Page 61 of Snowed In with the Bosses

CLARA

I’d experienced every single emotion in a matter of days. By sunrise on the third day, I shuffled into my kitchen, straight over to the table, and sank into a chair. It took too much effort to move any further, so I rested my crossed forearms on the table and dropped my forehead to rest on them. What now? I’d opened my laptop last night long enough to scour the industry pages in hopes of finding another place that might hire me. I still had a few months I could work as long as I was careful and took my time.

“We’re going to be okay.” I talked to my belly, the three babies growing there creating a need to protect. Mom told me it would happen, and while I’d loved them since I first saw them on the little ultrasound machine, this feeling overwhelmed me in a way that pushed aside everything else. We’d created our own little world, me, the babies, and my guys. It was a world that crumbled in a day, an empire crushed beneath the heel of a company of men whose vision didn’t reach the end of their noses.

My phone remained silent except for calls and texts from Mom. My work email was already deactivated, my access to theapps cut off. I’d received a single text from all three men at intervals throughout that first day. They said they understood my request and they would give me time. They made no promises beyond that. I had no idea if I should feel grateful, relieved, or furious that they gave in so easily. It was a fucked-up situation. I’d asked for space. I craved the peace and quiet of my own home to sort through my future.

But a part of me wished they’d come banging on the door and demand I let them in. How screwed up was that?

A single, merry jingle pierced the quiet. I raised my head and stared groggily at the phone across from me. Harrington’s name flashed across the screen. “Fuck.” Had anyone told him? Our next meeting was scheduled for tomorrow. Maybe they were waiting to reveal our subterfuge. The call rolled to voicemail. I waited, holding my breath, until the buzz announced he’d left me a message. A split second later, the phone lit up again with Harrington’s name. “What the hell.” I snatched the phone up and swiped. “Hello, Mr. Harrington.”

“Ah, Clara. I was afraid you’d keep avoiding me. Good to hear your voice, kid.” His rich laugh was a welcoming sound.

I sniffed back the tears always on the cusp of falling. “Thank you, sir.” I hesitated. “Have you spoken to Mr. Thorne?” Alexander’s formal name felt wrong on my lips. He’d stopped being anything other thanminemonths ago. Still, I kept up the facade in hopes that Harrington had no clue of what transpired between us.

“Oh sure. Him, Ethan, Liam, and I all had a very enlightening conversation yesterday.” He barged on while I struggled to keep up. “I wondered if you’d have lunch with me.”

“Lunch?” Oh God. Was he one of those men who thought I’d fall in his lap now that he knew I’d been with the others? My throat worked, but no sound came out.

Harrington chuckled, and the sound had a fatherly blend to it that waylaid my fears. “Yes, lunch. I’d like to discuss the project with you, but in person. I have a reservation at Italian Palace for noon. Meet me if you can. Bring whomever you like if you’re feeling uncomfortable about meeting with me. I understand there was an issue with a man at your workplace. Terrible business, that. But I hope you don’t consider me in the same vein as that filth.”

“No, sir.” Thinking back over all our encounters, I realized that Harrington was the epitome of a gentleman. He’d never once given me creepy vibes, and from all that I understood about him, he was a happily married man. Not that it stopped some men. “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. I look forward to our discussion.” He ended the call.

I’d learned not to take offense to Harrington’s abrupt departures from phone conversations. I’d heard him say goodbye twice in all the months we’d worked together. Lowering the phone to the table, I cupped my chin in my palms and stared at my kitchen. It was the same as always. A few more dirty dishes sat in the sink waiting to be washed. The box of tea I’d opened yesterday hadn’t been put away. A cabinet door hung open, the pots and pans threatening to fall out at a moment’s notice. My stomach rippled with movement. “Easy, baby.” I patted the lump poking out to the right side. “I need a little more time to get ready for you. All three of you. And I need to get ready for this meeting.”

What had Alexander told Harrington? Should I call him and ask? I hesitated, my hand hovering over the phone. No. I’d asked for time, and I was used to doing things on my own. Harrington wanted to meet with me, not them.

I’d learned to give myself extra time to shower and dress. Having three babies wrestling for space in my belly made everytask harder, and I’d rather not face Harrington sweaty and disheveled.

I walked into Italian Palace with five minutes to spare and found Harrington standing beside the door with his hands folded in front of him and a wide smile making dents in his cheeks. He thrust a hand in my direction, shaking it heartily. “Our table is this way.” He walked beside me, a kind expression warming his eyes. “Congratulations on your pregnancy. Wonderful thing, children.” He pulled out a chair for me and scooted it just so as I sat.

Italian Palace was the kind of place that excelled in their cuisine but failed at decor. Bright lights cast glares on the tabletops, and the gold chandeliers looked more gaudy than chic. They’d opted for tables and no booths, which should have classed up the place, but then they covered the tables with a bright cherry-red paint.

“Thank you.” Food filled the table in front of me. Rich aromas tantalized my taste buds and made my mouth water. I shook out my napkin and placed it in my lap. Harrington made himself known for these lunch meetings, and I had no qualms about adding food to my plate and eating as we talked. The nerves flipping my stomach were an issue I contended with as my children decided to do what felt like cartwheels on my bladder.

“I’ll get right to the point. No sense in beating around the bush and putting you through any discomfort.” He steepled his fingers together and tapped them to his lips. “I want you to continue on my project.”

I froze, my hand in midair as I reached for the plate of chicken primavera. “What?” I’d heard him wrong. That was the only explanation that made sense.

His warm grin turned full-blown. “Your vision is exactly what I wanted on this. You have valuable insight into the communityand its needs, and you’re not afraid to call bullshit when I try to pack too much into a single space.”

Yes, I had done that when he tried to convince me that a fruit bar, a yoga studio, and a pool with an attached lounge would be a good addition to the roof. I’d convinced him to opt for a garden where the renters could grow flowers and vegetables instead, contributing to the farmer’s market idea we’d led with in the beginning when he mentioned local produce.

“Not to mention your style.” He piled ravioli and breadsticks onto his plate. “You have an artist’s touch, and this whole thing would be a geometric nightmare if not for your input.”

“Th-thank you.” I took a bite to give myself time to think.

Harrington lowered his fork to his plate. “It’s a terrible mess they’ve made at Summit. You have my sympathies, but that’s not to say I’m disappointed so long as I can keep working with you. There’s a place for you at my company if that helps.”

Did it? I took my time chewing and examined the situation. Did I want to work for Harrington? The little I’d heard about his company was good. The thought of going back into a business corporation where I could be chopped out of a job at a moment’s notice left a sour taste in my mouth. I took another bite to get rid of the hateful flavor.

Harrington waited while enjoying his meal. He would be a good boss. He possessed the kind of patience that employees would flock to, but what about his conservative nature? I bit down hard on a garlicky breadstick. When he found out the true nature of my dalliance with three men at the same time, I could kiss another job goodbye.

Never again. It wasn’t worth being under the thumb of a corporation, at the whim and mercy of their rules and stifling regulations. Plus, there was always the petty jealousy, office gossip, and scrutiny that came with climbing the corporate ladder. No thanks. I’d had my fill of that too.

Mom raised a fighter, and this was my chance to take a stand for what I really wanted.

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