Page 17 of Boss Agreement

It’s the face you make when you realize you’re not going to make it. That the carefully stacked house of cards is about to topple over, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. That only happens when you don’t have money. But how does the heir to the largest publishing company in the world have money problems?

“You’ve been sleeping here, haven’t you?” I say, just loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t know why, but you’re out of money. I’d know that face anywhere.”

Once again, he opens his mouth and then closes it. I expect him to sit there silently, but the ice holding his emotions back begins to crack, and he nods.

Sera looks like she’s in shock. I think for a minute, and just like when I talked to my mom, I know the right answer in this situation. If I were even the least bit intelligent, I would tell him that his problems sound terrible. Then, I’d turn around to do my work. I would ignore the wounded animal caught in the trap and focus on my own problems. Like my mother. Or that my entire future depends on whether I can succeed at this job.

But once again, I’m an idiot.

“Let’s get an early lunch,” I say and stand up. Sera arches an eyebrow and does the smart thing, turning back to the cover she’s working on.

Phillip whispers, “I can’t pay.”

I chuckle. “I’ll loan you a bit of money. Eventually, I bet you’ll pay me back.”

He doesn’t move, his phone cradled in his hands as he stares blankly past me. Instead of waiting for him to hear me, I grab his wrist and pull him up. His body moves instinctively, following my pull, and he comes back to his senses. “It’s only eleven,” he says. “People take lunch breaks at a quarter to twelve.”

The corner of my lip curls up in a half-grin. “Are you going to fire me for buying you lunch?”

That breaks him out of his stupor. At least a little. “No, I guess not.”

“Good. Then let’s get a sandwich, and you can tell me all about how a billionaire ends up borrowing money for lunch.”

Thirteen

PHILLIP

“You arethe dumbest man I have ever met,” Addison says as she leans forward in the booth, her arms supporting her as she gets closer to me. “You actively went out of your way tonot be rich. Do you understand how absolutely insane that sounds?”

“Yes. My father said the same thing. But Addison, I’ve spent my life so focused on Loughton House that I’ve never actually experienced the world. Everything’s so censored, so clean and tidy and fake. Sure, I could take a vacation from my life, maybe go to some island resort somewhere, but that’s not real either. That’s just a fake world that people escape to. It’s no different.”

There’s no way anyone could understand this overwhelming urge to see the world without the veneer that everyone in my life covers it with. Nothing real ever happens.

I see photos of people working to make a life, of people struggling and fighting and giving it everything they have. I watch movies where people love and sacrifice and make hard decisions.

But I’ve never understood any of it. The last week has been the hardest struggle of my life. I’ve worked plenty, don’t get me wrong. Hell, I can’t think of a point when the majority of my time wasn’t spent learning or working on business. It’s different, though.

Addison frowns. “You want to be a normal Joe? That’s a little bat shit, but I guess rich people do insane things. How are you going to manage that, though? You don’t have the money for a deposit, so you’ll have to live in a motel. That’ll mean you have to get takeout for every meal…”

“I was planning on staying at the Atrium,” I interject.

Addison’s eyes open wide for a moment and then she laughs. “You realize you’re a junior editor, right? Not a manager or even a senior editor. Just a guy straight out of college. There’s no freaking way you’re going to afford the Atrium.”

I don’t laugh because nothing about this conversation is funny. “I realized that this morning. How do you survive on that pittance of a wage?”

She just laughs again. Even though I’m beyond frustrated, it’s hard not to smile. Her eyes are sparkling and so full of energy.

“I act like I’m poor, Phillip. Because I am. And I guess you are, too. You have to know where your money is going. Every last penny. Just like in business, you need to be a little creative.”

She grins for a second. “Have you ever been to a thrift store?”

A thrift store? “I don’t think so.”

The waitress brings our sandwiches then, and I’m not interested in mine at all.

Addison just keeps grinning. “Well, eat your sandwich so we can get back to work, but then I’m going to take you shopping like us poor folks.”

To my father or brothers, I’m sure that statement would have sounded dreadful, but right now, I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do. And truthfully, I’m not sure whether it’s because I’ll be doing something new, which was the entire goal of this month…

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