Page 16 of The Boss Problem

We stood in front of each other, silent and unmoving. I felt a strange sensation, almost like a warning for the days coming up.

“I’m not called a monster of a boss for nothing, Chloe,” I said at last, an unfamiliar emotion creeping up on me.What have I gotten myself into?

“I’ve dealt with a lot of monsters,” she responded, scanning my face, as though searching for a sign of one.

Has she found it?

“So, I’ll take my chances.”

8

CHLOE

The morning of my first day of work began before dawn.

I opened my eyes to see the morning light seeping through the faded curtains. I stretched, my fingers grazing the old headboard, and rose from my ancient bed—a solid find from the estate sale of a rich, old family.

I was making my bed, looking out the window, when I noticed that the apartment’s trash bins were still out on the street. Crossing over to read the schedule on the wall by my bed, I saw that it was Greg Clemson’s turn to bring in the trash bins.

Our apartment building, The Halcyon, had a scheduled rotation for different residents to bring the bins in from the street. Most days, it worked like clockwork. But Greg—a new resident—I noticed, struggled to leave his home for days on end and would forget to get the bins. Whenever it was his turn, usually, one of the neighbors would pound on his door to yell at him to do his share, which disturbed Greg even more.

I thought back to how Sean had given me one more chance last Friday. A chance that gave me one more attempt at believing we lived in a fairer world than it really was. Everyone deservedthat chance. Pulling on my jacket, I stepped out into the early morning chill and brought the bins back to the trash room.

Dusting my hands off, I walked back indoors. I washed my hands, ready to start my day. I got dressed for work, searching through my closet for something appropriate to wear. Every few months, I’d go through my closet and donate the clothes I no longer wore, except for the faded black pancake tutu hanging on the right, the one that held memories of my good days of dancing. I didn’t have the heart to give that one away.

My first task of the day was to email Henry’s doctor to thank him for the new prescription for an off-brand medicine and let him know it was going well. I’d visited the pharmacy two days ago and realized I didn’t have the spare $397 for Henry’s pain medicines. The medicines meant that Henry could go longer without a need to visit the occupational therapist, and the doctor had reluctantly given us a cheaper one, which Henry had started taking last night.

My second email was to Mr. Tassater, and I paused when I began the email, wondering what I was going to say.

This is the café guy, I reminded myself. The one who’d been with me when my world with Bruce fell apart. I couldn’t believe I was working for him.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I felt my face go warm at the memory. How firmly he’d held me when I almost collapsed onto the ground. I’d seen traces of that last Friday too. He’d held my hand when Edith accidentally stubbed my toe and I was in pain.

I’d been so distracted by everything—losing my job and seeing Sean again—that I hadn’t had time to consider what I felt about working for him. On one hand, I felt grateful to him for how kind he’d been to me on both occasions. On the other hand, I wanted to steer as clear of him as I possibly could. Because I found that I did agree with the two women from the conference hall after all. Sean did look like a Greek god.

A shiver went down my neck as I remembered how I’d briefly felt the air crackle with chemistry when he looked at me. How my heart had lurched in my chest, as though I’d been searching desperately for the past six weeks for a second look at the man who had once comforted me. To prove to myself that he wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.

Well, I’d soon be not too many feet away from him once I reached work.

My face felt warm, and I took a few deep breaths. It didn’t matter how close Sean would be. I’d once abandoned Henry when he needed me, and karma, being the reliable bitch it was, had shown me exactly what it felt like to be abandoned—not once, but twice. First by Dad walking out and then by Bruce. There wasn’t going to be a next time because I didn’t trust myself to survive a third one. Where yet another man asked me to choose between him and Henry and my inevitable answer.

After taking a few deep breaths and exhaling slowly, I completed my email to Sean, letting him know that I was looking forward to working with him and thanking him for the opportunity.

I spent the next fifteen minutes at my desk, reading about Sean Tassater’s professional life—and stoutly ignoring his personal one—and his start in investing before he partnered with three other men at the Lead Capital Group, which took off. One detail stood out about Sean. While all the partners at Lead Capital had become incredibly wealthy, what set Sean apart from the others was the nonprofit he’d started. With it, he emphasized giving back to the local community and had credited his childhood friend with helping him come up with the idea.

The flutter that had been taking place in my heart now spread to my stomach, and I shut my computer. I didn’t need more reasons to admire him.

Instead, I turned my attention to my notes from a late-night call with Amelia. I’d need an hour to get Mr. Tassater’s morning schedule ready, which meant I ought to be getting ready right now.

A knock on my bedroom door broke me out of my thoughts.

“The dishwasher is broken again,” a sleepy-looking Henry announced when I opened the door.

I followed him through the corridor and into the kitchen, a sinking feeling settling in me. This was not the start I’d wanted for the first day of my new job.

We lived in an apartment where the sink would often overflow with wastewater due to plumbing issues and rodents would occasionally make their way in. We put up with it all because we were close to Henry’s college. But every so often, we’d have an unusual expense or setback, and I’d find myself wishing I made more money to afford a better place, that we weren’t living paycheck to paycheck. Like unexpected college expenses or broken appliances.

This was why I’d put up with working for Sean even if I’d have to calm my racing heart down a few hundred times a day. I needed him to keep me employed. I’d get immune to his good looks over time, I was sure.

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