Is He Your Boyfriend?

"Jo?" JD murmured, the word barely audible.

There she was. Seated behind the large desk, exuding a composed authority that made the room feel smaller. Joanne Smith—or rather, the boss—looked every bit the part. The playful ease he had once associated with her was replaced by a professional sharpness, an air of control that left no room for nonsense.

Beautiful, nonetheless.

JD barely had time to process the revelation before another voice cut through the moment.

"Mom!"

His gaze snapped to the young girl who had burst into the room, and for a second, his brain failed to catch up.

Joanne's heart skipped a beat. Damn it, Charlotte.

This wasn't how she had planned for JD to find out. She had wanted to tell him herself, maybe in a controlled setting, where she could explain things properly—not like this, not with him standing there, caught completely off guard.

She pushed her emotions aside and turned to the messy-haired girl who had made herself comfortable in the middle of the room. Joanne's gaze softened as she took in Charlotte's flushed face, her cheeks still pink from exertion, her feisty blue eyes gleaming.

"Charlotte… Did you bike here again?" Joanne sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The next town was almost five miles away. Charlotte had done this before—riding in the summer heat without a second thought, just to see her. Joanne had told her time and again not to, but she knew better than anyone that trying to control Charlotte was like trying to hold back a storm with bare hands.

"It's Charlie, Mom! Not Charlotte," the girl corrected, puffing her chest in defiance.

Joanne rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She stood and walked to the mini-fridge, retrieving a pack of cranberry juice. Without a word, she handed it over.

"Eww! Not cranberry again!" Charlotte wrinkled her nose, but despite the protest, she grabbed the pack and started drinking. She was thirsty.

Joanne smirked. Uh-huh. Thought so.

Charlotte was at that stage where everything remotely feminine seemed to offend her. Joanne understood—she'd gone through it herself. Then, seemingly overnight, she had wanted to be Cinderella. She had a feeling this twelve-year-old firecracker would come out of it, too.

"Hey, kid," Brian cut in, his patience already wearing thin. He placed a firm hand on Charlotte's shoulder. "You can't just barge in here whenever you—Ah!"

Before he could finish, Charlotte twisted out of his grip and delivered a swift, well-aimed kick to his shin.

Hard.

Considering she was trained in karate, it was a lot of force.

"Oww—fcking sh*t—!" Brian cursed, immediately doubling over to clutch his leg. His face twisted in pain as he glared at Charlotte, who looked entirely unfazed.

Joanne's eyes narrowed. She saw it before it happened—the way Brian's hand curled into a fist, the way his expression darkened.

"Get out, Brian."

Her voice was sharp, authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Brian hesitated, still clutching his shin, but when he saw the look in Joanne's eyes—the kind that meant she would fire him—he grumbled a few curses under his breath and limped his way out of the room.

Charlotte grinned triumphantly and made a beeline for the mini-fridge. She pulled it open and scanned its contents, then let out an exaggerated groan.

"Ugh! No alcohol? Why is it all cranberry juice? I like root beer." She stomped her foot dramatically.

"No, you don't," Joanne replied without looking up from her laptop. "You like cranberry juice."

"You don't know me!" Charlotte huffed, stomping again. But then, as quickly as her mood had turned sour, it flipped again. Her face lit up with an excited smile, and she spun toward Joanne, dragging a chair to sit beside her.

"You're going to fire that guy, aren't you?" Charlotte leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I saw that look on your face. I love that look on your face. Tell me. Tell me, Mom! You are going to fire him, right? Please say yes. I don't like him at all." She grabbed Joanne's arm and shook it. "Mom! Mom! Mom!"

JD pressed himself against the wall, watching the exchange unfold. He should leave. Technically.

But… she had only told Brian to leave. Not him.

And more than that, something kept him rooted to the spot.

The dynamic between Joanne and Charlotte fascinated him. There was something oddly natural about it, something deep and unshaken. The way Joanne looked at Charlotte wasn't just fond—it was familiar. Like she knew her, inside and out.

Could she really be her mother?

If so, that raised a lot of questions. Is she divorced? Was she a teen mom?

Joanne exhaled, turning toward the girl who was gulping down her juice. She reached over and tugged Charlotte's hat off her head, making the girl frown. Joanne ignored it. She needed to see her face properly.

"Does your dad know?" Joanne asked, her voice firm.

Charlotte's eyes flickered. "That I'm here?" She pressed her lips together and looked away.

Joanne's stare remained steady. "…And that you're calling me Mom?"

There it was. The real question.

Charlotte hesitated. Then, with a shrug, she said, "Nope."

Joanne sighed.

She had told the girl over and over again not to call her Mom. But Charlotte never listened. In the end, Joanne had relented—because she loved her.

Still… for some reason, she wanted to clarify things to JD. She could feel his gaze, sense the questions running through his mind.

"He's a busy man. He doesn't have to know everything," Charlotte said with the defiance of a tween, yanking her hat back and shoving it onto her head.

Joanne sighed again, rubbing her temple. What else could she do?

Joanne exhaled, her gaze settling on the passionate girl before her. "What do you want now?" she asked, though her voice lacked any real bite. Charlotte wouldn't have biked all the way here in the summer heat for no reason. Joanne had an inkling as to why—probably something about the junior league.

But instead of answering, Charlotte grinned and leaned into her, hugging her arm. "I just wanted to see you, Mom! I want to watch you work so I can grow up to be just like you."

Joanne's lips twitched. How could she not love this kid? She chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from Charlotte's face. "You're already a handful. The world might not survive two of us."

Charlotte laughed, but then her gaze shifted across the room, landing on JD. Her lively expression faded into a scrutinizing squint.

JD, who had been watching the scene with an amused grin, suddenly found himself the subject of a twelve-year-old's interrogation.

"Why is he still here?" Charlotte asked, her head tilting. Then, as if the idea had just dawned on her, she turned back to Joanne, eyes wide with accusation. "Wait. Is he your boyfriend?"