The Wrong Boss: Chapter 29

I hadn’t taken myself for a gigantic coward, but the last two days of the retreat proved me wrong. I was afraid of losing this tiny slice of happiness that had finally befallen me.

It had been so long. So long.

The last time I remembered doing something reckless and selfish—which continuing this romance with Cole definitely was—was in college before meeting Derek. Those late nights with a few bottles of wine and a handful of girlfriends, the ones we’d spent doubled over with laughter while we gossiped and dreamed and were silly young twenty-somethings. The days I’d skipped classes and gone for a long walk in the botanical gardens alone with my thoughts. The time Hailey and I had crashed a party and pretended to know the birthday girl, only to run away cackling when we were found out.

Then Derek had happened, and my life shrank. As soon as I dragged myself out from under his thumb, I found myself pregnant, alone, and broke. The last decade of my life—almost my entire adult existence—had been an exercise in survival.

Cole gave me an alternative. When he tipped his head from the other side of the dining room with a glint in his eye, my heart began to gallop and I forgot about my worries, about the future, about the big, Evie-sized secret that I was hiding from him.

In those moments, all that mattered was the feel of his palm against mine as he dragged me to an empty storage room. I became addicted to the taste of his lips, the press of his hands against my body, the feeling of clothes being shoved aside any which way so we could chase the pleasure that plagued us.

It was dishonest and cowardly and selfish. And I couldn’t stop.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d tell me, his lips against my skin, and I’d believe him. “My girl,” he’d pant, gripping my chin as he watched me come. “Mine.”

And it was true—I was his. For those short few days, I belonged to Cole, body and soul. I cleaved myself in two so that I could be the woman who had a tryst in back rooms with her boss while also being the mother who called her daughter and practiced spelling bee words an hour later.

Maybe it was because I knew this happiness wouldn’t last that I was so desperate to experience it. Just this once, I wanted something that was perfect and beautiful and mine. I wanted the image of Cole looking at me like I was the only woman who mattered. I wanted the taste of his skin and the shape of his body embedded into my psyche, because I knew that all I’d have after this ended were memories.

The night before we flew back to New York, Cole knocked on my door. I opened it and smiled at him, and we said no more than a handful of words to each other before the bed dipped beneath our weight. He framed my face with his hands and kissed me slow and deep.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he whispered, running his lips along my jaw. “I can’t believe I found you again.”

Words stuck to my throat. I couldn’t believe it either, but the reality looming ahead of me was beginning to bear down on me. Instead of answering, I turned my face toward his and caught his lips in mine. We made love then, and maybe it was the first time that I realized everything I was losing. Everything I’d already lost.

He was gorgeous, smart, hardworking, funny, and brave. He made me feel like the best version of myself, like I could do anything I wanted to because I was me, and I was incredible. He made the colors of my world brighter simply by existing in it.

I was hopelessly, incurably in love with him.

And I would break his heart.

As the sun rose on fly-out day, I tried to cling to the last moments we had in this secret cocoon of ours. I trailed my fingers along his pecs and down across the muscles of his abdomen. I traced lines between the freckles dotting his left arm and brushed my lips over his shoulder. The rasp of his stubble felt like heaven against my cheek, my breast, between my legs. His hair was heavy silk between my fingers, and his voice was a low rumble that made everything inside me tighten.

When we were sated, he lay down next to me and pulled me against his side. “I’m going to tell my father about us,” he announced.

My body turned to stone. “When?”

“As soon as I talk to Alba. I don’t want to blindside her by telling people before she’s ready.”

“That’s generous, considering she’s the one who broke up with you.”

Cole met my gaze, his fingers trailing along my temple. “I’ve realized that she was right about a lot of things. Her breaking up with me was a gift, and I’m not going to thank her by being a dick about it.”

Surprisingly, that was the moment my heart chose to break. In that simple sentence, I saw exactly the shape of Cole’s character. He wasn’t vindictive. He wasn’t selfish. Even in the face of certain conflict with his father and the vice-chairman of the board of directors of his company, he wasn’t taking the easy way out.

Cole was exactly the type of man I’d want to have in Evie’s life. He was everything good and brave and right. He would make a fantastic father.

It was a cruel joke that as soon as I realized it, I also knew he could never be a father to her while also being the man for me. We were doomed.

“You’ve gone somewhere,” he said.

Gulping, I shook my head. “I’m here,” I lied.

“You’re worried about what people will think?”

I opened my mouth. “No,” I started. The words marshaled themselves in my head, ready to be spoken. I’d been a coward long enough. These past days—hell, these past months—had been unbearably selfish of me. A man as decent and honest as Cole deserved the truth. “Cole, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He frowned. “Okay.”

Seconds dragged by. I took a deep breath. “After we met⁠—”

A phone rang across the room. We both jumped. On the desk, Cole’s phone was all lights and buzzing and noise, rattling against the hard surface and jiggling the keys he’d placed atop it.

“Hang on, let me silence it,” he said, flinging the covers off. He pointed to me. “Hold that thought, Carrie.”

I nodded, grabbing the sheet and pulling it up to my chest. I watched him walk to the desk, stop, and frown. The phone went silent and immediately began to ring again.

Cole glanced at me. “It’s Alba. She wouldn’t call unless she needed something. Do you mind…?”

I waved a hand, smiling weakly. “Of course.”

“Alba?” Cole said, turning his back to me. “What’s wrong?”

I stared at the wall directly across from me, breathing deeply, trying to find the exact right sentence that would soften the news I had to deliver.

“Mrs. Enders,” Cole said, straightening. His tone shifted, and I looked at him, frowning. “What’s wrong?” A long pause. “Slow down. Please, Mrs. Enders, I can’t understand—in the hospital?” He glanced over his shoulder, met my gaze, then looked away. Long fingers came up to massage the bridge of his nose. “Okay. I’ll be back in New York in a few hours and I’ll come straight there. Everything will be okay. Yes, I believe that. All right. See you soon.”

The sheet was crumpled between my fists, clutched up near my chin. I forced myself to relax my fingers and asked, “Is Alba okay?”

“That was her mother,” he said, his brow furrowed deeply. “Alba was in a car accident. She’s in the hospital.”

“Oh my God.”

“She’s stable. She took a company car, and Paulie was driving…” Cole swore. “I should’ve fired him. Why didn’t I fire him? Why did I let Kaia convince me… I have to—” He looked up and seemed to remember it was me he was talking to. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head as he came to sit on the edge of the bed. “What were you going to tell me?”

Oh, only that you’re a father and I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I shook my head. “Nothing. Go. I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.” He dressed quickly, then walked over to my side of the bed and planted a kiss on my forehead. “See you tomorrow.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. When the door closed behind him, I felt very alone.