Page 5 of Enchanting the CEO

"Well, as long as I'm in your hair, you will definitely get spoiled," I said.

I loved cooking, and my sister appreciated it. She always had. My mom had been sickly even when we were kids, so both of us had been on cooking duty for as long as I could remember. Celia disliked being in the kitchen, but I relished it. Creating something from scratch with my own hands was truly my thing.

She yawned, then asked me, "What are you doing today?"

"I have a tour in an hour. Then in the afternoon, I’ll unpack and apply for some jobs, but I'm also thinking about tutoring French. I found some online platforms where you can set up a profile and schedule sessions."

Her eyes widened. "You're a genius."

I smiled. "I just want to make the best use of my skills. I can tutor as a freelancer—and the best part is, I’d get the money right away.”

"I can lend you some money, sis."

I shook my head. "Don't even say it, okay?"

She bit the inside of her lip. "But I want to help. You're family."

"You're doing enough by letting me stay here."

We both fell silent as we devoured the breakfast.

"What did you think of Gabe?" she asked after a while.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, "Why did you never tell me that he’s basically the hottest man alive?"

"He seems friendly enough," I said instead, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"I know, right? I can't believe I'm lucky enough to work for him. Most of the time it feels like I'm working with him.”

I simply nodded, finishing off the pancakes. Mentioning how hot Gabe was would be akin to opening Pandora’s box. My sister would berate me and tell me to stay away from him.

As if.

I had enough on my plate as it was, and my heart was still covered in scars from the breakup.

After breakfast, Celia left for her job, and I left for mine as a tour guide with Boston Guided Tours. I’d been working here ever since I moved to the city.

I was heartbroken that they’d cut back my hours and I could only do it part-time. Soon enough, I wouldn’t be able to do it at all if I found another full-time job. Though maybe I could squeeze a few tours in during the weekends.

As I got on the bus, my phone lit up with a notification. My entire body tightened when I saw it was from my ex, Chuck.

Chuck: Did you take anything out of my storage?

I stared at the phone. Is he for real? He went off the grid for months, and now this? No "Hi, how are you?"

I wasn't even going to dignify his text with a response. My body was completely wound up, and I hated that he still had this effect on me. Every time I saw his name or thought about him, that wound opened up again.

I managed to shove Chuck Forrester to the back of my mind during the tour. Afterward, I spent my afternoon unpacking my boxes. Yesterday, I’d only opened one with kitchen utensils—my sister had next to nothing, and I needed them to prepare meals while I was here. I didn't have many belongings, which was a sad state of affairs for someone who was now the ripe old age of twenty-six.

I moved to Boston for Chuck, who'd promised me the moon and delivered nothing. I’d thought we were in love and marriage was in the future. I was wrong. But I didn’t regret moving here. I was happy to be closer to my sister and mom too. Our mom lived in Baltimore, less than a day’s drive away. But right now, my life was a mess.

Thank heavens Celia could help me out with her spare bedroom. It was tiny, but I was very happy with it. If she could have only put me up on the couch in the living room, I probably wouldn't have taken her offer. I knew she valued her alone time, and I wanted her to have her space.

After unpacking, I created an account on the tutoring platform, which took up the entire afternoon. I was beyond grateful that I'd taken accredited tests for my French because they qualified me for this job. I'd done that primarily so I could advertise it on my résumé, but it had benefited me in many different ways, and I was nothing if not flexible. "Richardsons don't give up" had always been our mother's motto, and it served me well.

After I set up the account, I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I felt restless, so I got dressed and went outside. It was a sunny April day, but I also grabbed a jacket because the weather was finnicky.

I loved Boston and couldn't be too mad at Chuck for jerking me around, as I probably would have never moved here otherwise. For better or for worse, I was glad that my journey had led me here, though I had hoped I’d be at a more stable point in my life by now.

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