Page 19 of Boss Me Not

I pushed through the door of the hotel and made my way to Wyatt’s office. I’d stash the chocolates in there until the luncheon. At least I knew no one would get into them.

I came out and found Steven behind the check-in counter. He picked up an envelope and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, turning it over.

“It’s from Wyatt.”

If it was another letter, I might scream. And poor Steven didn’t need that, so I stepped away to open it.

What the heck? It wasn’t a letter. It was a gift certificate to the spa in town. For an outrageous amount too. At the bottom was a note.

Take Wednesday off.Made you an appointment at 11a.m.

I’d hadtons of shitty boyfriends. Bosses too. None of them would have ever thought to give me a gift card to a spa. Shaking my head, I put the paper back in the envelope and pulled out my phone.

Me:Thank you for the gift, but I can’t accept it. You need to let this go. I don’t need an “I’m sorry for kissing you” gift.

Wyatt: It’s for Employee Appreciation Day. Since you organized the luncheon, I wanted to do something else special for you.

Wyatt: Also, to be clear… I don’t regret kissing you. I’m sorry I can’t be everything you want or deserve. There’s a difference.

My cheeks heated, and I wanted so badly to ask him why he thought he couldn’t be everything I wanted and deserved. But I wasn’t doing that through text.

Me: Thank you for the gift. If I thought you’d listen, I’d tell you all the ways you’re so much more than what you think you are.

Me: And I don’t regret kissing you either.

Chapter Thirteen

WYATT

All of thiswould be so much easier if she would just call me an asshole and tell me she hated our kiss. In a way I believed, not with her snarky, sarcastic mouth. With plump, pink lips. So soft. So kissable. Lips that I couldn’t stop imagining being wrapped around my cock as I fucked her mouth.

Damn it. Why, for Christ’s sake, could I not stop thinking about her? In less than five days, she had me questioning everything I thought I’d never want.

Maybe my grandmother’s words would give me insight. She was always good at that.

Slamming my phone down, I stared at the envelopes sitting on the table in my living room in Boston. My name was written on the front of them in my grandmother’s sprawling handwriting. I’d officially put off reading these for longer than I should have. But I was so mad at her after she died that I couldn’t bring myself to open them. Now that I’d had some time to process, I needed to rip the Band-Aid off.

I tore open the most recent envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper. My hand shook at the sight of my grandmother’s words. It had me wondering if I really was ready. Too late for that thought, I supposed.

Wyatt,

If you’re reading this, it must mean I have left earth and gone to be with your pop. I know you’re probably mad at me for not telling you about my diagnosis. But at my age, the surgery would have been too risky, so I opted for a temporary fix that would buy me a couple more years. If I would have told you, you would have stressed and watched me like a hawk. I decided it was better if I just kept it to myself and enjoyed our time together. I trusted in the fact that when it was my time, I would get to join the love of my life in heaven.

I’ve been writing these letters every few months since my diagnosis. I want my words to mean something when I go.

Today I found the woman who will take my place running the hotel. Not the business side of things that you help me with. But the small things. The things that make this hotel so special. You have so many wonderful qualities, my sweet boy, but slowing down and seeing the little things isn’t one of them. You have always gone full speed ahead. As a child, you ran without lookingback. You jumped headfirst. As a teenager, you tested every boundary there was. No one could keep up with you. But your heart is bigger than that of anyone I’ve ever known. And one day, I have faith you’ll see what all of us who have loved you see.

As an adult, you have lived freely and accomplished so much. But you’ve also closed yourself off to love. Don’t think I don’t know. You see the only serious relationship you’ve had as a failure, and you hate failure. So you have chosen to never try again. But you are older now, more mature. Not the twenty-two-year-old boy trying to impress the girl. My hope for you is that you find someone and have the type of love I had with your pop.

I am writing a stipulation in my will that you may or may not know about yet. I want you to give Angie a chance. If I know you as well as I think I do, I believe you will see just how perfect she is too. In ways that might surprise you.

With lots of love,

Nana

She wasn’twrong about Angie. The woman surprised me more every day.Not only was she willing to call me out on my shit, but part of me expected her to make what happened on Saturday night a bigger deal. I saw the hurt on her face when I pulled back. She had the opportunity to milk the situation, yet she hadn’t. Instead, she’d called me a fucking martyr.

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