Chapter Seventeen
Mia
“Good riddance,” Jay commented as we made it back to my two-room suite.
Jay was my right-hand man. If I went somewhere, he was right alongside me. My assistant helped me manage everything.
“Yeah, he showed his true character by choosing the coward’s way and quitting like that. I had given him a three-week chance to up his game, and he just left me high and dry. I’ll have him replaced by the end of the day tomorrow.” I took off my heels on the couch and rubbed my temples, attempting to ease the tension throbbing in them.
Being a business owner was not all glory and stress-free, as a lot of people assumed. But, alas, I’d made this company into what it was, and I had to deal with it. A gift of being successful and a curse. The more I gained, the more stressful life became.
“So, there isn’t anything left on the agenda for tonight. Interviews have been called for tomorrow, and that’s all for today. Is there anything you need me for?”
He suggestively waggled his eyebrows, which made me chuckle, but I shook my head. I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
“Okay. Well, we’re in New York. Although we’ve been here a bunch, I think we need to get out and do something. I’m sure Logan would agree with me. You need to live a little. Let the load off your shoulders, boss. So, what is something you’ve always wanted to do in the big city?”
I wanted to rest or snuggle up with a book, but I thought Jay was right. I could read anytime. But, now, I was in a city that some people never got a chance to see in their lifetime, and I needed to forget my worries for a little bit. Being in my head was the worst, so this was the opportune moment to do something different.
“I think you’re right. I’ve never had a real greasy, cheesy New York pizza. Only the kind at fancy restaurants for business meetings. I want a hole-in-the-wall, next-to-Chinese-takeout type of place. And I’ve never seen a Broadway show. I’d like to.” There. I’d spoken what I was feeling and didn’t let the should or should-nots get in my way.
“On it, boss. Give me ten minutes. Change out of that horrendous pantsuit, and then we’ll be set.”
Jay got to work on his phone, and I rolled off the couch and marched into my room to find something more suitable for a night out than what I was wearing.
“My pantsuit isn’t horrendous,” I grumbled as I peeled back the blazer and unbuttoned the pants. It was nice business attire.
Once I was down to my bra and panties, I looked in the closet at my choices. Brown pantsuit. High-collar blue shirt with a pencil skirt. Sweatpants and an old T-shirt from college. White blouse and dress pants.
I didn’t know what I should wear for a night out on the town. Everything I had looked like I was going to sue someone if they looked at me funny.
I heard someone knock on the door, and Jay answered it. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything important. Quietly, I cracked the door and stuck my head out, hoping to hear who was there. But Jay closed it and carried what looked to be a large box in his hand.
“Gotta give it to the man. He’s like a psychic in a hot body. Here you go.” He didn’t even glance at my half-naked form from the crack in the door as he set the box down before me. Then, he turned to get back to his work while pulling his tie loose.
My eyes glanced down to the mystery box. I quickly snatched it up and closed the door.
I saw a little note on the top, tied into the blue bow.
Thought you might need a new outfit for a night out on the town.
P.S. No pantsuits.
Logan
“There is nothing wrong with a pantsuit!” I yelled, hoping Jay and Logan, even in Florida, could hear me.
My fingers ripped at the bow and tore open the box with haste. But then they stopped after revealing what was inside. A pale pink shirt and a high-waisted, box-pleated skirt that had large watercolor flowers on it. It looked very pretty and feminine. The blues, reds, and pinks. Almost like cotton candy. Underneath, there were two small, pointed pink heels with a salmon-colored clutch.
I didn’t know why, but Logan buying this outfit for me and knowing that I would need it made me feel some heavy emotions. I didn’t even know what the emotions were called, but they were something. The outfit was simple, not sexy or gaudy. More my style actually. I didn’t care to flash my cleavage to everyone or wear such short skirts that my vagina hung out if I bent over.
It was almost scary how well he knew me, and while I knew I was paying him for this stuff, to make decisions and tell me what to do, this just felt … I didn’t know.
Personal.
Maybe it was my overactive brain reading too much into this, or maybe it wasn’t. Deciding I needed to talk to him, my so-called temporary bestie, I quickly pressed his name on my phone and listened to it ring.
“Logan,” he answered cheerfully.
