Page 25 of The Boss Problem

When I got to the Tassater building on the Upper East Side, I thanked my cab driver and got out and raced up the steps andinside the building. I waved to Charles, the security guard by the desk, and he waved back.

“You’re a hard worker, Ms. Nichols,” Charles said as I ran across the lobby to the elevators. “Let me know if you need me to find you a cab for your ride back.”

“Thanks, Charles,” I said, warming up to him as I got into the first elevator that opened. “You can call me Chloe. And I’ll take the subway back tonight, but I’ll let you know if that ever changes.”

“Take care, Chloe,” he said with a smile before the elevator doors shut.

The building was eerily quiet, a complete opposite to the bustle that pervaded this place in the daytime.

My head was a frenzy of thoughts as the elevator rode up, and I hoped I could drop the bag off at Sean’s office and leave right away. Hopefully without running into the man who had sent me on this fool’s errand.

It wasn’t the empty corridor I met when the doors opened on the thirty-fifth floor, but Mr. Tassater himself.

14

CHLOE

“You’re late,” was all he said when I walked out of the elevator and into the corridor. “I gave you an hour, and you took ninety minutes.”

I stopped a few feet from him and checked the time, cursing under my breath. He was right, the jerk.

I held the toy bags out, breathless and despairing. “Well, if you want to fire me now, go ahead. I have been cursing you all hourand a halfanyway, and I have a few more swear words up my sleeve,” I said, barely refraining from putting my hands on my knees and drawing deep breaths while he took the bags from my hands.

His gaze drifted to the bag and then back up at me. “Curses? For twenty Spider-Man figurines?” He seemed truly surprised.

“Yes, you oblivious jerk,” I said, straightening up. “You know what I’ve been through to get this for you? I visited ten shops and spent eight hundred fifty-seven dollars, and I almost had a tussle with two tourists to get one of these figurines before they could. You’d better reimburse me for this—and fast.”

I paused, taking a breath, but my rage didn’t dissipate. I was in no way done with him yet. “And since I assume I’m fired, I’mgoing to go ahead and ask, what does a grown man need these for, anyway? Is there a Spider-Man fetish I don’t know about?”

The elevator doors opened behind me, and a boy rushed out.

“Lucas, slow down,” Sean said sharply, his eyes tracking the boy who raced toward him.

A young boy, not more than seven, ran past me. He had brown hair, a small face, and a downturn to the edges of his lips.

Sean’s eyes were on me when I turned to him in surprise, and I could sense that he was evaluating my reaction.

What is a kid doing on this floor?

The boy’s eyes took in Sean in a rebellious question.

“Where is Mom?” he demanded. “What time is her plane landing?”

A young woman, quiet and subdued, walked up the steps, breathless. Her gaze went to Lucas, and she said faintly, “There you are,” before leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

Lucas paid her no attention, and I assumed she was his nanny.

Sean closed his eyes for a second, presumably steeling himself, before he took a step toward the boy. To my surprise, the boy immediately took a step back, distancing himself from Sean.

The look on Sean’s face was one of defeat when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Lucas, I didn’t tell you earlier. I didn’t want to ruin your day. But Mom’s not getting here for another month, son.”

Son.

Sean had a son.

I’d never expected that. I’d read up about his professional life, but stayed well away from other details. With wealthy men, you were better off not knowing, and I hadn’t wanted to taint my professional relationship with tidbits about his salacious affairs.

My attention went to the bag in his hands, and suddenly, the toys made sense. As I looked closer at Lucas, I saw he had the same straight hair that flopped over his forehead, that same upturned nose, and the same frown. They were father and son.

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