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I spend the rest of the day trying not to think about her as I try to make sense of what is going on with the Miami hotel. I was supposed to go to Miami this morning, but I had to change my plans because of Jess. It felt so wrong to leave when she was still in my bed.
This morning, when I woke up with her sleeping next to me, I found myself enthralled as I watched her sleep, and I ended up canceling my flight. I could always reschedule the meeting after all—one of the perks of being the boss. That moment was precious, a moment I will cherish forever, as I now have it etched into my memory.
After finding some discrepancies in the figures, I send an email to the manager in Miami, scheduling a one-on-one meeting with him and the accountants on Wednesday.
They had better have a good explanation for this, or they would be kissing their jobs goodbye. But that will be after they’ve paid back every missing cent.
By seven, I throw on a shirt and black jeans and drive myself to Mom’s for dinner. She’s making her famous roast chicken for roast, and we are having dinner.
As I walk through the door of my mom’s house, the aroma of her famous chicken roast hits me, instantly bringing a smile to my face. It’s comforting to be back in the familiar surroundings of my childhood home, surrounded by the people I love.
Mom greets me with a warm hug, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Ethan, darling, so good to see you!” she exclaims, planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Hey, Mom,” I reply, returning her hug with equal enthusiasm. “Smells amazing in here. Is dinner almost ready?”
She nods, her smile widening. “Yes, just putting the finishing touches on everything.”
“Where is Amy?” I ask.
“Anywhere but my kitchen. That girl almost burned down my kitchen this afternoon because she was trying out some silly recipe she found on YouTube.”
I throw my head back, laughing. “She still has refused to give up on cooking.”
Mom rolls her eyes, giving a shake of her head. “I’ve banned her from going into my kitchen.”
“I can hear you guys.” Amy pads into the living room sock-foot.
“It’s a good thing, so you get to hear again—that I don’t want you in my kitchen.”
Amy scoffs, sarcastically adding, “You guys are so unsupportive!”
“Yeah, so long as it doesn’t involve you burning down my kitchen.”
“It was an accident!” Amy feigns anger as Mom disappears into the kitchen, not paying her any heed.
I join Amy on the couch, unable to contain my amusement at the banter between her and Mom. Despite the teasing, it feels good to be home, surrounded by my family’s familiar dynamic.
“So, how’s work been?” Amy asks, turning to me with genuine interest.
I lean back against the cushions, stretching out my legs. “Busy, as always. You know how it is.”
Amy nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I can imagine. But hey, at least you get to boss people around all day.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, believe me. Dealing with incompetent employees can be more exhausting than doing the work yourself.”
“Well, I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah, sure, you can’t.”
“Have you considered giving me the job yet?”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“But why can’t you just give me a job?”
“Because you have no experience.”
“But how will I get any experience if you don’t give me a job?” she retorts.
