting out my rational brain. My gaze zeroed in on the mystery man’s mustache. It was thick and dark brown, combed straight down like he’d stepped off a Hollywood set still in costume for a ’70s movie. For a second there, with our heads that close, I could have sworn I saw the edges to it, like it was one of those props Halloween-goers glued on to complete the costume. Unfortunately, with my rational brain closed for the time being, all my pathetic little heart could do was yearn a little for the handsome stranger with the commanding voice and the even stranger attempt at a disguise.

  He should have looked ridiculous standing there in an expensive suit minus the jacket, his long sleeves rolled up to reveal thick forearms with a dusting of dark hair. I mean, that part was so very, very nice. It’s just that his face didn’t match the rest of him. His body said “hello, I’m your sexy boss about to tie you down
and make you take my dictation,” but his face, complete with a glued-on mustache and a beat-up baseball cap, said creepy internet stalker living in his mom’s basement.

  The clank of his suitcase hitting the trunk of my car and then the slamming of my trunk had my brain perking back up. I was perving on a mama’s boy stranger more inclined to kill me when I wasn’t looking than be my Prince Charming.

  “Okay, well, here we go.” I pasted on a smile as fake as that mustache and hustled back to my door. He rounded the car on the opposite side and slid in the back seat, the scent of his cologne filling my car. It wasn’t overly strong, I was just overly weak to a man’s scent.

  “Hill Hotel, please,” came his voice from the back.

  A shiver ran down my spine and straight as an arrow to that space between my thighs that hadn’t seen action in a couple years. His voice had a specific timbre or vibration to it that spoke right to my lady parts. Quite unnerving. Quite delicious.

  I gritted my teeth and put the car in drive, easing into traffic and making my way back to Auburn Hill, where I promised myself an early evening if I just handled this ride with some level of competence that wouldn’t have me cringing tomorrow. Flicking glances in the rearview mirror, I studied the sharp line of his jaw, the way the dark hairs had already grown in, despite probably shaving just that morning. He studiously looked out the side window, observing the land beside the freeway and then each house and place of business as we entered Auburn Hill.