Page 43 of The Boss Problem

Around three p.m., I got a text from Sean when I was down in the lobby, handling the pickup from his dry cleaner for his work suits.

Sean:What’s your favorite color?

Odd question, I thought, wondering if he expected to be grilled by Will about my likes and dislikes as a part of theare you two really datingtest.

Sean:Also, what size are you in dresses?

Oh.

I flushed as I considered what he was doing.

That’s okay, I texted back hurriedly.I’ve got a dress for tonight.

By dress, I meant the dress I’d gotten for my high school graduation. I hadn’t ever worn it, having bought it in a fit of rebellion after dealing with six months of caring for Henryand being abandoned by our dad. I’d never shown up to my graduation since Henry couldn’t make it to see me graduate. And what was the point in graduating when there was no one to cheer for you?

It was ten years old, but it would still work.

Sean:If it were me going to a party after a long time, Chloe, I’d like to make sure I was dressed to kill. So, what color is it?

You can choose,I texted him back before I hurried home, glad to have wrapped up work early. I wondered how I’d explain to Henry that I’d be out for half the night.

When I walked in, Henry waved to the small wooden table by the front door.

“Someone dropped off a thank-you card for you. It’s on the table.”

I reached for the card and smiled when I saw it was from Greg, thanking me for bringing the trash bins back last week when it was his turn again. Resolving to take him some cake later on in the week, I turned to Henry, explaining where I’d be that night.

He heard me out, his expression changing to one of curiosity when I finished. “You mean, you’re going out on a date?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, no. I’m just helping this man … my colleague, out with his son.”

I would never date Sean. No man wanted a woman like me, a woman who couldn’t think of a life beyond doctor visits, therapy, and financial worries. The past ten years had been filled with that, and the next ten years seemed like they’d be no different. I put up with it because I blamed myself for Henry’s accident. My potential partners? They wanted nothing to do with my guilt.

And I was tired of rejection.

I looked at him with some concern as I realized he would be on his own for most of the night. “Is it all right if I go, Henry?”

I could sense his desperate need to hold on to me and the internal fight he put up to not feel this way.

He swallowed. “I’ve been quite used to having you at home with me all the time.”

My heart wrung with ache for him. He was desperate for a sign that I wasn’t leaving him, that we weren’t growing apart. His voice hung heavy in the air, and I questioned my need to go out. Lucas needed Brianna after all. Not me. I didn’t have to show up.

His jaw clenched briefly, his thick brows knitted together in tension. “But seeing you like this, it reminds me that in the past ten years, you’ve only had one boyfriend. And a jerk at that. You deserve to have dates. You deserve a loving boyfriend and a normal life—” He broke off with a frown.

His gaze went to my dress pants and the black blouse I had on before he spoke, his voice apprehensive.

“Chloe, I’ve heard of the Gild Gala, and I don’t think you can show up in those clothes. And you barely have an hour to get ready. What are you going to wear?”

I stared at Henry, his question ringing in the air, when there was a knock on the door.

22

CHLOE

Ijumped, worried that Sean and Lucas were early.

I opened the door and peeked out. A man was walking away, having dropped off a bunch of boxes on the doorstep. I could read the wordsSaks Fifth Avenueon the boxes and realized that Sean had worked his magic again.

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