Page 49 of The Wrong Boss

“My thoughts exactly.” I lifted my mug in salute, my lips curving in a smile.

“Now all you have to do is impress the rest of them on the annual executive staff retreat, and your place here will be secured for life. Take it from someone who knows.”

The steaming mug of coffee froze halfway to my mouth. “Executive staff retreat?”

“Has no one told you about it yet?” Rachael glanced at me above the thick black rim of her glasses. Her hair was a shock of white, a shade so pure that I wondered if she bleached it to look that way. It was styled in a funky pixie cut that showed off the large dangling earrings adorning her lobes.

I shook my head. “I’ve just been trying to get my head around the job. The travel arrangements alone are a headache and a half. Haven’t had much time for anything else.”

“You’ll manage,” Rachael said with a wave of her hand.

“So, this retreat?”

“All the bigwigs go away to a resort owned by Chuck. Have you met Chuck?”

I shook my head. “Chuck Hearst?”

“The one and only.” She sidled past me to the coffee machine and poured herself a mug. Grimacing at the taste, she dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into it and stirred. Glancing at me as her spoon clinked against the edge of her mug, Rachael said, “You know the way to that man’s heart?”

“His stomach?” I guessed.

She barked a laugh. “If only. No. It’s golf. Display a passing interest in the game, and he’ll think you’re the bee’s knees.”

Evie’s voice popped into my head: “Did you know bees have no kneecaps?”

I smiled despite myself, then wondered if Cole would find her obsession with bees as endearing as I did. Then I cursed myself for thinking of him, and then I remembered that I was in the middle of a conversation.

“My old boss used to drag me around the course with him every Wednesday,” I told Rachael. “Only way to get him to answer any messages was to follow him around with a golf cart and pretend I knew how to swing a club. Eventually I got pretty good at it.” The memory made me grin. Wentworth was a quirky old man. He used to say that being a boring old accountant was the most interesting thing about him, but he waswrong. I missed those Wednesday morning golf lessons more than I’d like to admit. He’d been almost like a father figure to me. I would’ve worked for him forever if he’d been able to afford to pay me the market rate.

I smiled at Rachael. “Golf’s no problem for me.”

“Chuck’ll love you, then,” she answered, taking a sip of her sweetened coffee.

“When’s the retreat?”

“Usually sometime at the beginning of Q4,” Rachael said. “They say it’s to get the executive team together with the board to review the year before the busy holiday season, but it’s just an excuse for all of them to go down to Florida with their families and have a few days off. Now, for us,” she added, clicking her tongue, “it’s always a ton of work. We have to organize all the logistics and be on call for whatever they might need. And the ones who don’t end up going down to the resort have to hold down the fort while everyone else is gone.”

Thinking that as the newest EA in the pool, I’d be one of the skeleton crew left behind, I shrugged. “I won’t mind the office being a bit quieter.”

We both turned when Kaia poked her head into the kitchen. “Need you both for a quick meeting upstairs,” she said. “Meeting Room G in five.”

So, five minutes later, I walked into the meeting room behind Rachael, Kaia, and the other executive assistants. We all took a seat around the conference table, pulling out notebooks while Kaia connected her laptop to the projector. The meeting room was small, with only one open seat to my left remaining empty.

“I wanted to touch base with you about the executive retreat. Gillian, you mentioned you’d like to sit it out this year?”

“My mom’s illness flared up,” she said. “My dad needs help managing the appointments. I’d love to come to the retreat, and you know how committed I am to the job, but they really need me…”

While Gillian explained her family situation, my awareness went to the door behind me. I knew it was him before I worked up the courage to turn my head. I saw the vague reflection of a man in the windows in front of me, and I caught the barest whiff of spiced cologne, and I justknew.

Cole’s broad hand landed on the back of the chair to my left. He pulled it out and slid into it, all grace and coiled power. I loved the way he moved, so sure of himself. Slow and confident. I’d loved watching him stride out of the hotel with my car keys dangling from his fingers. Loved watching him run after the thief who’d tried to rob me, even though I’d cursed his name?—

I blinked, shaking off the memory. Bad Carrie! Those memories—those facets of our relationship—were in the past, and in the past they would remain. Now we were professionals, and I was the desperate woman who needed to find a way to tell him the truth while keeping this job.

Cole’s presence burned my side. Under the table, his legs stretched and his knee nudged mine. I coughed and shifted, pulling my leg away.

In my peripheral vision, I saw the slow turn of his head. He was staring at me.

Kaia was saying something. I had no idea what. My head was filled with whitenoise.

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