My Boss’s Secret by Taryn Quinn

Thirteen

I staredat my best friend with the increasingly angry rain slashing between us and echoing on the cardboard box Preston was now brandishing like a shield. One thought was looping over and over in my head.

Her name is April.

She wasn’t just my mystery woman anymore. My Cinderella. The woman who’d filleted my heart and tossed it into the sea before taking off without a backward glance.

And I could make fun of my best friend for falling in love with a witch? I’d become more fanciful than any twisted fairytale.

As for the rest of what he said, what the hell?

“I have my own firm,” I said as if we’d just met and he was ten steps behind.

“Yeah, you do, but you’re not happy there.” He lifted his voice above the rain. My clothes were sticking uncomfortably to my skin and still, all I could think of was April. “You keep dumping more and more work on Eli.”

“No, I don’t. He likes the work. He’s taking on more by his own choice. As is Cord.”

“Even so, where you are now, you’re just a cog in a wheel. One of the biggest cogs, but if you came to work at Shaw, you’d be the top dog.” He blew out a breath and said something I couldn’t comprehend. He seemed at war with himself. “Shit, why am I arguing for this? I’m not his shill.”

“The top dog with Dexter, you mean?” I could barely keep from spitting the name, although before the last hour, I’d liked the dude.

I wasn’t as close to him as I was to Preston, but we’d always gotten along just fine. Truth be told, on the surface, I had a hell of a lot more in common with Dex than Preston.

Christ, did April have a type? Did she like players, despite all her assertions to the contrary? And when exactly had they hooked up? Had I primed the pump, so to speak, for her to come back and get naked with Preston’s brother?

I growled and turned to brace my fists against the hood of Preston’s Jeep. Damn good thing Dex wasn’t here right now because I wasn’t at all sure I wouldn’t kick his ass.

And for what? Maybe sleeping with a woman I’d slept with too? One who had told me she hadn’t been with anyone for a long time? But she’d run out on me without a word, so could I trust anything she said, period?

Even if it had seemed as if I could. I’d looked into her gaze and knew how she felt deep down. Words got in our way sometimes, but her expressive hazel eyes told the truth.

Or so I’d thought.

“Look, let’s get inside. Whether we talk here or my house, I don’t care. Our damn pizza is probably waterlogged.”

Considering the cardboard box seemed to be sinking onto itself and was totally drenched, that was a good guess.

“Yeah.” I exhaled. “All right, a few minutes in the bar.” I motioned for him to head inside.

At least the rain had cooled our tempers. God knows we were both soaked through to the bone.

Emmy took one look at us and offered to remake our pizza on the house. She even brought another basket of fried vegetables to the surprisingly isolated table she found for us in the back of the bar.

As soon as we sat down again and mopped our faces with the napkins, Preston leaned forward. “Start at the beginning.”

I didn’t bother trying to divert him. More than anything, I needed to talk to my best friend. “Yeah, well, before I start there, you need to know I wasn’t entirely honest on the phone.”

He merely cocked a brow.

“I didn’t know her name. We decided on no strings and she stuck to that. I called her Cinderella. Scandalized?”

“What, people having sex without benefit of a wedding ring? Well, I’ll be.” He placed a hand over his heart and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know that Ryan and I desecrated the bench in my yard.”

“I’m thoroughly stunned.”

He shrugged. “I’m opening my mind. Continue.”

“The pineapple slices were actually chocolate-covered strawberries, because they had to substitute fruits after I got off the phone with you. I was just planning to eat them off her when we talked. But we did enjoy the strawberries.”

“I’m so glad.”

“And I never got around to asking her to come back with me. I was getting there though.” I unwrapped my silverware and poked listlessly at a fried cauliflower before dragging it onto my plate.

“So, you lied about a lot.”

“Not lied, exactly. I just painted a picture of what I wished was reality. If I’d thought she would come back with me, I would’ve asked.”

“So, you hang back and hope for the best? That’s your style now?”

He had a valid point. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t the sort of guy not to make my thoughts known. Or to just stand back and let things happen to me.

“We knew each other for under two days. I made it seem like it was longer. I figured you’d tell me I was fucking crazy, which wouldn’t have been out of left field. It was. It is. But it felt right. She made me laugh. I haven’t done that in so long.” I speared my cauliflower and popped it in my mouth, burning my tongue.

Fit my life lately.

“Here you go, gentlemen.” Emmy nudged aside our basket of vegetables with the piping hot pizza. “Hope you enjoy. And here’s a fresh stack of napkins.” She slid them on the table and offered me a wink. “Let me know if you need any assistance.”

“Thanks so much. You’re a lifesaver.” I flashed her a weak smile and ate a fried zucchini, ignoring the accompanying sting from my burn.

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“I’m done with women.”

Preston snorted as he pried off peppers and dumped them on my plate. Apparently, he was giving the onions a go. “Sure you are. Just like my brother. The two of you are supreme horndogs.” Before I could speak, he held up a hand. “I’ll admit, I forgot some of the finer points of the joys of sex. You can say I’ve seen the light.”

“Don’t rub it in.” I ate Preston’s discarded peppers. “It was so good. I mean, so, so good. Like good enough you don’t even care she won’t give you her name if she’ll just keep sleeping with you.”

“Huh.”

“Fine, that’s a lie.”

“Another one? You’re stacking them up.”

“She’s has me all twisted up, man. I didn’t want to let her go, but I couldn’t figure out how to make her stay.”

“Here’s a novel idea. Try telling her what you want.”

“I was going to, then she split. Broken Cinderella heel and all.” Recapping that final afternoon was no picnic, but I had to get it out.

All of it.

“I never intended to take that vacation, but my doctor said it was an imperative. Once that ocean air and sunshine soaked into me, I realized I’d needed it. I hadn’t even taken a weekend off in forever. I hadn’t been with a woman. I hadn’t even spent time with friends.”

“Your doctor?”

“Yeah. I’ve been having some issues.” I ate a slice of pizza then went back for more fried cauliflower, since Preston didn’t seem to be touching it.

“Like what?”

“Stress-related. I had a full work-up. I’m fine. Just dealing with some quickened breaths and rapid heartbeats. Panic attacks is what they’re called.” I hoped like hell my cheeks weren’t red. Admitting the word panic was part of my life on any level wasn’t easy. “But at first, I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“Jesus, Bishop, what the hell? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Preston reached across the table to grab my forearm. “Are you okay? Level with me.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” His concern made me smile. Best friends or not, we didn’t spend the amount of time together we once had, mostly due to work conflicts.

“Can I help? If there’s anything I can do, just give me a damn hint. You’re family.”

Emotion clogged in my throat and I laughed to make it dissipate. “Same, brother. Better than my own, except Mickey.”

“Mickey is pretty awesome.” Sitting back, Preston crossed his hands over his stomach as he studied me. “Did you even get a tan? I can’t tell in this low light.”

“Yeah, a little. We spent a lot of time in the room.”

“I’m still having trouble reconciling this with April. My April. Metaphorically speaking,” he added as I lifted a brow. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a fine assistant. Very capable and intelligent. But she’s not exactly wild.”

“Who’s to say who we are? Don’t we get to decide that?”

“You leaped to her defense so readily.” He flashed me a quick grin. “I’m glad to see it. For her and for you. I was beginning to think you couldn’t get any deeper than a puddle with a woman any more. Fucking Rina.” He didn’t even bother de-peppering his next piece of pizza before he started to eat.

Either they were growing on him or he was more consumed by my story than I’d realized.

“We’d only just begun to get to know each other. But it felt good, being with her. I wanted to learn more about her. To see if we were compatible in more ways than just—”

“Being naked?”

I pulled another slice of pizza onto my plate. “Something like that.”

“So, you went to Fiji and fell in—”

“Fell in interest,” I said, cutting him off.

“Right. Fell in interest. Anyway, and then you came back here and went back to the same job that was slowly draining the life out of you.”

“So melodramatic.” At his hard stare, I released a long breath. “Yeah. Okay. Fine. It takes a lot out of me. But that’s my own fault.”

“You go harder than two lawyers, so yeah, that is your own fault. But you can walk away, you know. You’re not chained to your damn desk.”

“Walk away from being a lawyer? Or just walk into the spot you no longer want?”

My buddy gazed at me for a long moment before dumping his half piece of pizza with a splatter of cheese and grease. “That’s fair. But I never really wanted it. I just never had the balls to admit what I did want. Or to even take the time to explore my options.” He finished his slice and went back for another, then dropped a few peppers on my plate almost sympathetically. “Have you ever considered yours?”

“I’m good at being a lawyer.”

“No arguments. You’re the absolute best.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t check out other avenues.” I ate a few bites, chewing and swallowing. “Tell me about the kinds of cases you have on your plate right now.”

A short while later, the large pizza was mostly gone, and I’d decided I was going to spend Monday at Shaw, Shaw, and Shaw getting the lay of the land. Whether that meant I’d be leaving my firm remained to be seen.

“This isn’t a guarantee of anything.”

“I get that. I appreciate you taking the time to give it a shot. And if it doesn’t feel right, just say no. I’m not sugarcoating my father’s firm. This may just be you climbing out of one cesspool into another. I don’t want that for me—or you.”

I nodded as we paid the bill, ignoring Emmy’s generous offer to pick up the tab for us. We also tipped her heavily. “I appreciate you entrusting your family’s legacy to me. If it works out,” I added.

“Yeah.” He cocked his head, jockeying the box of leftovers I’d foisted onto him. I wouldn’t have eaten what was left. “My father’s a dick. So that is part of that whole legacy.”

“Familial dickdom is often passed down. Not too surprising.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled roughly. “You’re not trying it out because of April, are you?” He didn’t let me answer before he continued. “If you are, I don’t begrudge you that. I would’ve followed Ryan to the ends of the damn earth to make a go of things with her. As it was, I almost did.” He chuckled. “Freaking Rainbow.”

I didn’t know what that meant, and I was too spent to ask. “April is a factor. I want to see her again. But now that I know she’s here in Kensington Square, I wouldn’t need your job to talk to her.”

“Truth.”

I pushed my fingers through my drenched hair. “I just can’t believe we were that close all along. What are the odds?”

“Kismet,” my best friend sagely. “The universe is always at work.”

“I’m kind of scared of this woman of yours.”

“You should be. But just remember—my woman is best friends with your woman, so talk is cheap, dude.”

I laughed and dipped back my head to stare up at the cloudy sky. The rain had momentarily slowed. Pity. It matched my mood.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

“It’ll all work out. Trust me. And I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“You will.” I held out a hand to him, and he pulled me in for a quick, hard hug. “Thanks. For everything.”

He drew back, still examining my face far too closely. “Thank you. Sure you don’t want to, I don’t know, shoot some pool? It’s been a while since I’ve trounced your ass.”

“You wish, Shaw. Go home to your woman.” As thunder crackled in the air, I made myself laugh. Maybe the storm wasn’t over yet. “See, there’s your sign. We’ll talk later.”

He frowned at me, and I tried not laugh at the image he made with his wet hair sticking out at all angles from his head. I also wouldn’t be jealous thinking about him going home to cozy up with his witchy chick while I went home to Santiago, who still hadn’t forgiven me for daring to leave him in the care of the pet sitter. He still wanted to get out to see the poodle down the hall, but too bad, bird. If I wasn’t getting any romance, neither was he.

Especially the cross-species kind.

“You could come with me.”

“I’m not a threesome kind of guy, but thanks for the offer.” I grinned and backed up toward my black Nissan SUV. “Have a good night.”

“We’ll see, since now I have onion breath, you bastard.”

I laughed and climbed behind the wheel. The laughter lasted until Preston’s taillights disappeared out of the lot. He was clearly in a hurry to get home.

Who could blame him?

I was curious about the woman who’d snagged his attention, even if I’d made fun of her…occupation? Was witchery a job or a vocation? In any case, regret curdled in my belly. He seemed happy. Happier than I’d ever seen him, aside from our petty argument and difficult conversation. What kind of best friend was I to tarnish something that seemed so good for him?

A crappy one.

A crappy, jealous, selfish one.

But I’d make it up to him. I’d cook dinner and have them over some night soon. That way I could also properly vet the new chick without being distracted. That was what a friend was supposed to do. I could be happy for him and still look out for the guy. It was my damn job.

As for the other job on the table, I wasn’t going there tonight. I couldn’t deny that the idea of being entirely my own boss—other than working with Dexter, who was currently at the top of my shit list until I determined otherwise—intrigued me, but there were too many other considerations.

I’d worked my way up in the Pierson law group until my name was nearly as synonymous with the firm as the founding partners. Walking away from that history required an offer worthy of—

“Bullshit,” I muttered.

That was money-minded Bishop talking. This was about so much more.

Loyalty. Fidelity. Family.

Three things with a price tag way more than money.

With a flick of my wrist, the truck came to life and the windshield wipers swished futilely at the deluge. The next time we went to Lonegan’s, it would be under much different circumstances. I intended to make sure of it.

And somehow, though I’d demolished part of a pizza and some fried vegetables, I was still hungry.

I needed something more. Something that involved Mickey time.

It didn’t take me long to reach the university section of Syracuse, the city just outside Kensington Square. I drove down tree-lined streets lined with stately mansions, their warm lights burning to keep out the dark. College students clutched warm cups of coffee as they talked and laughed, seemingly unconcerned about the rejuvenated storm. They huddled under hoodies and umbrellas as they kissed and did God knows what else.

Squinting, I made sure none of those cozied-up students happened to be the one I was looking for. Luckily for both of our sakes, she wasn’t.

I shot into the last open parking space at the curb in front of a frat house at the end of the block. It was obviously a party night, judging from the noise level and the amount of students spilling down the towering flight of steps from the wide open front door. While I watched, some enterprising young man did a headstand on a porch railing and tumbled into the hedges with a beer-fueled shriek.

Had I ever been that young and stupid? Definitely on the second. The first felt very far away right now.

I grabbed my phone and texted my sister.

Tell me you’re home.

She replied quickly.

And if I’m not?

If you’re not, come meet me at the diner.

Aw, damn, I’m studying. Now u put the idea of whipped cream on a stack of hot waffles in my head.

Now she’d put it in mine too. I’d be doing a couple extra sessions at the gym this week.

Works for me. I’m parked outside of PZP. I’ll drive us.

Now u’re talking. Give me 5.

She only needed four. That was my always speedy baby sister.

“Hey, jerk.” Michaela shook off the rain as she slid inside my truck and gave me a quick once-over. “You’re soaked.”

“You too.”

“Nice night out there. Finally decided to show proof of life, huh?”

“Yeah, well, I like to do that now and then so you don’t find another brother you like better.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying.

I did my damnedest not to remember I had a brother most days. I wasn’t sure if Mickey did too. We didn’t talk about Key.

“Not gonna happen,” she said lightly before rolling down the passenger window to lean out and yell something indecipherable at someone passing on the sidewalk. She slid back inside with a giggle that made the weight strapped to my shoulders fall away, just for that one moment. “Sorry.” She snapped on her belt. “Had to say bye to my man.”

“Your man? Since when?”

“Since last week. Would you rather I have a woman?”

I thought about it as I signaled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “Depends. Both sexes have their strengths and weaknesses.”

“True. But I’m strictly dickly.” She punched my upper arm. “What about you?”

“I’m definitely not strictly dickly, and you shouldn’t be either. The semester just started. You need to be focused on your last year of classes, not…dick.”

“You’re worse than Dad. He doesn’t ask me about boys.”

“No, as long as you don’t come home pregnant, I guarantee he doesn’t give a solitary shit.”

“There’s truth in that statement. What about you?” she asked again.

“I guarantee I won’t be coming home pregnant.”

“Ugh, you are not even funny. I mean, you were on vacation, right? You bought the killer dress for your princess.”

“My princess?”

“She sounded like one the way you described her. I expected you to text me you’d run off to elope or something and then nada.”

“If we wanted to elope, Fiji theoretically is the place some would run to. So we would’ve been perfectly located for such.”

“Bishop.”

I headed downtown to the all-night diner, well aware I was pissing off my sister. My mood had already lifted just from the easy, familiar rhythm of our conversation. “Hmm?”

“What happened with her?”

“Nothing princess-worthy, sorry to inform you.”

“She didn’t like the dress?”

“Oh, she loved the dress.”

“And the Cinderella shoes? I found the perfect ones.”

Michaela had definitely been my secret wardrobe weapon, that was for sure. “You did. She kept staring at them. Until one broke when she was running away from me.” I let out a dry laugh. “Actually, I’ll take it back. There were some fairytale aspects, minus the pumpkin chariot. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one of those on standby.”

“Aw, Bish. You should’ve stopped me.”

“From asking questions? Nah. It is what it is. And you helped me, so you deserve to know what happened.”

“A total bust happened is what it sounds like.” She flopped back in her seat. “She wore your cute clothes and split? That’s cold.”

“Not exactly what happened.” I signaled into the parking lot behind the diner, veering into one of the few free spaces. Date night and apparently, the diner was the happening place to be.

No wonder women got so excited about Cinderella shoes if diner meals were among the options being presented to them.

“Then?”

I unsnapped my seatbelt. “Let’s stuff ourselves, and you can tell me about your man.”

“Not if you’re not telling me about your princess. Although she’s sounding more like an ice queen at the moment.”

I didn’t respond. She’d put waffles in my head, and that was preferable to thinking about April. The name fit her. Like the first blush of spring before full bloom.

Yeah, I needed to stop the sappy comparisons before I started talking in haiku or something equally flowery. Or worse yet, found my own kitchen witch. I needed to look that up.

When we were tucked into a booth in back with our waffles smothered in mounds of whipped cream and maple syrup, plus a plate of crispy bacon to share—make that three extra gym sessions this week—I told her the sanitized version of what had happened in Fiji.

She didn’t say a word until I was finished, when she leaned forward and exclaimed, “You didn’t chase after her? You just let her dick you over?” At a level just loud enough for the nearest three tables to cease all conversation to stare at me.

Hey, I’d be curious to see who the dickless wonder was too.

“Thanks, Mickey,” I muttered, squirting an unnecessarily large amount of maple syrup on the remnants of her waffles.

She just kept eating. Sugar was her drug. And it better have been her only drug, or I’d do my best dad impression and totally blow up her spot.

Whatever that meant.

“Sorry, but it’s gotta be said.”

“And you said it so most of Syracuse could hear. Appreciate it.” I set down my fork and leaned back in the booth. “Turns out, I know where she is.”

“What? You do? Where is she? Did she ghost you and just hide on the island until you left?”

“No, I’m pretty sure she left that day and came home.” I took a deep breath. Saying the words would make it true, and then I’d have to do something about what I’d learned. “She lives in Kensington Square.” At least I assumed she did, since she worked for Preston. Or close enough.

Michaela’s brown eyes widened comically. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Nooooo.”

Now I was smiling. I couldn’t help myself. “Yessss.”

“What are the odds your shipwrecker would live in the same town? Oh my God.” She pressed her fingers to her lips. “How completely meant.”