Page 85 of The Wrong Boss

The first step I took toward the exit felt like I had to unglue the sole of my shoe from the floor. I stumbled forward and somehow made it outside. The air was cold; it smelled of exhaust and old garbage. Blinking at the brightness outside, I gasped in a breath and wanted to scream.

I was as much of a fool as I’d been at fourteen, scrubbing the kitchen floors because I thought it would make my mother like me. Except this time, I’d let a woman snake her way into my life, my bed, and my heart. My engagement had fallen apart. I’d blown up my whole life.

For what? Forher?

People jostled me as they walked past, and I barely felt it. I hailed a cab and slid in the back seat, and it wasn’t until the cabbie told me to either tell him where to go or get out that I blinked back to myself and gave him my address.

The apartment was empty. I couldn’t even go sit by Alba’s bedside, because what right did an ex-fiancé have to support her? I had no family here. I had nothing.

I blinked, and I was standing at the bar cart in the living room, a glass of liquor in my hand. I didn’t remember walking over here and pouring it. I took a sip, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down my throat. It hurt less than the rest of me. At least the pain reminded me that I was alive.

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, I pulled out my phone.

“Kaia,” I said. “Terminate Carrie Woods’ contract, effective immediately.”

There was a short, sharp silence. “You mean?—”

“Fire her.”

To her credit, my head assistant simply said, “Of course,” and it felt good to be vindictive. To remind Carrie that I wasn’t powerless here. Then I hung up and dialed my lawyer to set up a meeting for Monday morning. Never again would I feel like my life was at the mercy of other people’s lies. I wouldn’t be controlled by secrets. I wouldn’t let my daughter go through the same thing I went through. She wouldn’t discover my existence when she was twenty, wondering why I never fought for her.

The thought was so heavy I collapsed onto the sofa. I had a daughter. I’d created a child. And I’d had no idea.

My hands trembled as I looked at my phone again. The tiniest thread of hesitation wove its way through me. Carrie had said she’d looked for me for months. Maybe…

Anger swept in and crushed the thought like a scuttling cockroach. Carrie didn’t deserve my patience or my kindness.She didn’t deserve the time to come up with some explanation that would smooth over her sins.

She’d lied to me. She’d looked me in the face, told me she wanted me—told me she wasmine—and it had all been a lie.

Scrolling past her name, I dialed the only person I knew I could trust. Rome answered on the third ring, listened to the story of my awful, awful day, and told me he’d be at my place within the hour. I hung up and took a deep breath, already drawing the battle lines in my head.

I cursed Carrie. I fed the hatred that wanted to grow. But beneath it all, what I really felt was hurt. And when Rome arrived at my door, a traitorous part of my heart wished it was Carrie standing on my threshold, waiting to be invited in.

THIRTY-FIVE

CARRIE

Evie washer chipper self on the way home. I tried my best to keep up with her chatter, but my mind was like a windblown tundra. Bleak and harsh and devoid of any life. When we made it across the river and got off the train, Evie slipped her hand in mine as we headed toward home.

“I want to be a beekeeper when I grow up,” she announced.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I can bring you honey.”

My smile was tired, but it was genuine. “I’d like that.”

We walked a few more minutes along the familiar streets. Just a couple more blocks, and we’d turn the corner and see our building.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Evie?”

“Whowas that man?”

My heart squeezed so hard I had to slow down so I could keep myself steady. I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly.

“Is he really your boss?”

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