Page 102 of The Boss Problem

“Yes. Dad visibly struggled at his job because of how much the divorce affected him. He … developed an alcohol problem, which thankfully didn’t get out of hand. He recognized it soon enough when I started to hide the bottles from him, and he promised to do better. But I could see how miserable he was without Mom. In addition, he gave up socializing and lost most of his friends. It was like being pushed into a life of isolation. It was hard for him to start over again, to make brand-new friends. When he died at sixty, he had never regained the happiness he had before she left. It was as though Mom had stolen that from him when she cheated on him.”

I reached for his hand, and my eyes were moist. “I’m sorry, Sean. That must have been hard to witness.”

He nodded. “You know what hurt the most? How nice Dad was. Before he passed away, he asked if I could find it in me to forgive her. He harbored no anger toward her. He always wanted to help people—including the people who had hurt him. I think I’m mad at my mom for hurting him because I’ve never seen someone so kind …” He paused. “Until I met you.”

I shook my head, blinking away the sadness. “Nonsense,” I uttered. “I’m a horrible person. Just you wait and watch.”

He laughed, but gave me a look that seemed very intimate. As though he knew me to be better than that.

It made me shiver, these knowing looks, combined with the sparks of attraction between us. I shouldn’t feel these things if we were strictly sexual. I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, why I touched him every chance I got.

I linked my fingers with his while we waited for dessert, staring into his eyes as he opened up more about his childhood. The night was fantastic, and it wasn’t because of the private jet or the luxury restaurant.

It was because of Sean.

After dinner, Sean took me for a walk. We had a beautiful view of Arlington Memorial Bridge, all lit up at night, with the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument in the distance. I’d never seen them before, and with Sean, it had happened in a few hours.

It was closer to nine p.m., and the cool breeze gently whipped my hair around as we strolled about like people without a care. Sean’s hand was in mine, and all was right in the world.

I remembered the last time I’d felt this light and carefree. It was back in high school, in the days before Henry’s accident. Before Dad left us. Now, I was twenty-eight, but I felt like I was much older. I felt like I weighed and considered things more gravely than anyone needed to at twenty-eight.

Who considered tricking their dad into attending his son’s graduation ceremony? What kind of woman lied to her brother about their dad’s reason for leaving them? And lied about her dating life?

“What are you thinking about?” Sean asked, lifting a wisp of hair and tucking it behind my ear before he turned me around to face him. We were leaning against the railing of the view spot, our coats flapping in the breeze, and except for a younger couple, we were alone. “Is something the matter?” His voice was tender, and the concern in his tone almost did me in.

I blinked rapidly, hoping I wouldn’t start bawling right this minute.Please, let me save it for when I’m home.

“All evening long, I have been apprehensive. And guilty because I had to turn down Henry’s request. But now, I feel likeCinderella,” I whispered, looking at him. “Because I’ve enjoyed this one fabulous night, something I never dreamed about.”

He’d shown me a life completely unlike mine, and I was grateful for it. But I also knew that the metaphorical clock would strike twelve soon. I couldn’t predict how many dates it would take for Sean to get this fling out of his system, but it didn’t stop me from trying to. I felt the onset of abandonment like a nervous itch, the longer I spent time with him. It was hard-wired in me now.

His dark eyes flashed. “It’s not just one night, Chloe,” he said, running his hand through my hair as he tilted my face up to his.

It wasn’t just one night perhaps, but this would end soon, even though I didn’t want to think of that. Sean was unpacking my emotions, bit by bit, letting them out of the cage I’d kept them guarded in. And it wasn’t just him who had to deal with what came out; I did too.

He bent down, his lips brushing against mine. The strokes were soft, light, teasing. He took his time, savoring me, sending me reeling with sensations.

When we broke apart, my head was spinning. His arms circled my waist, and he held me against him as I rested my head on his chest. How could he kiss me like this and still believe this was only physical? Every time he kissed me, something stirred in my chest. Emotions that I hadn’t expected to feel for him. Missing him when he was away, longing to see his smile or the glint in his eye when he passed by my work desk. Anticipation, the buildup, followed by a painfully sweet release, knowing it would be a while before I could be with him again.

I was getting something good in my life, finally, and in my experience, good things never stayed.

If someone good accidentally came my way, they would soon realize how broken I was and leave. Because good attracted moregood, whereas broken people attracted the kind of people who could ruin you for life.

Sometimes, I wished it weren’t me who lived this life. That I could get to be someone else just for a day. To live the carefree life of a twenty-eight-year-old without having to worry over a younger sibling. And then I’d hate myself for thinking those thoughts when, in reality, I should be fiercely proud of Henry. I’d tell myself not to feel what I was feeling, so often that I’d distance myself from emotions. I’d found happiness in scheduling, in logistics, and conversations that kept uncomfortable emotions out of the way.

But now, I wanted Sean. I wanted the little efforts he went through to make me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. Not his things. Just his affection and his time.

But from Sean’s own words before, he had very little of both to give.

I faked a laugh, sliding my hands up his shoulders and clasping my fingers behind his neck. “I’m used to normal things, Sean. I don’t need to feel special.”

His eyes flashed with desire. Sean wanted me. That was obvious. I lived for moments like this. Where I felt like I was the only woman in the world and Sean was completely consumed by his lust for me.

“I disagree,” he said. “But first, I’ve got something to show you. Come on.”

46

CHLOE

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