Page 18 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess

“I’ve noticed the tension between you and my son. He wanted to stay in New York, but I summoned him here. He’s not happy about it and is probably just having a bad day. If you prove what you can do and support him, he’ll realize he can’t fire you.”

“So you’re gambling with me?”

“You’re the ace up my sleeve.” He smiles confidently and slides a letter across the desk. I reach for it, but he holds it down with his hand, making me pull back. I notice the red wax seal.

“I’ve prepared a document. In your favor.”

“May I read it?”

“No, not yet. It may only be opened in the event of your termination.”

“Is this my severance package?”

“Indeed. The amount I’ve listed should compensate you significantly.”

“I’d prefer to work for my money.”

“I’ll leave this letter with our notary. If my son offers you a permanent position, it becomes void.”

"That would definitely be my preference," I admit.

“You’re too honest for this world.” He smiles briefly, then adds: “If he gives you trouble, get him some nut chocolate. He loves it more than anything.” A valuable tip.

“I’ll remember that.” I nod and add, “I’ll show your son around the company now and walk him through everything important so he’s ready to take over Monday. I’ll plan the adjustments for the summer party in honor of your departure later this afternoon.”

“Very good.” He turns back to his screen, and I leave the office.

Now the real question: how am I supposed to pull off new plans in four days without even knowing what he wants? He’s relying on me, but what if I choose wrong—too silly, too loud, or not pompous enough? Too boring? Too action-packed?

Unfortunately, there's only one person who could help me here, and that's his son. I hate that I’m dependent on this jerk.

Back at my desk, I take a moment to breathe and drink something.

Me: S.O.S.! My boss retires Friday, and his son’s taking over! My contract expires, and I need a new one that comes with probation! I just spoke with Alex—he made it clear I won’t survive the four weeks!

Nessa: What? Is that even legal?

Me: I signed it like that back then. Fuck. I thought Mr. Blackthorn would be here forever, and his successor would bedepartment heads, a shareholder, or someone from the board. Maybe even an external manager.That would’ve been easy. But this? Alex hates me!

Nessa: Is there anything I can do?

Me: No… unfortunately not. I have to show this idiot around and somehow get on his good side, so he’ll keep me on. I don’t want a new job—even if the severance is generous. I love it here.

Nessa: Hang in there. Please let me know if anything happens, okay?

I sigh, hide my phone in my handbag, and take it with me back to the luxury lounge where Alexander is waiting. I knock, deciding to grovel. He doesn’t need to know I’m just putting on a show. The main thing is I don’t lose my job.

When he calls me in, I open the door. He rises and comes toward me, but I close the door and stay by it, taking the chance to be alone with him. He watches me skeptically.

“I want to be honest,” I begin my lie, silently thanking Mrs. Smith for forcing me into theater class back in school. For almost two years I was on school stages—sometimes a raven, sometimes an impatient princess, once a saleswoman throwing a head of lettuce. “I haven’t behaved particularly well toward you, Alexander.” Addressing him informally feels so wrong.

He lifts his head slightly, observing me without expression. A man like him is surely used to submission. Maybe this will please him. Maybe I still have a chance.

“I assume this is going to be an apology?”

“Indeed.” I clear my throat, trying to act like this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. “I can be a little hot-headed sometimes. Unfortunately, that gets me into trouble now and then, but I’m working on it.”

He nods once, taking a few steps without breaking eye contact.