Page 3 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

I take one last look around the lobby and turn to leave.

“Good luck, miss,” the guy says.

“Yeah. Good luck,” I mutter.

“Don’t bash good luck,” Megan says to me as she pushes the front door open. “You could use all the good luck you can get.”

“Okay, Mary Poppins.” I smile over at her. “Let’s grab some lunch.”

“How about that little place with the amazing corned beef?”

“Sounds good. We can pull up the application over lunch and fill it out.”

I glance over my shoulder at The Serendipity one more time before joining Megan to walk back the way we came.

Chapter Two

Logan

A man always has two reasons for doing anything:

a good reason and the real reason.

– J.P. Morgan

“Thank you. I’m flattered.”I close my eyes since no one is looking, and I savor the moment. “I’m honored to have the opportunity to contribute my experience to a company as well-respected as yours.”

I got the job.

I. Got. The. Job!

“We’ll see you first thing Monday, Logan,” my new boss, Darwin, says. “ Just stop by HR when you arrive.”

“Thank you. I will.”

“We’re looking forward to what you’ll add to Barnes Marketing. You come highly recommended as a digital marketing specialist. Your boss at Omnipresent said he tried everything short of bribery to keep you.”

“I loved working there. Jim understands that I’m ready to relocate out of Boston.”

I don’t take the situation I’m in for granted. Two prestigious companies vying for me—it’s a marketer’s dream. I had maxed out my potential for advancement at Omnipresent. The management positions were filled with qualified people who grew up in Boston and had no intention of relocating anytime soon.

Rumor in the industry has it that a position at Barnes might be opening up in management. I’m almost overqualified for the position, but it will be a step up into the managerial ranks and one more move in my career toward something I hope to do before I retire—owning my own marketing agency. Once I prove myself to Darwin, I’ll shoot my shot for the management opening when it’s officially announced.

“Thank you, again,” I tell Darwin. “I’m looking forward to being a part of the team.”

“We’ll see you Monday.” Darwin, hangs up.

I stand up from the chair in my home office and pump my fist. And then I break out into an uncharacteristically full-blown dance, alone, in my apartment, ending with a slide across the wood flooring in my socks.

Actually, I’m not completely alone in my historic brownstone. My Boston terrier, Rhett, is lying in his dog bed, staring at me with a look that says,If only I had a camera, we could go viral. His eyes are expressive. And that’s exactly what he said, in not so many words.

Normally, I’m known as reserved. Some people mistake me for being proud, hypercompetitive, even ruthless. But those people haven’t seen me in years. Actually, there’s really only one person who seems to be offended by my very existence. To say she thinks the worst of me would be merely scratching the surface of her obvious repulsion. Somehow, no matter what I do to impress her, she always bristles around me.

She’s feisty, stubborn, and driven. But also soft, deeply compassionate, and loyal. I’ve achieved everything I ever set my mind to. Everything but convincing Olivia Pennington that I’m not the devil incarnate.

I look down at Rhett. “She’ll see. This time, she’ll see. I’m not a monster.” My tone shifts to the babyish talk I often affect when I speak to Rhett in private. “I’m not a monster, am I? No. I’m not.” Rhett stands and barks in affirmation. His entire rear end wiggles from side to side. He’s got so little tail he has to move his hips to show he’s happy.

“That’s right, Rhett. Shake what your mama gave you. Good boy. I’m not a monster, and Olivia will know that in time. I won’t mess it up this go-round.”

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