Page 2 of Grumpy Boss's Secret

I grinned. “Yeah, whatever,” I said.

It wouldn’t matter too much what he looked like if we couldn’t stand each other.

That night, I ordered some takeout and unpacked my suitcase. It didn't take long––I'd brought hardly anything with me. The plan was just to buy most of my new things here. I loved that idea when I was back in Vermont.

I thought, "It will give me something fun to do there. I can have fun reinventing my wardrobe, buying new books, and all kinds of stuff. I feel like I'm leaving roots in my new home." Right now, however, I felt like there wasn't enough me in this big, dark apartment that smelled vaguely of some man’s aftershave.

"I should have brought a blanket with me," I grumbled as I sat on the couch, my burrito bowl and bag of chips waiting for me on the coffee table. They let out a heavenly fragrance. And the couch was soft; I had to give it that.

I turned on the TV, found a comfort movie–to,Ten Things I Hate About You – and settled down with my dinner. I wiggled my toes in my squishy socks as I laughed at the film and hugged a pillow when I ate. It wasn't as good as a blanket, but it was something.

However, as soon as the movie ended, my loneliness washed over me again. I hadn't thought moving to a new city would feel like this. I'm an easily excited person. I thought it would just be all fun and excitement.

I looked out the window at the city lights. I heard a car honk in the street below me. I didn't feel excited right now: I felt tired and restless simultaneously. And hollow, as if my entire body was hungry even though my stomach was full.

I looked at my phone, lying on the coffee table. I thought about calling Mom again. Or one of my friends. But Mom was back in Vermont, and most of my friends were on the east coast. It was too late to call any of them now.

I lay down flat on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Light patterns from the city flickered across it. “You’ve got this, Jozi,” I said. “You should just go to bed–”

I noticed a glow to my left. I turned my head and saw that my phone screen had lit up. I sat up, reaching eagerly for it.

An email. An email from Kirk. I grinned. It was as if he knew. I knew that I'd be here, lonely, and wanting someone to talk to,even though all I'd told him was that "I would move to a new city soon" a week ago.

I clicked on the email, wiggling my toes again.

Hey Zee, Moving is exciting. I can't offer you much advice about it except to get a pet. You know, as long as your new place allows for that. Or maybe just sneak some fish in; they can't stop you. Let me know how everything goes! Kirk

I smiled, holding the phone a little more tightly in my hands. He always offered me advice, like it was something I’d ordered and paid for.

“He’s probably in his mid-fifties,” I said, leaning my head back again and closing my eyes. “Or in his seventies. He’s probably some creepy old man who writes passionate love stories about young people because he just likes to think about younger women.”

I grinned. I didn't believe it. Kirk mentioned going out to the gym, drinking with his friends, and climbing a mountain. I suspected he was just as young and fit as the heroes in the romance novels he wrote.

I glanced at my bedroom. It was a dark doorway, but I thought about the copy Captured by Love by Kirk Green on the night table. I owned all his books, but that one was my favorite. It had been the first one I'd read back in college. It had swept me so completely off my feet that I knew I had to email the author. I'd been sure it was a woman using a man's name.

But I'd emailed Kirk, and he'd said, "No, I am definitely a man. I won't send you a dick pic to prove it, but I could."

And then we'd just kept emailing. He'd started us out with that flirtatious tone – or maybe I had: my initial email had been dripping with compliments and admiration-and we kept that going. It had been four years now. I was utterly in love with him.

Even though I'd never met him. He was so smart, funny, and sassy like me.

We emailed each other once or twice a week, consistently. He was as dependable in my life as the U.S. Postal Service. I initially felt that our correspondence would slowly taper out. He was a writer and sure to be busy. I was just some random fangirl, emailing him from my pre-college email address, "horses4evr”, and signing as “Zee,” my nickname in college. He didn’t even know my real name.

But he kept writing me back. Sometimes, there would be a pause after my last email, and, "He won't email me back after that one. I didn't ask a question. I wrapped up what we were talking about. He'll just fade into the distance now." But he never did. He always wrote again.

Sometimes I daydreamed he was in love with me too, but that was impossible. Right?

I read his email over again. It tempted me to pour out my heart and tell him all my insecurities about the next day. Tell him how lonely I was. I never should have taken this job or uprooted myself like this.

Instead, I typed back: A pet sounds like a good idea! I've always wanted a cat. If I keep one hidden in the bathroom, they'll never know.

I sent it. I looked out the window again, wondering about actually getting a cat. Or a dog. I could get a dog and wander around the city with it. My phone screen lit up again. Another email from Kirk. I opened it, feeling warmth swirl in my core. I didn't feel lonely anymore.

ChapterTwo

"This is going to be great. I will go in there and impress all their socks off."

I stood outside the skyscraper that housed the offices of Huntington Skies and stared up at its glossy, gleaming windows. It looked like a glass pillar stretching into the cloudy morning sky. A droplet of rain landed on my cheek. I brushed it off.

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