Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss?

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Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? Page 17

by Nina Harrington


  Scott’s voice faltered as he pressed his forehead to her flushed brow.

  ‘I have travelled all over the world, Toni. I might have kidded myself that it was for work, but the truth is harder to accept. I needed to prove to myself that I was not a complete failure and that I hadn’t let my family down when I walked away from the firm.’

  ‘Oh, Scott. It was never your fault. Just as it wasn’t mine. I know that now. You have made a difference because the man I love has given his life to his family. And I know how many sacrifices that takes.’ She was stroking the hair back from his forehead now, her fingertips moving through the short curls as she stared into the depths of those stunning eyes.

  ‘I have never felt such an overwhelming sense of belonging than in those few days I spent with you. I didn’t even realize that I was looking for it. Your heart is my beacon home. Wherever you are is where I want to be. Bring me home, Toni. Bring me home.’

  He knelt in front of her as he whispered in a husky intimate voice that she had only heard before in her dreams, ‘I love you and want you to be part of my life, Toni. If you’ll have me?’

  Toni looked into a face so full of love that her heart broke.

  ‘Oh, my sweet darling. How can you ask that? You have to know that I love you. I will love you for the rest of my life. You are the centre of my world.’

  She choked with emotion as Scott stood, swung her up into the air, her arms linked behind his head, whirling her around and around until her feet connected with the chair.

  In an instant Scott lowered her to the floor, grabbed her hand and threw her over his right shoulder as though she weighed nothing.

  He was almost in the middle of the street before she managed to wriggle free and, holding hands, they pulled and twirled each other around and around, heads back, laughing and shouting in pleasure, thick snowflakes falling around them, before collapsing into each other’s arms, their heads pressed together into a passionate kiss.

  It was picture perfect.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from IF ONLY… by Tanya Wright

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  ONE

  Wasn’t fire supposed to be fierce, unpredictable or even dangerous? Micah twirled a strand of her flame-colored hair, wondering how she had lost the spark associated with its vibrant strands. Had the flame been extinguished years ago, or had it been a slow, gradual fade?

  She wasn’t even sure anymore. It was as if the last ten years had all been a lie. She had gone through the motions of healing, of moving on, only fooling herself into believing she was past it. But this semblance of a life was all a facade. It was obvious to her now. She had only buried the pain, denied its existence.

  Until now.

  Half a day spent lying in her bed had done nothing to comfort her like it should. She held the teddy bear Drew had given her close to her body, trying to capture any of its comforting magic, but sadly that too was failing to comfort her. On this dreary day in October, it seemed nothing could assuage the pain. It was like a fresh wound all over again.

  Her phone signaled an incoming text message. Josh’s name appeared on the screen.

  Just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re doing ok. Text me back <3

  She ignored it, just as she had ignored all the others she had received today. She didn’t want to talk to him yet. As her closest friend, Josh had been her distraction, the one who pulled her from depression and back to the land of the living. She knew he would try to shake her from her reverie and she didn’t want that. Instead she chose to stay lost in her memories for just a little longer.

  Throwing her phone aside, Micah decided this pity party needed to be taken up a notch. She rolled out of bed, slipped into a pair of obnoxious but oh-so-comfortable slippers and made her way to the kitchen. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way, she stopped to take note of her once flawless, porcelain skin, now a ghostly shade of white. She looked hollow and empty. Dark circles surrounded her sad eyes. She was in a pathetic state. The last two months of depression had taken a toll on her. Her recent weight gain and carelessness with her appearance did not help the picture before her, but it was an accurate reflection of what she felt on the inside.

  Continuing to the kitchen, she headed straight to the freezer, where a pint of her favorite ice cream was stashed behind bags of frozen vegetables. She had known in advance the ice cream would be needed. Sabina, her roommate, was out running errands and would be gone for a little while longer—just enough time to start a crime-drama marathon while enjoying her frozen vice without judgment.

  But based on the disapproving look on Sabina’s face two hours later, judgment was what she received.

  “What’s going on?” Sabina’s eyes took in everything, her finger hooking the rim of the empty carton of ice cream, lifting it for further examination. “Please tell me you didn’t eat this entire thing by yourself. And what’s with the pajamas? Did you just get out of bed?”

  Micah searched her mind for something to say to defend herself against the barrage of accusations, but she had nothing. She was guilty of all the above.

  “You’ve got to snap out of it, Micah. I know you’re hurting right now. But this has got to end, and preferably soon.”

  “Well, it won’t be today. How can I not think about him on a day like this?”

  “There’s a difference, though. The rest of us are celebrating his life, while you...while you’ve been acting like he just died. It’s been ten years.” Sabina threw her hand up in exasperation. “Come on. We don’t have time to debate this now. You’re in desperate need of a shower and we’re supposed to meet everyone in two hours.”

  * * *

  The bright city lights, wailing sirens, honking horns, aggressive drivers fighting through traffic, the slight fish smell left over from market—things that others might complain about. But for Micah it all signified one thing—Boston, her home. She loved every single bit of it: every angry Irishman, Italian mobster, historical landmark and, not to be forgotten, blessed lobstah.

  Micah and her four friends—Josh, Sabina, Hanna and Jamie—walked the streets of Boston as if they owned the city. Of course, Sabina, a model, probably thought she did. And Hanna probably could in a few years, at the rate she was going. Micah was definitely the odd one out in this successful, good-looking group, but she had put her best foot forward tonight in a worthy attempt to fit in with them.

  It was a Friday night and the city was alive despite the dropping temperatures. As they crossed the busy street together, sounds of Boston’s nightlife came out to greet them. Already-drunk college students littered the streets. One girl in particular stood out as she yelled at every passing taxi, “Do you have a breath mint? Does anyone have a freakin’ breath mint?” What the heck? People were just downright crazy!

  This wasn’t Micah’s scene, but it was a sacred night, hence the heels, fancy top and false eyelashes she’d been talked into wearing. It was probably the first time she had dressed up since last October. Her feet were already killing her in these shoes. Sabina always had a way of talking her into something she knew she would regret later.

  When going out in public with someone as beautiful as her roomm
ate, you had two choices. You could dress up, join her and pray you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, or give up entirely and throw on the yoga pants that had never actually been to a yoga class. Three hundred and sixty-four days of the year Micah chose to give up before she started and donned the yoga pants.

  “Gawd, I love this city at night! Why don’t we do this anymore?” Sabina twirled as she walked, arms wide open, head thrown back. She stumbled a little in her four-inch heels on the uneven cobblestone, but Jamie was quick to catch her.

  “Because we have jobs and lives and because only college students and creepy old people hit up this part of Boston on a Friday night.”

  “If you are going to have any hope of fun tonight, you’re going to have to change that attitude of yours,” Hanna said as she pursed her lips and quirked her eyebrows.

  “My attitude? I don’t have an at—” Okay, maybe she did. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I don’t plan on having any fun tonight. So there.” What was she? Five?

  “It’s Drew’s night. Fun is a requirement.”

  “I never agreed to that rule.” She looked over at Jamie. Although he was Drew’s cousin, they had been more like brothers. She knew out of everyone that he would understand. But in his typical quiet-guy fashion, he shrugged his shoulders, telling her she was on her own.

  “C’mon, Micah. Drew lived for stuff like this, so if we’re really going to honor his memory like we have for years, then we need to have fun. You included. This is what he would have wanted and you know it.”

  “He would not want a droopy-faced, depressed version of his Micah,” Josh said as he put his arm around her to soften his words. “I know these anniversaries are hard on you, but you’ve made it through nine already. What’s so different about this one? You can do it. I know you can.”

  Micah couldn’t refute that. She had done just fine these last ten years. So why was this one so hard on her?

  The crisp Boston air sent a chill through her body. She pulled her coat up higher around her neck and buried in closer to Josh, allowing his sheer size to block the cold October winds whipping between the buildings.

  “Cold?” Josh asked as he pulled her closer and moved his hand up and down her arm in an effort to warm her. “You care to explain why you ignored all my texts today?”

  “Not really.”

  “So you don’t deny it?”

  “No. I was ignoring you.”

  “How much ice cream did you eat today?”

  “None of your business.”

  “What am I going to do with you?” He kept his arm around her and flashed her one of his smiles.

  “I may need to rethink my vice, though. I think I’ve put on five pounds in the last couple months. Even my stretchy pants are starting to feel snug.”

  “Now that’s just bad.”

  “Shut up. It’s a sensitive subject.”

  Josh’s deep laughter rumbled through his chest, but he got the hint and stopped talking about it.

  Every sixth of October the five of them went to the same pub in downtown Boston. They would toast to the memory of Drew and talk about favorite memories, but Micah sensed this year would be different. She couldn’t quite figure out what had changed until they sat down around their usual table and ordered a round of drinks. Scanning the faces of her closest friends, she knew then that Sabina had been right. They had moved on while she was still stuck—stuck in her painful memories.

  The truth hit her like a ton of bricks. She had been living in denial. It was a comfortable and easy place to live. Never addressing reality. Never addressing the pain. Never allowing herself to truly grieve the loss of her first love—her only love.

  Jamie raised his glass. “Here’s to Drew.”

  Five glasses lifted in unison as she wondered if they all knew what she had just come to realize. Did they know she hadn’t dealt with her grief? Were they okay with that? She continued to watch them. It was if they were all thinking the same thing: What now?

  The guys turned their attention to the game playing on the TVs around them. The girls were playing with their phones. For a moment Micah wondered if this might be the last of the tradition she held so sacred.

  Hanna’s phone buzzed. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.”

  Sabina had been whisked away by a group of guys, while Josh had seen some friends at the bar, leaving Jamie and Micah alone. Silence stretched between them. Running her finger across the top of her glass, she wasn’t sure what to say. Her mind was still trying to grasp its latest discovery.

  Her mother had taken her to a counselor when the tragedy first happened. The counselor hadn’t said much, just listened while Micah talked through the emotions that were affecting every area of her life. She’d walked away from the session deciding she wouldn’t let the pain control her anymore.

  Micah had been certain that her grief could be controlled and normalcy restored. So every year, she allowed herself a period of time to grieve. There was no point in thinking about it or dwelling on it all the time. By limiting herself she was able to ignore the pain until eventually she became numb to it. That was how she had survived.

  But as the ten-year anniversary approached, she’d sensed this one would be a more difficult to get through, and allowed herself some extra time. However, she’d failed to anticipate the extent of just how difficult it would be. Thoughts of what her life could have been, what she and Drew might have been doing now.

  Micah caught Jamie looking down at his watch. “You have somewhere to be?”

  “Actually, yeah. I’ve got a ton of work to do back at the house.” He dragged his hand down his face. He looked physically and emotionally drained.

  “On a Friday night?”

  “Yeah. On a farm, my job is never ending. Sorry to do this to you, but I really should go.”

  “Fine. Go.”

  He pressed a quick kiss on her cheek and headed out. Micah shook her head. Jamie was the last one she’d expected to cut out on this ritual. If Jamie could give up on it so easily, then maybe this faithful five wasn’t as indestructible as she had once thought.

  The fact that he had bailed on this commitment, this promise they had made, poured anger into her cocktail of raging emotions. Sure, by now they should all have moved on. But show some respect. This was a tradition among friends. Sacred. It was honoring the memory of a friend they all held dear. But now they acted as if Drew didn’t matter to them anymore. Was she the only one who felt this cavernous hole where he’d once existed?

  Of course, she had been oblivious to it until recently. Numb to the pain that had festered over time. And just when she had let it out, it was like a snowball, building and building until her grief was out of control. She took a deep swallow of her drink and finished it off, then reached for the ones Hanna and Sabina had left behind.

  Years ago, her sadness had seemed like something she could handle with a modicum of ease. So where had she gone wrong? Somewhere along the way, her desire to control the pain had stifled her grieving process. Things that should have been dealt with years ago had been left unaddressed.

  Everything was out of hand. She had lost control. Control of her grief, her emotions, her life.

  Enough was enough. It had been ten years. Tomorrow it would end. She would make it. Maybe finally addressing the denial and the postponed grief was a good thing. She needed to clear it from her system. She would allow herself one more night of sadness, top it off with a lot of drinking, and tomorrow she would put a stop to this once and for all. No more. Tomorrow she would take her life back.

  Her eyes scanned the pub for her other friends. Sabina and Josh were the group’s token flirts. They had captivated the room, their good looks and irresistible charm creating quite a stir. Sabina’s exotic beauty demanded attention everywhere they went.

  Josh di
dn’t have to move. He stood next to the bar and the women flocked all around him like vultures sinking their claws into their prey. Little did they know, Josh was far from being prey. Beware, ladies. Beware.

  When the waitress brought the appetizers to the table, Micah ordered another drink. People always said you could drown your sorrows in alcohol, and tonight seemed like a good enough time to try.

  Josh came back over to the table. “Where did everyone go?”

  “Hanna had to take a call. Sabina is over there, and Jamie left.”

  “He left?” Josh appeared to be just as upset as she was.

  “Yup.”

  “Real cool.” Josh seemed to study her. He had a way of doing that. He could have her figured out in minutes and she hated it. “What’s with you?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. There just wasn’t an easy answer. She had a tendency to bottle up her emotions, and tonight it seemed as though the bottle was full and running over.

  She envied her friends. They seemed to have their acts together, and were experiencing so much more in life than she was. She hadn’t seen it until now. Everything in her life was safe—her job, her friends. She steered away from new friendships, new relationships, new opportunities. Outside of her comfort zone she was susceptible, vulnerable. Her friends had been experiencing life while she was safe in her comfortable cocoon, far from things that could hurt her.

  Now all that she had overlooked or failed to deal with had come back to haunt her. She wanted to feel alive again, not the life of denial she had been living, but like her friends had.

  “You should probably slow down on the drinks. I’ve never seen you drink this much. I wouldn’t even know how to handle you if you got drunk.”

 

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