Page 5 of Unlocking my Boss's Heart

Her excited shriek came through the phone, making me flinch. “Hold tight, I’ll be down in a second!” she squealed, hanging up abruptly.

A man hurried down the steps and bumped into me as he rushed to hail a cab. I frowned. If this was Manhattan, how could I ever feel at home here? I couldn’t help but notice thestark contrast between this bustling city and the slow-paced, neighborly culture of Texas. Was I experiencing cultural shock in my own country?

I shook off the thought. I’d dreamt of moving to New York for years. A little stress from the move wasn’t going to deter me now. I couldn’t go back to my small-town life. This was the start of my new adventure.

I struggled up the building’s steps with my suitcase. As I reached the top, Maddison burst through the lobby door, her arms wide open. Her cinnamon scent enveloped me as she pulled me into a tight hug.

“Aww, my baby cousin, I’ve missed you!” she said, kissing my cheek.

“I missed you, too,” I managed, my ribs creaking under her embrace.

At that moment, all my stress and worries from moving halfway across the country washed away in the comfort of her arms. My duffel bag slid off my shoulder as I steadied myself. Maddison picked it up for me. Once we entered the foyer and closed the door, I got a good look at her.

Only a year older than me, we were about the same height and body type. But our coloring was different. I was blonde, she was brunette, and liked to dye her hair.

I fingered the length of her long, dark, wavy hair. “Love the color.”

“It’s okay, I guess.” She grinned, waving me in to follow her up to her apartment. “I liked the blue better, but the new dress code at work doesn’t allow for wild colors.” She rolled her eyes heavenward as she said the last words in a mocking tone.

As we took the stairs to the third floor, Maddison gave me specific instructions. I was to avoid the man with the constellation tattoo on his face, he begged for change to buy cigarettes. On Thursdays, all the dumpsters were full, so therewas no point in emptying the trash that day. Finally, if a woman named Mrs. Woods gifted me any baked items, I should bring them directly to Maddison to inspect.

I laughed at that last rule.

“Why? Does she poison them?” I ventured. I heard about people adding enhancing substances into brownies and things like that.

Maddison unlocked the door.

“No, she’s an older widow with too much time on her hands. And apparently an inexhaustible amount of flour. A slice of her apple pie is so good that I swear there's witchcraft involved.”

That answer gave me a hearty laugh.

She entered her apartment—now my apartment, too—and invited me inside with an exaggerated wave of her hand.

My eyes scanned the tiny living room, and I felt my face break into a smile. The place was smaller than I was used to back home, but cozy. I could see Maddison's hand in the peachy design. Each piece of furniture had her print on it. The two-seater couch was blue with little stars scattered over the fabric. A set of velvety pillows was plumped on one side, reminding me of the hair on the Troll Dolls we’d played with as kids.

I left the rolling suitcase behind and walked further in. The kitchen opposite the main door was tidy and small, the cupboards painted the same peach color as the wallpaper in the living room. Two tiny windows let in some much-needed natural light. Small plants littered the windowsills, the space above the kitchen cabinets, and the corners of the living room.

“Wow,” I said.

“Like it?” She chuckled, closing the front door behind her.

I nodded. “This place is so cute and inviting. You certainly know how to make a place your own.”

“Don’t tell me bull. I know our styles differed, but I thought you would like this.”

“Maddy, I really like it! And that’s the truth.”

“Thanks! I wanted it to feel like a little haven. It’s way smaller than your Texas ranch, but it’s homey.” Grabbing my hand, she led me down a short hallway. “Let me show you to your room.”

She opened the door on the left.

The room was small, matching the size of the apartment. A twin bed, a nightstand, and a short bookcase against one wall made up the space. The cream paint was spotless. There was a louvered closet door next to the bookshelves and a small window above the bed. The window boasted a view of the neighboring brick building. It would certainly be an adjustment from the wide-open view I was used to.

“See? A blank canvas,” Maddison said, making me laugh. She walked to the window. “I hope the fresh paint smell isn’t too much, I thought the color might brighten things up a bit.”

“It’s actually perfect. It gives the room a warm, inviting feel.”

She picked up a small planter sitting on the windowsill and held it out. A tiny succulent was inside the pot. “His name is Frederick,” she said.

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