Page 161 of Boss of Me
“I hope you don’t mind that Gunner gave me your number,” she said. “As I told him, I truly enjoyed meeting you at the art opening last month. I was impressed with your viewpoints and the depth of your knowledge, and I’d like you to come work for me. I run an international organization called the Halifax Music Society. We’re in dire need of a dedicated librarian to serve our members and administer our fellowship program. I know you’re in grad school, so we can work around your schedule. I might not be able to match the salary Gunner was paying you, but Ican provide an enriching experience with room for growth and many opportunities to indulge your love of music. I’d also like to mentor you, if you’re open to learning.”
Even though Lilith insisted otherwise, I suspected Gunner had orchestrated the generous job offer. But I couldn’t prove it, and I was undeniably drawn to the prospect of working for such a dynamic woman. So I took only a day to consider her offer before accepting.
I started the new job the following week, and so far so good. I enjoy interacting with the organization’s members, answering their questions and helping them find the materials they’re looking for. Next spring Lilith and I are traveling to Austria to meet with the curator of a rare classical music collection. We’re also attending a concert at the Vienna Philharmonic, which ranks near the top of my bucket list.
While my professional life is on the upswing, my personal life is in shambles. Between work and school, my days have settled into a numbingly busy but predictable routine. I come home every evening and change into comfy sweats, pour a glass of wine and tackle my coursework, occasionally watching something mindless on Netflix. Dinner is always an afterthought, and sometimes I don’t even bother.
Quinn has been a wonderful sounding board, letting me cry on her shoulder or just listening to me vent about damaged alpha males. She tries to lure me out of the doldrums by inviting me to hang out with her and Eric. But I don’t want to be a third wheel, and my energy reserves are so low, the thought of putting on a cute outfit and going to a club makes me want to curl up in a ball.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Gunner out of my head. Every time my phone rings, I hope it’s him and I can’t breathe. Every time I think of him moving on with someone else, I feel sick to my stomach.
I miss him so much. I miss the sound of his voice and the sexy rumble of his laughter. I miss hearing him call me kitten and smartass. I miss his mouthwatering scent and the heat of his skin. I miss being pulled onto his lap to cuddle and kiss. I miss our deep intellectual conversations, the way we probed and fed each other’s minds. I miss his fierce lovemaking, the powerful thrust of his hips as he drove into me, working my body into a frenzy until I exploded.
I miss him beyond words. Almost beyond bearing.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who’s miserable. Sansa has been moping around like she lost her best friend. Though I bought her new toys and tried to replicate Mrs. Calder’s recipes, she doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite—for food or sport.
“You can’t really blame her,” Quinn remarks one day. “She went from having the run of a palace to being banished to a nine-hundred-square-foot apartment. She probably feels like a dethroned queen reduced to living in squalor.”
When Sansa meows plaintively and butts her head against Quinn’s leg, she gives me a rueful look. “See? She agrees with my diagnosis.”
As if I weren’t wallowing in enough self-pity, Sansa’s depression makes me feel like the worst cat parent in the world.
If my cramped abode isn’t good enough for my beloved kitty, it definitely won’t pass muster with my mother. Which is why I insist on meeting her and my sister at their hotel when they come to town the following weekend.
Mom booked the congressional suite at the Four Seasons. I agreed to pack an overnight bag and crash at the hotel while Quinn stays with Sansa. She knows my mother’s visit has the potential to devolve into a shitshow, so she’s relieved to be spared the drama.
On Friday morning, I drive to the hotel in the new silver Audi I bought with part of my severance check. Gunner paidme through the next nine months to complete what would have been a full year of employment. I wasn’t expecting the additional funds, and my jaw dropped when I saw the amount. Gripping the check in my shaking hands, I felt a complicated tangle of sadness, gratitude, anger and humiliation. It was as though I’d outlived my usefulness to him, so he’d kicked me to the curb and tossed me some extra coins for my trouble.
My hurt and anger motivated me to splurge on a more expensive car than I normally would’ve considered. I figured if I’m going to be dumped by a billionaire, I might as well get an Audi out of it.
Reaching the luxury hotel, I valet park and take the elevator to my family’s suite on the ninth floor.
Ember opens the door and wraps me up in the longest, tightest, most loving hug ever. By the time she releases me, I’m choking back tears.
“Wow, what a greeting,” I try to joke.
She strokes my cheek, her eyes full of compassion. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Work has been?—”
“Crazy, I know. It’s okay,” I assure her with a watery smile. “You’re a busy lawyer. I’m just glad you came.”
She pulls me inside and closes the door. “I wish I could’ve come alone?—”
“I heard that,” our mother says, emerging from her room. She gasps in shock when she sees me. “My goodness, you’ve lost so much weight!”
I force my lips into a facsimile of a smile. “Hello, Mother.”
“Oh, darling.” She gives me a perfunctory hug and an air kiss before pulling back. She lets her gaze run over me, then meets my eyes and shakes her head. “You poor thing. You’ve been too depressed to eat, haven’t you? I suppose that’s one benefit of getting dumped.”
“Don’t start,” Ember warns sharply. “Don’t you dare start.”
“I’m just making an observation. She looks thinner than I’ve seen her in years. It’s a compliment,” Mom assures me, patting my shoulder.
Her highlighted blond hair is a cascade of perfectly sculpted waves. Her bold red lipstick offsets her green eyes and creamy complexion.
While Ember wheels my bag to the bedroom we’re sharing, Mom continues inspecting me for defects, which she always finds.
“Your hair needs deep conditioning. And when was your last trim?”
