by Cat Johnson
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Of course, she is. Because my mother didn’t have enough to complain about already.”
I tipped my head. “Well, think of it this way. Maybe she won’t be so eager to visit again real soon.”
“I like the way you think.” Sarah smiled. “And you know what? Sometimes your annoyingly overwhelming optimism comes in handy.”
“Um, thanks, I guess.” I frowned, not sure if I’d been insulted.
“You’re welcome. And you know what else? Maybe they’ll leave early. Then we can put Stewie to bed and retire early ourselves.” She waggled her eyebrows.
I laughed. “And I love the way you think.”
In fact, I loved everything about her.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sarah
We walked into a ballroom that was swimming in a sea of tables.
Boone leaned in close and whispered, “Which one is he?”
“Who?” I asked, glancing up from the place card where I’d been trying to find the number for the company’s table.
“The douche you work with who stole your idea.”
I shot him a warning glare. “Do not start anything with him. Boone, promise me. My boss is going to be here—”
“I won’t start anything. I swear. I just want to know.”
Since he’d been able to control himself at the wedding last month when faced with Greg, I figured he should be able to handle Jerry, so I said, “Fine. I trust you.”
“You’d better,” he growled, which did things to my lady parts.
I glanced around and saw the pattern of the table numbers. It looked like ours was along the wall near the back. “Come on. He’s probably at the table.”
“All righty. Lead the way,” Boone said, sounding suspiciously upbeat.
Jerry was indeed at the table. I guessed I could consider it good luck that he was there alone. Kim, her husband, and Mr. Rockland had yet to arrive. At least this confrontation, if there was one, would have a limited audience.
“That’s him,” I whispered, before forcing a smile I didn’t feel and saying, “Hello, Jerry.”
“Sarah.” His gaze went to Boone. One of his brows twitched up.
Ha! Yes, I could get a hot young guy as my date, you old bastard.
I kept that to myself but it was with glee that I could say, “Jerry, this is Boone Morgan . . . my boyfriend.”
Now his brows really did shoot up. Jerry stood and offered a hand to Boone. Boone took it, and when he didn’t throw Jerry into some sort of pro wrestler body slam, I thought I was in the clear.
Then Jerry leaned in and said softly to Boone, “You know, I had her first.”
I watched as, just for a second, confusion and then realization dawned in Boone.
He squeezed Jerry’s hand tight, not letting go even when Jerry tried to pull away.
Amazingly, Boone smiled as he said, “But I've got her last. And as you can see, her taste has improved greatly since you.”
Only then did Boone drop his hold still showing a good amount of strong white teeth.
To an outside observer, the interaction would look cordial enough. But I knew Boone better.
Jerry didn’t know how much danger he was in. I’d finally spent some time with Boone on the farm. I knew that he threw around fifty-pound bales of hay on a regular basis. He roped and wrangled cows. He split firewood and dug fence post holes by hand. He’d have no problem making Jerry pay for his comment with his bare hands.
I was still spinning that Jerry had actually told Boone about that one night of poor judgement on my part when Boone said, “If you’ll excuse us. There are some important people we need to talk to.”
Jerry’s eyes narrowed at the insult as Boone pulled me away from the table.
Boone seemed calm . . . on the outside. But I had a feeling he was seething on the inside. The speed with which he marched us away from Jerry was indication of that.
When we were well out of earshot and out of sight, Boone stopped our retreat and turned me to face him.
“You seriously slept with that douchebag?” He kept his voice low, but I still felt the force behind it.
I should have known a mistake that epic would eventually come back to bite me in the ass. Now that pigeon had come home to roost. It was my day of reckoning. It could cost me Boone.
My heart pounded until I felt sick to my stomach.
I forced myself to meet Boone’s gaze. “It was not even a month after Greg dumped me. I was in a bad place. Jerry was brand new at the company. He hadn’t even been there a week yet. He definitely hadn’t shown his true colors yet. He invited me out for a drink after work. I went. I drank. I took him home. Only that one time. I wasn’t going to repeat it anyway, but I really wasn’t going to once I found out he still had a serious girlfriend back where he’d moved from. I guess he figured he’d keep a long-distance thing with her and have me on the side. He was wrong.”
“Son of a . . .” Shaking his head, Boone cut off the sentence even if we were nowhere near the swear jar.
“Anyway, I’m so sorry. It was months before I met you. It was a huge mistake. And I’ll regret it forever.”
“I get it. We all have stuff in our past we’d rather forget. You don’t have to apologize to me—”
“Yeah, I do. I do, because . . .” I swallowed hard and then said, “I love you.”
A mix of emotions crossed his face at my confession. I bit my lip as the agonizing seconds passed.
Finally, he smiled. “That’s really good to hear. Because I’ve loved you for a long while now.”
All of the stress and worry flew out of me in a whoosh on my exhale. “Why didn’t you say it?”
He tipped his head to one side. “I had to be sure you were in the right place to hear it.”
Again, Boone had proven to be one of the smartest people I knew.
“I’m ready now,” I said.
“Good. Because I plan on saying it often, everywhere and in front of everybody in hearing distance. Here. At the Autumn Fest tomorrow. At the family party tomorrow night.
I drew in a breath. I should have guessed that being loved by Boone would be a non-stop, over-the-top adventure. And, for once, I wasn’t going to shy away from it.
Standing on tiptoe, I pressed a kiss to his lips and said, “I can’t wait.”
“Sarah? Is that you?”
At the sound of Kim’s voice, I took a step back from Boone and accepted her hug.
“I didn’t recognize you behind that big hunk of man,” she said softly enough only I would hear.
I ignored the comment and said, “Kim, this is Boone. Boone, this is my direct supervisor Kim and her husband Dan.”
While the men shook hands and discussed which open bar had the shortest line for them to get us drinks, Kim pulled me aside.
“Oh. My. God,” she mouthed soundlessly.
I smiled and agreed. “Yeah. He’s pretty special.”
“So you finally let yourself give in and have a little fun?”
“Actually, it’s more than that.” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
She smirked. “How much more?”
“The L-word might have been said, by both parties.”
Her mouth opened on a gasp. “Good for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world.” Her gaze cut past me to the company table. “And you deserve a medal for working with you know who on this current project.”
I restrained myself from turning around. I didn’t need to. I knew she was talking about Jerry. “True. But you know, in spite of it all, I think the campaign has turned out pretty good.”
It might be Jerry’s commercial that would air during the Superbowl in February, but it was my social media campaign that was currently killing it online. The client was happy. And that made the boss very happy.
Kim let out a snort. “You always do understate things. Your campaign isn’t pretty good. It’s freaking amazing. You missed the cutoff for this year’s awards but there’s no d
oubt in my mind that this time next year, your name is going to be on that nominee list for best new product campaign.”
“I don’t know about that . . .”
“You wait and see.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “We’ll see.”
My gaze hit on Boone, walking toward me with Dan, a wine for me and a beer for him in his hands as he laughed at something Dan had said.
Maybe Kim was right about the award. Lord knows, stranger things had happened. Strange, but good. Oh so good.
EPILOGUE
Boone
Sarah's company's table at this year’s award ceremony wasn’t buried near the back of the ballroom like it had been last year.
Oh no. This time we were right up front along with the rest of the nominees.
I was so excited for Sarah, you’d think I was up for an award instead of her. Even the presence of the douchebag from her company couldn’t ruin this night.
Reaching out, I squeezed her hand. “Nervous?”
“No . . .” She cut her gaze to me and added, “Maybe.”
“When we win this thing, I’m asking for a raise,” Jerry, aka dick wad, declared.
I noticed he’d waited until the boss wasn’t at the table to announce that, in true cowardly fashion, so I decided his new name would be the Ball-less Wonder.
Amused with myself, I leaned over and pressed my lips to Sarah’s cheek before I whispered, “You going to ask for a raise too?”
She glanced sideways. “You know what I’m going to ask for.”
I couldn’t help my grin. I did know. And my heart sped every time I thought of it.
Sarah’s phone buzzed on the table and I saw her sister Liza’s face show on the display. Sarah hit to connect the video call. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey, did you win yet?” she asked.
“We’re still waiting for them to start the awards.”
“Okay, well call or at least text me the minute you know.”
“I will. Give Stewie a good night kiss from his auntie.”
“And from me,” I leaned in and said.
Sarah repeated, “And from Boone too.”
Liza laughed. “I will, but you do know that means he won’t stop talking about Boone for the rest of the night.”
I grinned, happy I’d made an impression on the kid so he wouldn’t forget about me before he visited again.
Sarah smiled. “Lucky for you his bedtime is soon.”
Sarah’s sister Liza had been home for six months. And, consequently, after her return Stewie had gone back to living with his mom. That also meant Sarah had moved out of the Van de Berg house and back to her own apartment.
It was only about an hour and twenty minutes away, but it might as well have been a thousand miles. At least that’s what it felt like having to say goodbye to her every Monday morning when she left for work, and then counting down the days until Friday night when she’d be back in Mudville.
I didn't mind staying with her in the room she rented at Mudville House on weekends, but after living with her and sharing her bed every night for six months, seeing her only three nights a week sucked.
But that all was about to change. Tonight.
Something else would be changing tonight as well, if I was lucky.
Just as Sarah said goodbye and disconnected the call with her sister, the presenter for the evening took the stage.
“Showtime,” I whispered, laying my hand on her back to let her know, win or lose, I was there with her.
Kim rubbed her hands together. “Here we go. Good luck, everybody.”
I saw Sarah’s boss, Mr. Rockland, standing along the wall. Either he was too nervous to sit, or the man was so confident they were going to win, he was up and ready to take the stage. After having met the man twice now, I voted for the latter.
The presenter read the names of the nominees.
A short fifteen-second ad clip from each nominee played on the big screen.
It might have been Jerry's Mars idea they'd used, but I saw Sarah's influence in it. No longer was it a whacky space version of an outdated family dynamic. In the final commercial, the husband was in the kitchen with the wife and the child as they all cooked as a family using the MOD device to search for recipes on the screen that was built into the fridge door while watching a show playing on a tablet on the counter.
I cheered extra loudly for Sarah's company's commercial. Then it was time to announce the winner.
“And the award for new product campaign of the year goes to . . . Premiere Advertising for the MOD.”
I was watching Sarah, not the presenter, when he said the name. Her eyes went wide. She turned open mouthed toward me. “We won.”
“Yes, you did.” I laughed at her shock, even though I was pissed that even though it was Sarah and needle dick’s campaign, the boss got to take the stage to accept the award and make the acceptance speech.
I watched as he made his way to the mic where he basically took full credit for the work I knew he’d done none of.
He doled out some praise to Jerry by name for being the driving force behind the Superbowl commercial which had, as he put it, put NetOne’s new MOD product on the map. Sarah he threw in at the end with a thanks for her work on the social media portion.
My blood boiled. I’d heard that expression before, but I’d never felt it until now. “Son of a—”
Sarah laid her hand on my arm, stopping me from owing a big contribution to the swear jar I’d kept going over the past year, even after Stewie moved back home.
“Boone, it doesn’t matter. A win is good for all of us. The whole company. It doesn’t matter who did what.”
That didn’t mean she shouldn’t get the credit she deserved for being the driving force behind an incredibly successful social media campaign that the client had told her was getting ten times ROI on Facebook ads.
Yes, I now knew about things like return on investment. I enjoyed talking to Sarah about her work.
I’d enjoy it even more when she was working from Mudville instead of driving back and forth each weekend.
Once the congratulations and general all-around backslapping at our table was done, Sarah leaned forward to touch her boss’s arm. “Mr. Rockland. I actually have something I’d like to speak to you about.”
“Now?” he asked, frowning.
“It seems like as good a time as any,” she said.
I had to agree. I knew what she was going to say. I was surprised she’d chosen now to do it, but I was all for it. One hundred percent. Strike while the iron was hot. Hit up the boss while he was still glowing with the win.
She stiffened her back, sitting up ramrod straight as she began, “I’d like to start working remotely. Of course, I’d be available for travel, and client meetings, and I could come into the office when absolutely necessary, but I honestly believe I can be just as productive, if not more so, working from home.”
He shook his head. “I’m not—”
“And,” she interrupted him. “Though I’d really like to stay with Premiere, and I do hope you’ll approve my request, I am prepared to leave the company if you don’t.”
I’d never been so proud of her as I was at this moment.
“You’d quit?” Jerry asked, looking completely shocked.
The dick weed was probably worried he wouldn’t be able to steal any more of her good ideas if she left.
“I’d never quit the business. I love what I do. But I’ve looked into it, and I’m pretty sure I can make a good living on my own. In that case, of course, I’d be available to work with Premiere as a freelancer, consulting on a client-by-client basis.”
I leaned closer to Kim’s husband Dan and said, just loud enough for everyone to hear, “You should see the space she’s rented. It’s the whole second floor of a nineteenth century office building on Main Street. It’s wide open, like a loft. Exposed brick. Big windows. I’m excited to start work building her office space.”
Of course, I was even m
ore excited about building a bedroom for the two of us, since she was planning on turning the majority of the space into an apartment.
My evil plan worked. Her boss looked as if he took her a little more seriously now that he realized she had somewhere else to go. That she had already rented a space.
“I must admit, this has come as a complete surprise,” he began.
I bet it did.
“I’d like to think about it. We can discuss it first thing Monday morning,” he continued.
Sarah stiffened when he basically told her rather than asked her if she could meet then. “I’ll check my schedule and see if I’m available Monday morning and get back to you.”
That was my girl. I fought the urge to cheer for her for standing up for herself.
I didn’t miss Kim’s subtle thumbs up. Smart woman. She was on Sarah’s side.
Of course, there was a good chance the boss could let her go. But Sarah had planned for that contingency. She was too organized and smart to take this leap without a safety net.
She’d been saving her money for years and had a nice nest egg. And the Mudville rental was half what she was paying for her apartment now. She’d make it work. And I’d be there to help her.
As Mr. Rockland sat, looking flabbergasted, Sarah turned to me. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” I answered without a second thought.
She made some excuse about our needed to head out, said a quick goodbye to her co-workers, all of whom displayed various degrees of surprise at our quick departure, and then we headed for the exit.
We didn’t get much farther than just outside the front door of the hotel before I had to stop and kiss her.
“I’m so proud of you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll probably be cleaning out my desk Monday after that meeting.”
“And if you are, so what? You’ve got it all worked out. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, I will.” She smiled.
We were standing in front of the hotel’s fountain, big and ornate, illuminated by white lights and surrounded by flowers.
It seemed like as good a place as any. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the ring, and dropped to one knee.
