Page 23 of The Jealous Boss

That was three weeks ago, Anna. Maybe her plans changed.

A strange sound in Drew’s home office distracts me from further thoughts of Heather. The office, which doesn’t get much use, is just off the living room. I stare at the door, noticing for the first time that it’s ajar, as I try to identify the sound.

It’s familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Yet after a moment, it hits me—it’s the sound of a fax being received. Is that why Drew went into Twinge today, because he was waiting for an important fax?

If so, and it got sent here by mistake, I need to let him know. Setting my mug on the coffee table, I walk over to the office and go inside. Sure enough, a stack of papers rests in the tray of the fax machine.

Removing the papers from the tray, I carry them over to the battered leather loveseat that Drew refuses to throw away, claiming it has sentimental value. Placing the papers on the cushion next to me, I take out my phone, prepared to snap a photo of the top page to send to Drew.

But as I center the page in the frame, a name catches my eye. Setting down my phone, I pick up the top page and skim it, not feeling the least bit guilty. Because the name I saw? It was mine.

Feeling sick, I drop the page, not needing to read any farther, notwantingto read any farther. The nunswereright—about everything. I turn the papers over so that they’re facedown, unable to stand looking at the black-and-white, hard-copy proof that my magical life is over.

* * *

Drew

When the bank finally opens, I’m in and out in record time. On the drive home, I try to rehearse what I’ll say, but it all feels forced, not a real reflection of the depth of my feelings.

Entering the house, I call out her name. No answer.

I regret not checking the cameras earlier. But her car is here, and it’s not like her to sleep in. Although I did keep her up late last night… I take the stairs two at a time, knowingexactlyhow I’ll wake her.

But my bed is empty—as are her room and the upstairs bathrooms. Fear setting in, I call out her name again as I head back downstairs. Still no answer, but as I go to poke my head in the living room, I notice that the door to my office is open. Fuck.

If she discovered the safe room while I was out…

Stomach churning, I enter my office.

My relief at finding the monster’s lair still locked and hidden is replaced by a more formless dread when my gaze lands on Anna and her tearstained face. I shove aside a pile of papers and sink down beside her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Wordlessly, she hands me the papers I just shoved aside. I scan the first few pages and see that it’s the contract. I search for a mistake, something to upset Anna, but Holly did as I asked.

This wasn’t the reaction I expected and doesnotbode well for my proposal… Fuck. How do I fix this when I’m not even sure what’s wrong? I set the contract on the floor.

“You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” I say, deciding to opt for honesty.

She looks up at me, her face a mask of sadness, anger, and disbelief. “Why? Because you wanted to fuck me one more time before kicking me to the curb? Iknewthis would happen if you ever found out what a freak I am.”

Her voice breaks on the word freak. I stare at her, at an utter loss, sure thatI’mnow the one who looks incredulous.

“Kick you to the curb? Are you fucking kidding me, angel? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She frowns as if my words don’t make sense. “Then why are you firing me?”

At this, I groan. “Anna, did you even read the contract?”

“I skimmed it.” She shrugs. “It’s a severance agreement. There didn’t seem much point once I saw that my termination date wastoday. What else do I need to know? You’re done with me, and I’m not… I’m not even going to get to say goodbye to Elijah.”

At my son’s name, she starts crying in earnest, and I pull her into my arms. At first she resists, but I don’t let go. Realizing that I’m not going anywhere, she gives up, crawling into my lap and burying her face against my chest, sobbing as if her heart is breaking.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I did this. I made my angel this unhappy, and I need to fix it. Immediately. But where the hell do I even start?

“Anna, baby, look at me.” I slide a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Thecontract—which if you’d read, by the way, you’d know is so much more than a severance agreement—was supposed to be a formality. Something you’d sign after.”

“After what?” she asks, her voice slightly calmer now.