The Boss (42 page)

I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I turned
and reached up to put my arms around his neck. “Thank you. That’s
very sweet. But I’ll be spending the holiday with my family back in
Michigan.”

He scrunched his face up in embarrassment.
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, that was stupid of me.”

“Nah.” I shook my head and rose on my tiptoes
to kiss his cheek before I turned back to the mirror. “It’s easy to
forget that we don’t actually live in our little fortress of
solitude, isn’t it?”

“Would that we could.” He stepped closer,
trapping me between his body and the edge of the counter. “After
the holidays, then. Let me take you away somewhere.”

I tilted my head to the side as he bent to
nuzzle my neck. The feeling of his lips brushing my skin, the
smoothness of his shaved face, pulled a sigh from deep in my chest.
“Is it that easy? You just decide we’ll run away to somewhere
exciting, and we go?”

“Do you have a passport?” he murmured against
my neck.

“Mmhm.” God, the things he could do to me
with those lips, that voice. He could have proposed a trip to
Siberia in January, and I would have agreed.

“Then it’s that simple. If you wanted to
go.”

My stomach turned over with dread. It all
sounded fine and romantic now, but what would happen after I told
him about Jake and
Porteras
? I had to tell him, even if this
wasn’t the most convenient time. “Listen... there’s something I
have to–“

“Sophie?”

I frowned at the sound of Emma’s voice. I
heard her knock on the bedroom door, and Neil guiltily stepped
back.

“In here,” I called back cheerfully. Ugh, I
really hope she didn’t think we’d been getting up to something.

I hurried out, into Neil’s bedroom, as she
opened the door cautiously. “Your phone was ringing. They called
eight times in a row, so I thought it must have been an
emergency.”

“You didn’t think it was an emergency the
fourth time?” Neil teased her, and I shot him a look. I didn’t want
him to chastise Emma, even in jest, for anything having to do with
me. Not when we were at an uneasy peace about our weird
situation.

“Who the hell would call me eight times in a
row?”

The screen of my phone lit up like a light
bulb over my head, and the dreaded ringtone started playing.
“Imperial March” from
The Empire Strikes Back
. I’d changed
it in a fit of pique on the first day Neil’s company had taken over
Porteras
.

“Sophie, you’re white as a sheet,” Neil said
in alarm. I swayed on my feet and he steered me to the sofa.

“It’s Gabriella,” I said, feeling
legitimately dizzy. I’d always heard the term “triggered” applied
to stuff that reminded people of horrible things in their past. I
didn’t think there was a single thing in my life that had been so
psychologically scarring that I would have an anxiety attack to be
reminded of it. But Gabriella’s number was on the screen, and she
was waiting for me to take her call.

“Emma, can you excuse us?” Neil asked softly.
Emma left and closed the door behind her, and he sat beside me on
the couch while I stared at the phone in my palm. It went to
voicemail, and within seconds, the ringtone sounded again.

Neil nudged my knee with his. “It might be
important.”

“It might not. She could be calling ten times
in a row because she can’t remember the phone number for her dog’s
acupuncturist.” I tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. I
dropped my head to my unoccupied hand, mortified. I was
crying
in front of Neil. Jesus Christ, I was
crying
in front of him.

“Sophie...” he sounded as alarmed as I felt.
His arms went around my shoulders awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you
were so...”

“Cowed by my old boss?” I laughed sadly and
wiped my eyes, pulling out of his embrace. “Hey, guess what, I have
been the submissive in a relationship before. I just got paid for
it.”

That depressed me so much, I cried harder.
Neil took my phone from my hands, swore at it, and muted the
ringer.

“What’s going on?” he asked gently. “There’s
something you’re not telling me.”

I felt so horrible. He’d praised my honesty
over lunch. To his daughter. Whose trust he was trying to earn
back. “Look, there’s something I have to tell you, and when I do,
I’m afraid you won’t like me very much.”

He looked slightly alarmed. “Sophie, I can’t
think of anything that would make me not like you. But if it’s
really that bad, perhaps you’d better just say whatever it is, so
we can get the fight out of the way now.”

“You’re scheduling our fights?” I couldn’t
help my tearful burble of laughter. “Okay, just... remember that I
love you, okay?”

The phone was ringing again. I reached for
it, silenced it, and when I set it aside, he took my hands. I’d
never seen him look so cautious, like he was braced for something
really horrible, but he didn’t want to believe it would be as bad
as he anticipated. Then I realized I probably looked just the
same.

“Remember Jake Kirchner?” I looked into
Neil’s eyes for some kind of acknowledgement. His mouth parted, and
a vertical line appeared between his eyebrows. He didn’t remember,
and he was going to try a guess. I rolled my eyes. “The editor who
resigned this week?”

“Yes, oh. The insufferable one who always
wedged Truman Capote references into as many conversations as
possible.” He shook his head in amusement then froze. “You told
Rudy to keep an eye on him. I assume this phone call has something
to do with his resignation?”

“Jake left
Porteras
because he’s going
to work with Gabriella on a project.” I took a deep breath. I
figured I might as well get it all out. “She’s starting up her own
magazine. That’s where your advertisers are going. She’s going to
crib
Porteras
’s subscribers and you’re going to have to
fold. She’s got someone who can feed her the subscription list, but
I swear to God, Neil, it’s not me.”

“Well, I didn’t expect that.” Neil pinched
the bridge of his nose. “How long have you known about all
this?”

“I had a vague idea something was going on
while you were in London taking care of your mom,” I admitted.
“That’s why I told Rudy to keep an eye on Jake. And I wanted to
tell you about the subscription list, but you looked so tired and
things were going so well with us... I didn’t want to stress you
out any more.”

He looked hurt. I wasn’t prepared for
that.

“Jake is trying to get me a job with
Gabriella’s new organization. He told me earlier this week and I
hadn’t made up my mind, so... I felt like I couldn’t tell you.” I’d
picked my job over our relationship. This kind of thing probably
happened all the time with people who dated coworkers, right?

Except... Neil wasn’t just a coworker. He was
my boss.

“Oh shit,” I whispered. “I just told my boss
that I was conspiring with a competing publication.”

He didn’t look at me. He pulled his hands
away from mine. Very quietly, like he was fighting for control, he
said, “Sophie. You’re fired.”

I considered it a personal victory that I
didn’t start crying again. My biggest worry was that if I cried,
Neil wouldn’t actually fire me, and that would make me feel all
manipulative and shitty. I already felt manipulative and shitty
enough.

“Answer your phone. We’ll talk about this,
but I need a moment to myself.” He got up and left the room, and I
wondered if I was supposed to run after him.

No. He needed a moment, I would give him one.
And I would see what the hell Gabriella wanted.

I took a deep breath. The phone was ringing
again. I answered it.

“I don’t remember it ever taking twelve calls
to get in touch with the Sophie I knew.” Gabriella spoke slowly,
dragging each word out like honey dripping from a bottle. “I hope
this isn’t a indication of what I can expect in the future.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t near my phone.” Why was I
apologizing? I didn’t work for her anymore. I didn’t have to answer
the damn phone if I didn’t feel like it. Given my current state of
unemployment, I wasn’t going to mention that part.

“The details don’t concern me. I need you to
meet me for brunch tomorrow afternoon. One o’clock. My assistant
will text you the restaurant.”

And then she hung up. I don’t know what I was
expecting, but I’d thought she might not treat me like her
employee, since I wasn’t anymore. I guess that faith was woefully
misplaced.

I found Neil in the living room. A few weeks
ago, he’d replaced the white couches Elizabeth had chosen with a
black leather sofa and matching armchairs with deep seats that were
perfect for curling up in, but which probably infuriated his
daughter. Neil was on the couch, slouched in the corner of it, one
foot up on the cushion, his wrist braced on his bent knee as he
stared at the flames in the fireplace.

“Hey,” I said from the door.

He looked up. “That was fast.”

“She just wanted to ask me to lunch
tomorrow.” I shrugged. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I’ll
probably go home tonight. You know, be well- rested.”

He gazed silently at me for a long time. I
felt like I was on trial. I suppose I did that to myself, so I
endured it.

Finally, he said, “Please keep in mind as we
have this conversation that I do still love you, and I am in no way
suggesting we end our relationship. I would rather cut off my own
thumb than break up with you.”

“So, fired from the magazine, not fired as
your girlfriend. Got it.” I breathed a long, shaky sigh of
relief.

That struck me as odd. I wasn’t as bothered
about losing my job as I would have been by losing Neil? Where the
fuck were my priorities?

“But,” he began, and he let that “but” hang
between us a moment. “You didn’t tell me you had a potential job
offer at a competing company. And you knew the situation was
serious. I can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.”

“It wasn’t personal,” I said quickly.
“Please, don’t feel like I was thinking I would pull something
behind your back.”

He nodded. “I don’t think that. I think that
you considered your career options, and you considered how this
might affect our relationship, and you chose your career.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” I
thought that was what I was supposed to do. Not give up career
opportunities for a guy, not let love get in the way of business...
It’s how I’d ordered my priorities. “I love you, Neil, but I didn’t
want to throw away an opportunity for myself because I was dating
you.”

“You didn’t have to throw away the
opportunity. But you could have at least had the decency to give me
some clue, some warning.” He got up from the couch and went to the
door, shutting it firmly. I had the same sense that he did, that
this conversation might get... loud.

“I did give you warning,” I reminded him. “I
told you the way
Porteras
was running, you were going to
have trouble. And we weren’t supposed to talk about business,
remember?”

“That is such bullshit, Sophie. You offered
conjecture on the future of the magazine when you knew there was a
greater threat that actually existed. And the only reason you
didn’t tell me was because you apparently didn’t trust me to handle
the problem in a way that wouldn’t cause negative consequences for
you. I have been a far better boss than Gabriella, and your loyalty
still lies with her.”

So, this was a professional beef? I didn’t
know how to get around that one. “I told Rudy. I followed the chain
of command at
Porteras
for this kind of thing. I wouldn’t
have done anything different if I’d still been working under
Gabriella.”

“I think,” he began, weighing each word
carefully before he said them, “that you’re right when you say you
were submissive to Gabriella. In a purely non-sexual, and a
completely unhealthy way. What job has she offered you?”

Oh, this wasn’t going to be fun to admit.
“She hasn’t offered me any job, yet. Jake thought she might want me
to come back as her assistant.”

He nodded slowly. “So, you risked your job at
Porteras
and your relationship with me to be an assistant to
a demanding, borderline abusive boss who calls you until you cry?
When you’re already a beauty editor with my publication?”

“Assistant beauty editor,” I reminded him
quietly.

“Then maybe it is better that you don’t work
for me, after all.”

“You’re right. That was a sad truth we were
going to have to face eventually, anyway. I can’t work with you and
look out for myself. I’m always going to be in a position where I
can spy for you, so I’m always going to be wondering if I should
use what I know for me, or for you.”

“Spy for me?” he was audibly disgusted. “I
have asked you to do no such thing!”

“You’re asking me to right now!” How couldn’t
he see that? “You want me to be your girlfriend some of the time,
your employee the rest of the time.”

“You’re asking me the same thing!” His gaze
shifted to the door, and he lowered his voice. “You don’t want me
to treat you differently than any other employee, but when I don’t
listen to your doomsday predictions for the magazine, you’re hurt
and offended.”

I was hurt and offended now. Not because he
wasn’t right. He was. We were clearly two people who were not
equipped to navigate the oceans of ethical problems we had made for
ourselves.

“I think our situations are a little
different here. I’m making the choice to fight for my
forty-thousand a year job, you might take a hit on a few of the
millions sitting in your bank account.”

“Billions,” he was infuriatingly quick to
correct. “And I regret to inform you that forty-thousand is far
less than a few million. I still have more to lose. Besides, do you
really believe that you would be in danger of homelessness or
starvation if you lost your job?”