Page 43 of Falling for the Boss

If I hadn’t seen Joseph leave my apartment building in his car that afternoon, I would have sworn he rode off on a white horse, cape flying, sword raised.

He’d apparently gone straight to thePostto work out a deal on my behalf and then to my hospital to fix things there as well. It was more than I had ever expected and something I never would have asked him to do.

I didn’t care what people called him in the press and online. They were wrong, and they didn’t know him the way I did. He was a godsend. And he was mine.

When Social Month had finally rolled around, none of what we were doing in public had been an act anymore. Nothing about our relationship was fake, and to be honest, maybe it never had been. Looking back at it now, I thought that even when I’d hated him, there was something more lingering just behind the veil… something softer, something more along the lines of love and less like hate.

We posed for pictures, made out in front of throngs of people, held hands, and gazed into each other’s eyes—the way people in love tended to do. Our photos were splashed across various media outlets, but only one—thePost—had pictures that no one else did. That was the deal Joseph had worked out with the reporter there.

And when the two of us met with her one snow-filled afternoon for our first joint interview ever, she actually apologized to me for writing the article about my burns and exposing the fact that I was badly scarred without giving me a heads-up or any kind of warning. We talked about what her report had done and how it had affected me emotionally and professionally. She put part of our conversation in her final article but not before sending it to me first for my approval. It was a kindness she hadn’t had to offer but had, and I respected her for it. Joseph and I continued to work with Daisy exclusively, which gave her a little more credibility. And when she took a job at a more reputable company, we followed her there as well.

Everything between us fell into place so easily and quickly that no one around us questioned it. Not even when he paid off my student loans behind my back even though I’d told him not to. I figured his mom would think I was using him for his money, but she never once accused me of that or thought it. Trust me, I’d asked.

“I’m doing this for us,” Joseph kept saying whenever I fought him on the subject until, one day, it finally clicked for me.

We weren’t temporary.

What we had was real, and it was going to last forever. He hadn’t paid off my loans to help clear my debt; he had done it for us, for our future, because there would be an us until the day we died.

And when he slipped that massive diamond ring on my finger one night during dessert, hiding it inside of some elaborate chocolate horse-and-carriage design, I started crying. When Kayla, his mom, and my parents suddenly appeared out of nowhere, I cried even harder. Joseph was always thinking of everything, leaving no stone unturned.

“Oh, sweetheart, he’s such a catch,” my mom whispered in my ear as she gushed over my ring.

“I like him a lot,” my dad added.

I hugged them both, so thankful that they were there for this moment.

“I really can leave now,” his mom said, her own tears spilling down her cheeks. “But don’t you dare get married until I get back!”

“But you won’t be back for a year,” Joseph complained, but I rested a hand on his shoulder, instantly calming him.

“We can wait,” I said, reassuring him that there was no rush. “We need at least a year to plan it anyway,” I added, and he didn’t seem to understand why.

“All the good venues are booked a year out,” Kayla added, and Joseph looked perplexed.

I didn’t want to think about any of that stuff right now. I wanted to enjoy being engaged to the man of my dreams, who had tried to burn his dick off the night we first met.

“I can’t believe you’re going to marry my boss,” Kayla whispered as she wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a tight squeeze. “Does that make you my boss-in-law?”

A loud laugh escaped me. “It’s all your fault. You’re the one who set us up.”

“I know. I deserve a raise.”

“He just gave you a raise.”

“I want another one. You’re moving out soon,” she whined, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

I’d already started packing my stuff, slowly bringing boxes over to Joseph’s place so that it happened gradually instead of overnight.

“Future wife,” Joseph said as he kissed my lips.

“Future husband,” I responded, the words making chills race down my spine.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife. Let’s go get married right now,” he suggested, and I laughed again.

“No,” I argued, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Whatever. Your parents love me, by the way,” he said, giving a nod toward where my parents stood, talking his mom’s ear off.

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