Page 20 of The Wrong Boss

“I’m going to be late!” my daughter replied, frantic.

“I think she’s more nervous than you are,” Hailey said from her perch at the dining room table, a steaming mug of green tea clasped in her hands. Halfway through her second trimester, her baby bump had just popped and was pushing at the buttons of her blue-and-white striped pajamas. She looked tired this morning, but her nausea had abated a couple of weeks ago, and she was basking in the relative ease of hanging out in the kitchen without having to dart to the bathroom and throw up when someone dared to cook food in her vicinity.

“It’s a big day,” I replied, smiling to hide my own nervousness.

“First day of big-girl school,” Hailey confirmed. Her hand slid over her bump, and her gaze turned inward. I imagined she was thinking about how quickly the years would fly between now and the time she was sending her own daughter off to her first day of first grade. Lord knew it had gone by too fast for me. The past seven years were a blur.

“First day of big-girl school for both of us,” I said, and Hailey laughed.

“Oh, come on. You’re not nervous, are you?”

“I’m terrified. I left a steady job for this, and I still don’t know if it was a mistake.”

“You can do it,” my cousin told me, utterly sure of my capabilities. “You were Wentworth’s top executive assistant for three years. Now you’ll be one of many in the new company’s assistant pool. You’ll have support.”

“Or I’ll be thrown to the wolves because I’m coming in at the bottom of the pack.”

“Just a ray of sunshine, as usual,” Hailey teased.

I pursed my lips and tilted my head, conceding the point. I’d applied for the position at Hearst, Inc. because it had an amazing salary and benefits, and it would be a clear step up in my career. I was a single mother and I couldn’t afford to turn the opportunity down, even though working for Mr. Wentworth had been easy and pleasant and comfortable. Never mind the rumblings I’d heard that working for the multinational investment company was like stepping into an industrial-sized meat grinder. I’d deal with that when I knew what I was facing.

A meat grinder could be worth it, if the salary and benefits were right—and they were.

Mr. Wentworth had been a great boss, but he ran an accountancy firm that he purposefully kept small. After three years, I’d learned all I could, and the slightly-above-average salary was stretched too thin. I had to move on.

But I was nervous.

What if I’d jumped ship for something better, only to find out that I couldn’t handle the new challenge?

The sound of footsteps on the stairway made us both turn, and Hailey’s husband, Seth, appeared. He crossed the room to press a kiss to Hailey’s lips first, then leaned down to kiss her bump. “How are my girls this morning?”

“She’s great,” Hailey replied, arching a brow. “Threw a party in my uterus all night. I, on the other hand, am a little tired.”

Seth squeezed her shoulder and crossed to my side of the kitchen. He greeted me with a friendly “Good morning” and filled his mug with coffee.

“Your lunch is in the fridge,” I told him. “Chicken satay salad.”

“You spoil us,” Seth replied, reaching to ruffle my hair.

I ducked away, yelping. “I spent twenty minutes on my hair this morning!”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, glancing down at my pencil skirt and blouse. “First day today, right?”

“Right.”

“You’ll be great,” he said, lifting his cup of coffee in a casual salute. “No one is better at keeping a thousand ballsin the air than you are.”

I topped up my own mug while Seth served himself the eggs and toast I’d prepped, then I joined Hailey at the table. “It’ll just take me a few months to save up enough so I can move out. I’ll be out of your hair by the time the baby comes.”

Hailey smiled sadly. “You know you’re welcome to stay, Carrie. This is your home as much as it is ours.”

“Is it, though?” I answered, trying to keep my voice light but cringing internally.

My cousin clicked her tongue and reached over to squeeze my hand. “Itis,” she insisted. “And don’t think we don’t appreciate all you’ve done for us over the years.”

“She’s right,” Seth cut in, sitting down with his plate. “We’d be living off of takeout and frozen pizza if it weren’t for you.”

I hummed in reluctant agreement. Iwasa good cook. And it was my way of letting Seth and Hailey know that I appreciated everything they’d done for me over the years.

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