Page 52 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
“I’d have an answer for you.”
“I know,” I play along, even though I’ve long forgotten what the point of the game was.
“Are you interpreting it right?”
“I did before you even knew the answer,” I tease, then step back. He studies me with an expression that’s equal parts curious and fascinated. And oh yeah, I like that.
Martha appears in the hallway outside Mr. Blackthorn’s office. A moment later Arthur follows. She slips her arm through his, and they approach us.
“Ready?” I ask Alexander, grabbing my bag.
“For mischief? Always.”
“That too.”
“What else?”
“It’s a secret.” We both laugh.
The four of us take the elevator down and as we exit the building, the first employees are already boarding the buses. Alexander walks me to my car because I want to grab my handbag from the trunk. He’s kind enough to carry it while my boss and his wife settle into the limo.
The small shuttle buses and taxis are already pulling out of the lot. Alexander stands by the open limo door and offers me his hand so I can step in gracefully. The moment we touch, an inexplicably intense warmth rushes through me. I freeze for a moment and look at him, wondering what’s happening to me.
Oh wow. This feels dangerously good.
Alexander’s eyes lock on mine, and I realize I’ve been staring at him far too long. I force a quick smile and slide inside, hoping he didn’t notice my odd reaction. He hands my bag to the driver, who places it in the trunk.
I sit across from Mrs. Blackthorn, and shortly after Alexander joins me, taking the seat at my side. The driver closes the door and circles to the front.
During the ride, Mrs. Blackthorn chats to her husband. She gushes about how he finally has more time for her, and how they can enjoy retirement together. But I can clearly see his mind is still tethered to the company. It’ll take time before he can fully embrace being just a husband emotionally—and at most, a consultant. For now, at least, he humors her, while Alexander sits silently, gazing out the window.
We’re among the first to reach the Country Inn. Here, outside of London, I pause a moment, taking in the peace and quiet, before the driver opens the door. Alexander steps out first, then his father. I let Mrs. Blackthorn go ahead, then climb out last. Once again, Alexander offers me his hand. I try not to let his warm touch unravel me, and head with him to the trunk, where the driver retrieves my bag. I take it.
“I’m curious what dress you brought,” Alexander says.
“A simple one,” I admit sheepishly, then gesture toward the courtyard. "So, how do you like it?"
Alexander studies the large three-story building, wrapped in greenery. Trees, shrubs, flower beds—it all feels inviting. And the weather couldn’t be more perfect.
We leave the paved path in the secluded parking lot and head toward the entrance. The ground changes to cobblestones, though they’re laid so evenly you could walk on them in high heels without worry.
“Makes a good impression,” he says.
“You probably thought we’d be celebrating in a luxury hotel, didn’t you?” I ask.
“Honestly, yeah. But I’m curious to see what the afternoon brings.”
We reach the reception area just outside the entrance. Standing tables draped in white tablecloths are set up, with chilled drinks, tea, and coffee already being served generously to the first guests.
“We’ve booked the entire inn. All the rooms are open if anyone wants to freshen up or change. You just grab a key and return it afterward.”
“Then I’ll see you soon?”
“I won’t be long,” I promise, stepping inside.
I like this rustic vibe. Everything’s heavy with wood, giving it a cozy, country look. The white-plastered walls are dotted with dried plants as decoration. Somehow—even that fits right in.
I take one of the room keys, seize the chance to freshen up, and change into the outfit I brought along. But while I’m turning back and forth in front of the mirror, I have the sudden urge to call my best friend.
