Page 13 of The Boss Problem

How had I not seen him before? I’d thought I’d met most of the people in the venture capital company that had boughtMindwell. All three of them. Was there a fourth partner? The one who would actually step into Gary Chalk’s shoes? No wonder he could walk in and demand to speak to me. No wonder Edith, the HR lead, had just given in to his demands.

I needed a second to think because things weren’t adding up. I sat back down in my seat, taking the weight off my aching foot. I hated myself just a little bit. I hated myself for the dreams I’d had of him, for painting him as a nice, kind soul. The sort of guy who reached protectively for your hand while you crossed the road together.

Going by the irritation in his eyes and the clenched jaw, Sean Tassater was not the hand-holding kind of guy. I could see his fingers curl into a fist as though he wanted to punch the nearest wall.

He had been so nice when I met him before, butthiswas how he was at work.

“I’m Gary Chalk’s executive assistant. Well, I was at least,” I said. “Chloe Nichols.”

When I said that, he groaned and turned away, running his hand through his hair once in frustration.

What did I do wrong?

“Mr. Chalk left quite abruptly,” I explained. “And he didn’t give me any instructions before he took off. I’ve been feeling quite invisible until Ms. Simons acknowledged me and my presence even if she really was discussing my severance package.”

He looked at me as though he had an even angrier retort on his lips when something stopped him.

“Is that yours?” he demanded when he saw the cardboard box next to me.

I nodded. “These are all my things,” I said, hesitating.

It wasn’t much. My favorite notepad, gifted to me by Henry; a new pen, something Henry and I had purchased at thehospital gift shop during his last appointment; and Henry’s daily schedule. I used to have a photo of Bruce and me, but I’d thrown it away since the breakup.

Mr. Tassater shut his mouth, and with a vexed look at me, he cursed under his breath. His gaze fell on the paper detailing the severance package I was to receive—two weeks’ pay and references—and then back at me.

“You can’t work here,” he said instantly. Far too instantly for my liking. “Excuse me,” he said, striding toward the door where Edith waited just outside.

I saw the woman’s eyes widen with fear as he approached.

6

SEAN

My frustration with Edith and, more importantly, Gary Chalk was on my mind as I walked out of that room. If only Gary Chalk had taken care of Chloe. Taken her along with him to his next venture perhaps. Or even—and I hated myself for even entertaining the thought—fired her before the acquisition, then I wouldn’t need to sort out this mess.

But all thoughts about Gary disappeared when my gaze stayed on her through the glass window in the wall. She was sitting by the table again. She had gotten a haircut in the six weeks since we’d met. Her hair was short now, and it suited her even more. She was darn pretty all right. She had azure-blue eyes, flecked with gold, and a sprinkling of freckles on her nose. Even those eyes hadn’t dulled in the aftermath of discussing the termination of her employment.

She was surveying the termination papers in front of her with a vulnerable look on her face. A look that stirred something primal in me. A damn frustrating desire to protect something or someone.

I shook my head.No, no, no.

I’d had a moment of weakness at the café six weeks ago. Telling her personal details about my failed relationship and laying bare one of my bigger wounds. In hindsight, it was more than embarrassing. I didn’t want a woman at work who had seen me be weak and emotional. I’d shared personal details with Chloe, things an employee shouldn’t really be privy to, and it couldn’t be a professional relationship when she knew the exact words my ex had said to me.

I threw my shoulders back, reminding myself of how unmoved I’d been at various points in my life. My first failed business venture, my dad’s death, and my divorce. I wasn’t one to be swayed by the trivial trembling of a woman’s lips. I hadn’t been swayed in the past, and I wasn’t about to start now. Even with lips as red as full-bodied wine. Mom had taught me emotions were worthless, and it was the only thing I’d learned from her.

I found Edith waiting for me, and aware that her office was just down the hallway, I asked, “Can we step into your office?”

She nodded with obvious reluctance, and hobbling on her broken pump, she led the way. In a minute, I entered Edith’s office, where she reached for the gym bag in the corner, from which she dug out sneakers. While she swapped shoes, I looked around.

The rest of her office was decorated simply with a potted azalea on the floor and a single purple orchid on her table. It was sparse—exactly how I’d encouraged all my employees to keep their offices. No unnecessary family photographs or memorabilia to distract them.

Edith was a model employee, and I ought to cut her some slack even if she did often—sometimes rightfully—bring up her concerns about my personal life interfering with my professional one.

Like picking up Lucas from his games or school, which was sometimes a last-minute request from Helen. I’d had to scramble during meetings to call the nanny, delaying our meetings in the process.

Her shoes finally on, she gestured for me to take a seat. The last time I had been here, I’d brought up a request—reasonable, I was sure—of hiring a company mascot. I’d wanted a tiger—fierce but loyal—to represent our company, but Edith had quietly fought back on that, citing resource issues, and suggested getting a parrot instead. Needless to say, I had not appreciated it or given her the go-ahead. This time, I didn’t wait to let her speak.

“Before we fire Chloe, I wanted to ask you one last time, isn’t there any other job we can find her? Dave Walker, our CFO, I bet he could use an assistant.”

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