Page 40 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

Garamond shakes his head. “It’s pathetic, really, but let’s talk about why I’m really here.”

Finally.

But my relief only lasts a millisecond as Garamond turns to me, “So, I wanna hear everything about your love life, little bro. Michelle tells me you’re still single.”

“That’s not really a topic for the dinner table, especially not for Michelle’s ears...or Chloe’s.”

Michelle, quick as a whip, chimes in, “Oh, don’t mind me, Dad. I’m all ears, and you should know, that if you’re ready to move on, I’d totally understand.”

It only lasts a second, but my eyes don’t miss Michelle’s darting to Chloe. That’s when I realize what this meet-up is about. This dinner, under the guise of business discussions and family reunion, is a setup – a matchmaking attempt where Michelle has taken over Cupid’s role. But Michelle, bless her heart, couldn’t have chosen a more mismatched pair, even if she tried.

“Life, you see,” Garamond begins, “Isn’t meant to be spent in the shadows of the past. It’s too short, and every moment you spend wallowing in what was is a moment you steal from what could be.”

I squirm in my seat, feeling like a kid called into the principal’s office. His well-meaning words feel like weights on my shoulders.

“You gotta let yourself live a little, bro. Take a chance on happiness. What happened was quite unfortunate, but you can’t keep yourself locked away from the world because of it. For example, what are those snacks you love again? Chocolate espresso beans?”

“They were Mom’s favorite, too,” Michelle mumbles. “He won’t even look at them anymore because he feels like he’s betraying Mom. It reminds him of her too much.”

A bead of sweat trickles down my spine despite the air-conditioning working at full capacity, and I dare glance at Chloe. Her eyes are on me, wide with shock, but once they connect with mine, she quickly masks it with a nonchalant shrug.

“Who knows, Dad? Maybe that special someone is closer than you think,” Michelle says, winking at me.

Oh, boy.

“I think it’s best we call it a night.” I stand up abruptly. This is not how I planned this evening to go.

“What? Why? Our order isn’t even ready yet!” Garamond protests.

“We can do this again another night soon. I forgot I have to prepare for an important meeting in the morning,” I declare, leaving no room for argument. “Michelle, come on. I’ll call Chloe an Uber.”

Leaving the dinner behind was a relief, but it wasn’t a ruse…not completely, at least. I couldn’t take much more of the romantic life questions, especially with Chloe around. Yet, for some reason, I find myself looking for her, wondering what she’s doing.

Why? I threatened to fire her for walking on thin ice and for daring to speak to me in that tone, yet she’s still here. Despite my irritation, I can't deny there's something about her that keeps drawing me in. Her resilience, her spark, the way she stands up to me when no one else does—it’s maddening and intriguing all at once.

Maybe Michelle is on to something, and I just keep making things harder by pushing Chloe away.

***

Everything is business as usual at the office. I walk into the boardroom, where my team is already waiting. Chloe is there too, her gaze carefully averted.

We all settle in, and without delay, the meeting starts. “Let’s first revisit the figures from the last quarter,” I begin. “The revenue projections were off by 1.7%, which may not be significant in the grand scheme, but as we all know, accuracy is key, especially if we have to make up for those losses this quarter.”

Nods of agreement follow my critique, but I find myself wondering if Chloe’s head bounced along with the others, even as I deliberately act like she isn’t sitting next to me.

“Bottom line is, we need smarter forecasting and better sales and marketing strategies,” I explain. “Now, I’ll hand it over to Jonathan Hale to dig deeper on these strategies.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Jonathan says, walking up to the front of the room as I lean back into my seat. “Today, I want us to focus on our upcoming campaign to revamp our flagship magazine, Prestige Pulse.”

Again, I feel Chloe’s eyes on me. She must have been shocked since I told her that I was discontinuing the magazine, and now I feel stupid that I can’t find any reason for my decision to continue, other than Chloe’s reaction that day. She seemed so upset, and I hated myself for even noticing. There has to be another reason I listened to her ideas. I don’t care about her feelings enough to let it affect my business decisions…right?

Jonathan continues, “Our target demography is shifting, and we’ve identified the opportunity to capture the 18 – 24 age bracket…”

Jonathan’s voice trails off as the lights go out and the PowerPoint comes on. I dare to seize the opportunity. Chloe isn’t smiling. She’s been a fortress since the fallout in my office – minus last night’s awkward dinner. Her laughter is locked away, at least from me as far as I can tell. I catch my gaze lingering on her, but quickly rip it off, wary of how others might perceive it.

All of these thoughts and questions. The entire situation is maddening, really.

I’m Daniel Andrews, the man at the helm. Why should I even care that I’m the only one in the entire office that Chloe is walled off from? Just yesterday, during working hours, I heard her laughter echoing throughout the office and full of life that it made my office feel like a tomb.

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