Page 13 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess

Nessa: Then he would become your new boss!

Me: Yes, and that's absolutely not okay! I like my boss, he's great. But I could never get along with his son.

Nessa: When will you find out?

Me: Probably soon. I’ll just have to hold back and act like I think it’s the best idea ever… while secretly checking job listings.

Nessa: I'm going to stay single from now on, so this doesn't happen again.

Me: Nonsense. There are good guys out there. You just have to find them.

Nessa: Or let them find you.

I send her a picture of two stick figures hugging. Then I get to work. There’s too much to do and the phone won’t stop ringing. This day is officially going on my top 5 list of “days I’d rather forget.”

Two hours later, Mr. Arthur Blackthorn sends a message asking me to come to his lounge. I jump up immediately and lock my computer. Then I forward the phone to the central office and walk down the hallway. I tug at my blouse and skirt, fix my hair, and finally knock on the door.

"Come in." I can barely hear it. As I open the door, I swallow one last time. If I stay composed, surely I won't burst into tears. I've never handled being yelled at well.

"How may I help you, Mr. Blackthorn?" I ask. He’s sitting comfortably in one of the armchairs, looking straight at me. His son Alexander, however, still has his back to me, staring out the window.

This is my end.

The short story of London Waverley.

Unfortunately, we've already reached the end. Game over.

I close my eyes and imagine the play that will someday be written and premiered about me. Will it receive good reviews? The curtains close and the audience applauds enthusiastically.

I take a deep breath, open my eyes again, and close the door behind me.

"Please have a seat," he says, pointing to the armchair next to him.

Oh, I don't like this.

My stomach turns. I’ve only had cookies, tea, and juice all day, and I feel like I might throw up.

With trembling knees, I reach the armchair and sit down, while Alexander still gazes out the window.

This is what I get.

I just wanted to warn a stranger and show my friend that she's not alone.

It's my fault. I've sealed my fate and ruined my professional future.

Chapter 6

Alexander

Moments earlier…

I look at my father, who cheerfully grabs one of the appetizers and enjoys it.

"How was the wedding?" he asks, taking another big sip of coffee.

"Good," I reply shortly.

"Come on, you can give me more than that," he presses.