Page 80 of Hating the Boss

“He should be groveling,” said Brittany.

“He should leave me alone and go live happily ever after with his fiancée,” I muttered.

“Are you going to read any of them?” asked Jessica.

I shook my head. I wasn’t ready for whatever he had to say. Nothing he could say could make it better. He had played me, all while keeping his ex-fiancée in his back pocket. I couldn’t understand why he would do that to me after I had opened up the way I had.

Jessica nodded and wheeled herself over to my bedside. She rose out of her wheelchair and planted a kiss on my forehead. It was something so simple, but reminded me of our mother so much. It reminded me of how we only had each other, and how lucky I was to have a sister who took on the role of sister, best friend, and mother. How I strived to do the same for her.

“I wish I could stay, but I have to go to my doctor appointment,” she said, plopping back down in her chair.

“You sure I can’t take you?” I asked, starting to peel the covers off me.

Jessica shook her head and put her hand up to stop me. “I already have a nurse coming to pick me up. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded. The nurse was just another use of the money I had received from Brad, though I felt far from thankful toward him in this moment. Now Jessica didn’t have to rely on me or my work schedule to get to the appointments she needed to go to. Public transportation was too difficult, though Jessica promised she could handle it. I always advised against it and had made my schedule work around her appointments. But now, she had help and that extra bit of independence that put that sparkle back in her hazel eyes.

A knock sounded at the door of our apartment.

“There she is now,” said Jessica chirpily.

“Keep me updated,” I said.

Jessica nodded as she maneuvered her wheelchair toward the doorway. Just before passing through it, she looked back at Brittany, who I wasn’t sure was awake or asleep behind the sunglasses.

“Do you need to come with, Britt? Maybe get an IV?” asked Jessica snarkily.

Brittany lifted her hand up from under the blanket and gave my sister a vulgar gesture that made my sister laugh out loud. I giggled with her, giving her a wave as she disappeared from view. I heard our apartment door open and her nurse greet her warmly, before their voices faded behind the click of the door.

“I take it you’re not going to work?” asked Brittany, shoving the sunglasses up onto her head.

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

I didn’t know what my plan was yet, but going into work and seeing Brad was the last thing I wanted to do. I probably should call in sick, but I couldn’t even do that. I couldn’t hear his voice. This posed a problem, since he was my boss.

I was still his personal assistant, even though it seemed as if our other arrangement was off. He didn’t need me anymore. He had his fiancée or whatever she was, and that was all his father wanted of him to close whatever deal they needed. It didn’t matter if the relationship was real, or if he even actually liked the person, just so long as Brad looked like a man who was “stable.” But he must like Angela. At some point he loved her, enough to get on one knee and propose. The thought formed a hairline crack in my heart.

It all seemed so ridiculous now, as I played it back in my head. These people played games to get what they wanted, without caring about anyone who might get hurt along the way. As long as they got their money or their next business deal, then that was all that mattered to them. I thought Brad was different, though he had never really proved himself to be anything other than a successful billionaire. That power and dedication was something I had admired, even found sexy, but now I just found it sad. Now that I had been collateral damage.

“You know, I have your back either way,” said Brittany softly as she turned on her side and looked at me.

“Thanks,” I said.

Just then a wave of nausea ran through me and I reached down to clutch my stomach. If I had momentarily forgotten that I was pregnant, this was an annoying reminder. I shoved the covers off me and ran for the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I felt as hungover as Brittany looked, but hadn’t enjoyed any wine.

“Uh oh!” called Brittany. “Do you need me?”

“I’m good!” I shouted through the bathroom door just before I emptied my stomach contents.

After I was sure I was done, I flushed the toilet and washed up at the sink. Desperate to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth, I brushed my teeth twice and followed it up with a mouthwash. I hated throwing up with a passion.

I came out of the bathroom to find Brittany perusing my closet. She looked at me worriedly, a white button-down and a pair of jeans draped over her arm.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I probably feel as good as you do,” I said with a soft laugh.

“Yikes.” She grimaced. “You know what will make us both feel better?” She smiled mischievously.