Page 74 of Hating the Boss

“Look,” he said sternly. “At this point, I don’t care who you marry. But do it already.”

I scoffed. He was being insane.

“I mean it, son. You need to show that you are a family man. Stable and loyal and loveable with a woman on that damn arm of yours.” He jutted his finger into my bicep.

“Or what?” I challenged him.

“Or you’ll be hearing from the board. I won’t be able to stop whatever hostile takeover they have planned when they know we’ve lost our biggest client all because of your ‘lifestyle.’ You will be kicked out and there will be nothing I can do about it.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I spat. “So you can stay on as CEO until you leave this miserable earth.”

I regretted the words as soon as they tumbled out of my mouth, but I had already turned on my heel and walked out the large wooden doors. I had to find Sarah and fix all this.

Chapter 29 Sarah

Brittany was already at my apartment when I walked defeatedly through the doors, feeling like a walking juxtaposition in a glimmering gown in a shabby Brooklyn apartment. She was perched on the couch in her red matching pajama set with Jessica, also in her pajamas, both of them waiting expectantly. I realized this was not the first “emergency” text I had sent her in the past few weeks. It was a miracle she wasn’t growing tired of them.

“Hi,” I said weakly, dropping my beaded clutch on the entryway table.

“First…stunning!” said Brittany, trailing her finger in the air from my head to my toes. “And second…what the hell is going on? It’s barely 9 p.m.! What happened, Cinderella?”

I could already feel the tears forming behind my eyes. A surprise to me because I thought I had already cried them all out in the cab, feeling like a stuffed pastry in the backseat as the driver played sad slow jams. He could have helped me out with an upbeat pop playlist, but maybe he was going through his own heartbreak.

“I left,” I said, walking toward the couch, the two of them making room for me. I plopped down between them with a poof, the skirt of my dress taking over the couch. Jessica. Brittany. I should probably have changed, but before I could, a quiet sob escaped me. It came from somewhere deep in my chest. It felt suffocating.

“Oh, sis,” said Jessica, scooching closer and not caring that she sat on a dress that probably had a price tag with more zeros than either of us could comprehend. I didn’t care either. I leaned in to my sister’s embrace and cried onto her shoulder. Brittany rounded the couch and leaned over the back, gently stroking my head.

After several minutes of crying and trying to get my wits about me, I stood from the couch. Suddenly, I was very eager to get the dress off. I excused myself and walked quickly to my bedroom. The gown that once made me feel like a princess, now felt like it was suffocating me, growing heavier and tighter with each minute I had it on. I pulled at the back zipper until it gave way and pooled at my feet in a giant, beaded, fluffy heap on my bedroom floor.

I stared down at it sadly. Tonight had turned out so differently than I had pictured. What was supposed to be a romantic night with the man I was falling for turned into a disaster. I had spent more time alone, or with that awful woman, than I had with Brad. He had left me. Left me to fend for myself in a world I didn’t know. In a world I didn’t fit in.

Not only that, but he had been keeping a secret from me this whole time. A secret that smacked me right in the face when she sauntered up in a ridiculously beautiful, black dress with a ridiculously beautiful face. It was too bad she was rotten inside.

I kicked the dress aside and changed into an oversized, faded pink t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. I pulled the bobby pins from my hair, the tension from my updo releasing with each curled tendril that fell. Washing my face in the bathroom, I spotted the pregnancy tests on the ledge of the sink, and my stomach did a flip.

Somehow, throughout everything that happened tonight, I had almost forgotten that I was pregnant. It stared me in the face right now. The word looking up at me, carrying so much weight. I carefully picked them up and slid them into the small pocket of my shorts, knowing I had to tell Brittany and Jessica, who were waiting impatiently on the other side of the door.

“You better?” asked Jessica softly.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t.

“Now, tell us what the hell happened,” said Brittany, crossing her arms protectively. I took my place on the couch between them once again, feeling much more comfortable in soft cotton than a wired bodice. I took a deep breath and told them everything that had happened that night.

“That bitch!” said Brittany loudly, her eyes fiery.

“That asshole,” muttered Jessica, shaking her head.

“Yeah,” I agreed with both statements.

“Do you think she’s telling the truth? Are she and Brad really getting back together?” asked Jessica speculatively.

It was something I hadn’t questioned. Why would someone make something like that up? Surely, Angela couldn’t be that awful of a human being. But then again, they had called their engagement off for a reason. Maybe she was the reason.

I still didn’t know why they had called it quits. I had thought of asking Brad that day in the park when we were both opening up, but I never did. He had never once mentioned being engaged, and I didn’t want him to think I had been nosy and looking him up. I supposed I had never told him about my short-lived engagement either.

This was just another reminder of how little we knew about each other. Yet, it hadn’t seemed to matter before. My feelings for him were strong, and I was ready to tell him that tonight, in hopes he felt the same.

“If she is telling the truth, they deserve each other,” I said.