Page 36 of Like a Boss

“I don’t accept your resignation. I’ll see you bright and early, Ms. Young. And that’s an order.”

And only then does he let me go.

I’m clearly crazy.

There’s no other explanation as to why I’m here, about to exit the elevator and stroll into work like nothing happened.

The weekend didn’t provide any clarity. I’m still just as confused. But what I do know is that saying goodbye to Dylan is something I don’t want. I can’t walk away from this.

Hence, why I’m clearly crazy.

This is a dumpster fire waiting to happen, but it’s too late now.

I exit the elevator, and the office is in full swing as I’ve purposely arrived late. I walk through the office, greeting my colleagues as I normally would. The moment I’m about to take a seat behind my desk, the phone rings and I see Mr. Fox is paging me.

This was a bad, very bad idea.

Taking a calming breath, I enter his office, preparing myself for everything, but when all I see are red roses, I realize I haven’t prepared for anything. I close the door, unsure if I’mhallucinating or not. But when Dylan appears from behind the endless bunches of roses, I know that this is really happening.

“What?” It’s all I can articulate.

Dylan offers me the bunch of roses he holds. “You’re late.”

A laugh escapes me. “So you decided to buy out every florist in the city as punishment?”

The roses smell lovely, but I don’t get it. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to express my sincerest apologies for being a dick, hence the—” And he extends out his hand to the roses.

“A dozen would have sufficed.”

“Nonsense.” And there he is, the arrogant jerk I’ve grown to—love?

No, not love, but at least like. And for that to happen, we have to start again.

“Thank you for the roses, but it’s going to take more than that.”

His handsome face drops. “Name it, and it’s yours.”

Placing the roses on his desk, I open my bag and produce something I’ve been working on all weekend. I offer it to him.

He accepts, reading it over and I see it—he knows what I want.

“Very well, Ms. Young. Take a seat.”

The way he says my name heats me from head to toe, but I remain unaffected as I sit.

He, too, takes a seat, reading over my resume.

Thisis the only way we can start again. For us to start over.

“I see you worked for Audrey Denis.”

I nod, sitting up tall.

He watches me closely. “I heard she’s a real bitch.”

I stifle a chuckle. “I heard her husband is even worse.”

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