Page 3 of The Wrong Boss

But it was a whirlwind, and I needed to get my feet back on the ground.

Inhaling deeply, I called the elevator. Once I was downstairs, I poked my head into the ballroom that would house the reception, watching the caterers and DJ set up under the watchful eye of Hailey’s wedding planner. My heel’s strap rubbed against the wound on my foot as I made my way across the hall to the ceremony space, and I leaned a hand against the wall to adjust it. Once my shoe stopped rubbing at my worsening blister, I glanced at the ceremony space and smiled at my uncle Greg, who was helping one of the workers adjust the lights that would illuminate Hailey and Seth.

Hailey would have a gorgeous wedding. My shoulders relaxed, but I only made it a few steps before the pain of my blister had me clicking my tongue. Glancing down at the wound, I huffed a sigh at the red skin. That’s what I got for shoving my feet into the uncomfortable flats I hadn’t yet broken in when I was in a rush to pack and get out of my apartment. Then I drove all the way to New Jersey in them, exacerbating the issue.

Small price to pay to escape the relationship, I told myself.

“Hey, kiddo,” my uncle said, curling an arm around my shoulders. “Jackie told me you finally dumped the dead weight.”

I gave him a half-smile. “Not you too. I had to escape the bridal suite to get away from everyone’s comments about my breakup.”

He squeezed my shoulder and let his arm drop, having reached the extent of his brand of physical closeness. Uncle Greg wasn’t a touchy-feely man, but he’d always been there when I needed him. When my mom passed, Jackie had been a mess, and it was Greg who stepped up and keptus all afloat. They were like surrogate parents to me—as much as anyone could be. My father had left when I was young, and my mother had passed right before I graduated high school. I don’t know what I would have done without my aunt and uncle—and without Hailey and Julie. I probably never would have worked up the strength to leave Derek without having them to fall back on.

Smoothing his hand over his white mustache, Greg winked at me. “Always thought you could do better than him.”

“You and everyone else, apparently. And yet no one seemed to want to tell me what they really thought at some point over the past six-odd years.”

“We had to let you come to your own conclusions,” he said. “You’ve always been your mother’s daughter.”

A pinch in my heart was a familiar remnant of my grief, but I managed to smile through it. “You calling me stubborn?”

“Muleheaded as all heck,” he confirmed shamelessly, laughing. “When Jackie introduced me to her sister, I was relieved I got the nice one.”

“Aunt Jackie’s the nice one?” I quipped back, skeptical.

Greg chucked my chin. “You’re all cut from the same cloth,” he said. “Same as my daughters. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” His eyes were soft as he added, “You girls have everything you need up there? Planner’s getting on my case about starting on time. She said we’ve got less than an hour to get everyone seated.”

“I’m getting some more champagne for the room,” I told him. “But maybe I’ll just wrangle everyone and get them downstairs instead.”

“Smart,” Uncle Greg replied. The wedding planner appeared in the reception doorway and called his name, and I waved him off with a smile.

I took a step toward the elevator, then winced. I wouldn’t be able to walk down the aisle with this blister, let alone dance the afternoon and evening away. Changing directions, I headed for the lobby. The front desk would probably have bandages, but I knew I had special blister bandages in the box of toiletries I’d hastily packed and stuffed into the back of my car. That and medical tape would mean that I wouldn’t have to worry about slicing my wound open when all I wanted to do was dance and let loose.

Plan made, I hobbled toward the revolving glass doors and made my way toward the parking lot. The air outside was thick as soup, with summer hanging heavy in the air. Not wanting to be outside in the muggy heat too long, I hurried around the corner—and froze.

Someone was standing next to my car.

No. Not standing.

Someone wasbreaking intomy car.

Just. My. Luck.

Moving faster, I stumbled over some loose gravel in time to hear the tinkling of broken glass against asphalt as whoever-it-was smashed my back window.

Of all the days for something like this to happen. Wasn’t this justgreat? A breakup followed by a night spent hastily packing all my things while dodging Derek’s vitriol, and then a frantic drive from Philly to Newark to make it to the wedding on time, and now this.

I looked at the ragged creature hunched behind my vehicle, and I felt the keen edge of my freedom, mylife, trying to slice me open one last time. After all the years of emotional and verbal abuse. All the ways I’d made myself smaller to fit into the box Derek made for me. All the dreams I’d set aside.

Now some jerk was going to rob me? On my favorite cousin’s wedding day?

I just—couldn’t let it happen. I was sosickof being taken advantage of. Sick of being beaten down. No one was going to break into my car and steal my stuff.

I wasn’t small, or weak, or scared.

For the first time in a long, long time, I wasangry. Furious at myself for allowing Derek to treat me the way he had. Enraged that it had taken me so long to leave him. Incensed that some asshole saw all my belongings and decided he’d help himself.

“Hey!” I yelled.

---