Page 49 of Sexy Bad Boss

She finally stops moving to stand in front of me, her shoulders pulled back, her arms at her sides. “No, James. I can’t do this anymore.”

“What? Your job? I mean, I suppose I can pick up training Alex.” I shudder. But if working with him day in and day out is the price I must pay to have Myra by my side, I suppose it’s worth it. No, really, it’s worth it.

She throws her hands into the air and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “Why did I wait? Why did I bother? Why did I keep hoping? I am such an idiot. No, was. Was an idiot. Not anymore. I’m through playing this game with you, James. Do you hear me? I’m done. It’s over. I will ensure Alex is fully trained, but I am not staying here a single day longer. I can’t. Training him is the very last thing I will ever do for you, James Frost.” Her eyes are spitting fire, but her bottom lip is quivering, like she’s holding in a sob.

“I don’t understand,” I say honestly.

“We are terrible at communicating, James. Both of us. And I’ve finally realized we’ll never get it right. Which means this”—she wags a finger between us—“will never be right, either.”

“What are you talking about? We communicate every single day.”

She shakes her head. “No, we don’t. Not the way we should.” Turning away from me, she walks toward the door, dragging her luggage behind her. “Good-bye, James.”

“Where are you going?” I call out.

She pauses with her hand on the doorknob but doesn’t turn around. “I’ve been offered another job.”

That’s wonderful news. That makes this entire process so much smoother. That’s—

“In London.”

***

It’s not easy to chase after the woman you love when you’re relegated to a wheelchair. I needed someone to drive me to her apartment, since I can’t at the moment. Lucky me, the winner was my mother. Luckier still, she insisted on taking me to the doctor before she would do any other damn thing.

Except bitch at me about my status as a single man with no prospects on the horizon.

“Mother,” I say after we’ve left the doctor’s office with a brand-new scooter contraption that you rest one leg on and push around with the other and an approval to resume living life as normally as possible. “I have a prospect. I just have to get to her.”

I have no idea if she’ll be there when we arrive at her apartment. I’ve called and texted and even emailed, but she hasn’t responded to my pleas.

“And tell her how I feel, without screwing it up this time.”

“Myra?”

I whip around in my seat and stare at her as she fastens her seat belt and cranks the engine. Considering I asked her to take me to Myra’s apartment, and I may be acting a tad bit like a chicken with its head cut off, I suppose it shouldn’t be shocking that Mom pieced it together. Still, am I the only person who didn’t realize this thing was simmering between us?

“What?” she asks, giving me a bland look. “The woman’s been in love with you for years. I can’t believe she hasn’t told you until now.”

“She didn’t.” I watch the scenery as it zooms past the passenger side window.

“Well then, what happened?”

I cannot possibly attempt to explain this to my mother.

“You clearly need the practice in communicating,” she points out. “So practice on me. Maybe I can give you some advice. You are trying to win her back, I assume?”

“I don’t think I ever had her in the first place.”

“Yes, you did. You just didn’t realize it.”

We arrive at Myra’s apartment building to discover the elevator is down for maintenance. Since Myra isn’t answering her phone, I send my mother up to her third-floor apartment to try to convince her to come down to talk to me. If anyone can, it’s the Frost matriarch.

My heart plummets to my toes when my mother returns alone, huffing from the exertion of climbing those stairs.

“She’s not there,” she says, pressing her hand against the wall while she catches her breath. “I knocked on doors until one of the neighbors responded. She said Myra left with several bags. She had the impression she was going on a long trip.”

Dear God, she really has gone to London.