Page 137 of The Boss Problem

I could hear the surprise in my voice when I said, “Come on in!”

Greg took one hesitant step in. “I heard Henry was graduating soon …” His voice trailed off as he stared at me. “Are you headed out somewhere?”

I grinned as I nodded. “Yes. I passed the PMP exam, and there’s a small, informal event where I’ll finally get my certificate,” I announced. “If you’d like to speak to Henry, he’s in his room.”

Greg gave me a thumbs-up and stepped back, making room for me to walk out the door. “Go, go,” he said.

“Bye, Greg. I’ll be back soon!” I promised, stepping around him.

“Here,” Greg said after a moment’s hesitation. He took out one balloon and handed it to me. “I think you deserve it too.”

I grinned, taking it. “Thank you.”

In my dress and with my balloon in hand, I took the subway to the college where I’d taken my PMP certification course.

I got a few curious looks from the passengers as I got out of the train with my balloon, and as I skipped up the steps into the sunlight, I took a deep breath. I was learning to stand up for myself, and it felt oddly liberating.

It was a few minutes before six p.m. when I finally reached the college auditorium.

About a hundred fold-out chairs occupied the center of the auditorium, almost filled with students and their partners. The auditorium was huge, and I looked around it with some awe. At the far end of the auditorium was the university banner in gold and blue. And a podium for the speakers. My classmates waited in one line, and I walked toward them.

All around me was the excited chatter of my fellow students and their proud families. It was a mid-sized room that the program coordinators had gotten for us and other continuing education students who were here to mingle and meet one last time. Our certificates would be mailed to us, so there really wasn’t much to do here, but another classmate had informed me that the dean would still show up and call each of us on the stage briefly just to acknowledge our achievement.

Everyone was all smiles, and I spent the first half an hour laughing and talking just as the lights dimmed and the dean prepared to come onto the stage.

I was still holding on to my balloon when the man I was talking to drew in his breath and asked, “Who is that?”

He inclined his head toward the double doors of the auditorium, and I turned. What I saw made my heart leap. Wearing his trademark frown, one that was not as intense as it had been in the past, Sean swept into the room. Next to him, in his wheelchair, was Henry.

That scoundrel.Thiswas what he’d been planning all along.

Henry had a grin on his face as he scanned the room.

Tall and authoritative, Sean stood by the door, and his deep voice reached me as he spoke to some people next to him.

One month—it had only been one month since we had last met, but seeing him here sent me reeling with shock. His face was serious, and he was dressed in his familiar navy-blue suit. I controlled the nerves that spread like fire in my belly.

“No way,” I breathed out while people shifted in the line next to me.What is Sean doing here?

His deep brown hair was thick and slicked back, and he looked arrestingly handsome. Going by how a few other women were giving him looks over their shoulders, he wasn’t missing out on any attention.

He scoured the crowd, his gaze searching, when Henry tapped him on the arm and pointed to a line of students. My line.

I turned around before Sean could spot me, my heart hammering in my chest. To my right, I saw an abrupt movement as the dean finally made an appearance. He walked up to Sean with an outstretched hand, looking surprised by his presence.

Sean gave the dean a brief nod before clapping him on the back and muttering a few words before walking right over to me.The dean stared, open-mouthed, at Sean’s back, at his abrupt dismissal as Sean approached me.

He strode up, and his cologne, intense and musky, reached me. The man in front of me coughed and made room as Sean approached.

“Chloe,” Sean said when he came to a stop next to me.

I let the balloon go, and it floated up to the roof. “You’re here?” I asked, putting my hand out on the wall next to us as I steadied myself.

I’d thought I was prepared to see him, but it still felt unreal. I wasn’t seeing things. It really was him.

“Henry told me you passed your exam,” he said. He looked around the room decorated in the college’s colors. “And that you finally had a reason to celebrate your hard work. So, of course, I’d be here.”

I nodded, feeling overwhelmed by his concern for me even though we’d broken up. He trulywasa good person.

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