Page 26 of The Wrong Boss

This time I did laugh. “Your hair is fabulous. Your style is impeccable. Your nails are a work of art.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No one is as clever or as talented as you. I bow down before you, because I know I’ll never come close to your travel arrangement skills.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll help you just this once,” she said. “What do you need?”

I told her, hung up the phone, and twelve minutes later, a flight confirmation was sent to my new work email with the boss’s top choice for airline and flight number. The seat selected was the third-best choice according to the SOP document, but I’d take it.

I texted Deena a slew of over-the-top compliments about her prowess as a travel agent and status as a style inspiration, to which she replied with a simple, “I know,” then I forwarded the flight confirmation to Kaia.

Thirty seconds later, my manager was striding toward my desk, her eyes shining. “I don’t know how you did it, Carrie, and I don’t care. Follow me.”

I jumped up, trying not to let the triumphant smile spread across my lips the way it wanted to. “Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” she replied.

I gulped. “Oh. Really?”

“I know there’s an actual beating heart somewhere inside Christianson’s chest,” she told me as we entered the elevator. “Iwant him to see your face, to know who it is that knocked this out of the park so quickly.”

“You want to humanize me so it’s harder for him to fire me in ten days’ time.”

She threw me a sideways glance, laughing. “We’re incredibly short-staffed. I can’t afford to lose anyone. Especially not someone who seems to have the connections to make things happen.”

“I got lucky,” I demurred, but pride burned through my chest. I made a mental note to send Deena the fruit basket to end all fruit baskets as a thank-you gift, just as soon as I got my first paycheck.

“No such thing,” Kaia answered, striding out as soon as the elevator doors opened. She motioned for me to follow, then knocked on one of the frosted glass doors on the quiet, glossy executive floor. A small black plaque proclaimed the occupant’s name in simple white font: Mr. Cole Christianson, CEO. I sucked in a long breath, trying to get enough oxygen into my body. The air was thin up here, although maybe that was just the crush of my ribs constricting my lungs.

First day jitters. That was all.

This was good. Kaia was obviously respected here, and I’d made a great first impression. All I needed to do was keep it up, and I’d be able to give Evie her own bedroom for the first time in her life. I’d be able to repay Hailey for her generosity by giving her the gift of privacy as her family grew. I’d have stability. That landmass on the distant horizon was close—so close that I could almost feel sand beneath my toes. I was nearly safe on solid ground.

Deep breaths.

I was getting ahead of myself; I’d done one single task. That wasn’t enough to secure my place at Hearst. I’d have to do it again and again and again to prove myself. I was ready. I straightened my back and lifted my chin while a deep, resonant voice called for us to enter.

And that voice…

No. I was overwrought. I was high on my own meager success. I was thrown by the name on the door, those four letters of the first name that brought me back to the day of Hailey’s wedding when everything changed for me.

But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. That would make him the entirely wrong boss for me.

On legs that felt like wet noodles, I stepped over the threshold after Kaia, surreptitiously wiping my sweating palms on the sides of my hip-hugging skirt. My throat was dry, and I saw none of the expansive view of Manhattan nor the designer furniture or the contemporary oil paintings adorning the walls.

All I saw was a pair of broad shoulders in a perfectly tailored black shirt. I saw familiar black hair that was just long enough to curl at the ends. I saw a trim waist, and the curve of a neck along which I’d scraped my fingernails in the throes of passion all those years ago.

My breathing became jagged. My vision began to cloud at the edges.

I needed to get my eyes checked. Or maybe my head. This was wrong, wrong,wrong. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. It absolutely, definitely, couldnotbe him.

Not when I needed this job so badly. Not when even thechancethat it was him sent my heart galloping faster than my weekly group fitness session. The owner of this company wasn’t my child’s father. There was no way.

No. Way.

“Sir,” Kaia said. “I wanted to introduce you to Carrie Woods. As you know, she just started this morning, and she’s managed to fix Ms. Bronson’s blunder with your travel arrangements. I thought you’d like to put a face to the name and let us know if you’d like her to handle anything else.”

Cole Christianson’s movements paused for the briefest moment when she said my name. It was hardly a pause. More of a stutter as he reached for a glass, a slight twitch of his fingers as they curled around the crystal.

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