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She gives a bitter laugh and shoves a lock of her freshly colored hair behind her ear. “I saw him with some other woman at a coffee shop,” she says with a sigh. “I have no right to be upset. We’ve just met, but it felt like there was a connection.”
“I’ve recently been reminded that assuming really does backfire,” I say, thinking, of course, of Cole. “If you like him, don’t shut him out without knowing for sure.”
“I’m really not sure I’m ready to date anyway.”
“You’re beautiful and free,” I say. “Of course you want to date. You’ve lit up over this man and while no man should be the only reason you light up, there’s nothing wrong with them playing a part in your happiness.”
“I feel guilty.” She tears up and sets her cup down. “I really do, and honestly, honey, I also feel angry at your father for leaving us in this hell. He’s why you left school. He’s why we’re here.”
I set my cup down. “I know he is,” I say. “And I’m angry at him too, but we’re a team and we’ve made it. Don’t feel guilty. You don’t deserve that torment. He’s gone, and you deserve to live. And I hate this, but I have to get to work.”
“I don’t,” she says. “I’m back to work and you’re finally living your dream. We did get through this. Or we’re getting through it.”
“And we’re going to get out of here,” I say, walking to the table to grab my briefcase. “I got the scholarship paperwork. With my monthly benefits, we’ll be out of here in six months.”
“I’m fine here,” she says. “I’m not worried about me. I’ve made friends here. I want you out of here.”
“We leave together,” I say. “That’s non-negotiable.” I hug her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
I kiss her temple. “I’ll see you later.”
I head to the door feeling hopeful and thankful, reminded that my mother loved my father, and he loved her, but he was no fairytale Prince Charming. This job is my chance at my self-created Cinderella story. Had my mother created her own, had she retained control, my father couldn’t have left us in the devastating mess we’ve endured. I can’t lose sight of that, no matter how tempting and sexy the boss fantasy might be, and the truth is, it is. Cole is.
After a busy subway ride, I arrive at work and quickly surmise that Reese is in court and Maria is crazy busy preparing emergency documents he needs for some other case. The day is fast-paced, and pure insanity. I interview two candidates for Cole’s secretary by noon with no success. I eat lunch at Cole’s conference table, wishing I knew how Houston was going for him.
My two o’clock interview is also a bust. Three candidates for Cole, and I choose none of them. I hate them all. At three o’clock, I’m out of time. “What do I do, Maria? He needs someone here Monday morning.”
Her brilliant advice that isn’t brilliant at all, is, “Bring the best of them in and hope for the best.”
I reject that idea and head back to Cole’s office, where I call the temp service. I end the call with three interviews lined up for Monday morning.
I disconnect the call and resist the urge to call Cole, or at least text him for an update. It’s my second day. I don’t have a right to be asking for updates on Houston. Instead, I get to work on the rest of my “to do” list, memorizing attendees of the party and analyzing cases that all feel wrong for Cole. I exchange calls with my mother, say goodnight to Maria, and somehow it’s nine o’clock and there is nothing from Cole.
I’m back on my bed working, with a salad this time, when my cell phone rings and it’s him. “Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, and his voice is too weary for me to object to the “sweetheart.” I’d like it if it wasn’t highly inappropriate. If I was ready to live the boss fantasy, but I’m not. “It’s been a hell of a day,” he adds, “but I’m finally on a plane about to take off.”
“Did it work out?”
“It did,” he says, “but I had to climb mountains and hang from a few cliffs. The problem with Houston is there’s a lot of my father’s narrow view left behind.”
“You took over for your father?”
“I was voted into control when he died, but together he and I had controlling interest anyway.”
“That sounds concerning,” I say. “If that mentality still exists, won’t this problem happen again?”
“Not if I’m there a couple times a month, which at this point is a necessity. Reese and I are meeting in the morning to plan pulling as much of the Houston branch into New York as we can. Did you find me a secretary?”
“Yes. Me. I hated all of the candidates. I have three more coming in Monday, but I just couldn’t stick the wrong person in that role.”
“Now you know why I don’t have a secretary. My assistant couldn’t find a replacement, and neither could I.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this,” I say. “But I’m failing on all fronts. I’ve got case files all over my bed right now and I’ve been digging through them for two days. None feel like something worthy of you. They just don’t feel like you.”
The engine roars in the background. “I have to hang up and just when this was going to get interesting. I was going to ask you what feels like me. Get some rest, and Lori?”
