Baby for the Bosshole Read online

  No other woman ever touched me the way she has. No other woman made me long to hold her in my arms the way she did. When I think of Amy, I see a concrete vision of our future—us growing old together, holding hands and smiling as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

  You’re in love with her, you moron.

  And you drove her away out of pride.

  Chapter Fifty

  Amy

  Once Marion receives my text about taking the offer, he moves quickly to have me fly out to Virginia to actually see the office and meet some of the people I’ll be working with.

  The Wednesday flight is tediously long—five hours—but the airline bumps me up to first class. Although I’m not a particularly superstitious type, the upgrade feels like the universe saying, “Virginia is where you belong.”

  Of course, it could also be Satan pulling me into the pits of hellfire. The devil probably doesn’t trick you into going to hell by making the trip difficult and unpleasant.

  Be positive. It’s a new chapter in life.

  True. Right. No need to be so morose about it already.

  I spend the night in a Hyatt. It feels strange to have my phone stay quiet. It used to buzz constantly with notifications from Emmett regarding work or the nursery or things for our baby.

  Did he get rid of the nursery? Maybe throw away the crib and blankets? I hope he donated them. Just because we aren’t going to use them, doesn’t mean somebody won’t.

  Thinking about that gorgeous room sends a pang through me, but I shake it off. I can’t be with somebody just because of a pretty nursery.

  Right now, I need to figure out how I’m going to raise this baby on my own. Emmett’s offer to hire an army of people to help raise the baby so I can still pursue my career isn’t likely to be on the table anymore.

  So, let’s see… The Blaire Group’s salary is much higher than GrantEm’s. Arlington isn’t a cheap city, but it isn’t as expensive as L.A. If I’m careful, I can probably still pay off my loans, save money to buy Dad his retirement home in Florida and have money left over to hire a nanny to watch over the baby while I work. I should run some numbers, create an expense spreadsheet to double-check my thinking.

  The next morning, Dad texts me. I respond without telling him about my life imploding in L.A. I hate to keep things from him, but I just don’t know how to tell him everything. I eat some dry cereal in the hotel lounge and go straight to the office. En route, I text Marion to let him know I’m on my way.

  The Blaire Group is headquartered in a tall blue building that sparkles like a column of sapphire. The lobby is huge, with a pine tree in the center. The golden plaque underneath it states it’s a tree that the founder of the group planted in hopes that the firm would grow strong and stay true to its mission.

  People in business casual scan IDs to get through turnstiles. The sight of a paper copy of the Washington Post on the security desk hits me hard—I’m really in Virginia. I’m leaving L.A.—and all that entails, including Emmett and Sasha—behind.

  “Amy!”

  I turn around and see Marion smiling and waving as he walks past the turnstiles.

  “Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he says, all friendly.

  “No. I just got here.”

  “Aces. Let’s get you up to the office.”

  He helps me get a visitor’s pass, and we take the elevator to the twentieth floor. The Blaire Group office is already a beehive of activity. The space is minimalistic and contemporary, with lots of chrome and glass.

  “We don’t have cubicles or an open-space design,” Marion explains. “For group work, we have the atrium and conference rooms, but otherwise, you get your own office. That way it’s easier to focus on your own work without people interrupting you.”

  He pauses like he’s waiting for praise, so I smile as though being confined to one walled-off space is the most thrilling thing ever. “Super!”

  “Right?” He grins.

  A few people passing by say hello to Marion and give me a curious look. When he introduces me as a new colleague from L.A., something flickers over their faces. What’s with the odd reaction?

  But the tour continues in this fashion, with everyone behaving the same way. If I didn’t know better, I might think the office sent out an internal memo yesterday telling everyone to act weird to prank the new hire. But private equity people are too busy for that sort of stuff.

  The worst part is that Marion seems oblivious. An uneasy feeling starts in my gut, but it’s too late to change my mind about the job. I already declined all the other interviews I had lined up, and I have to have medical for all my prenatal stuff—not to mention when the baby finally comes.

  Marion finally shows me into HR, which is tucked in the back. We walk into the director’s office.

  “Hi, I’m Heather. Nice to meet you.”

  “Hi, Heather. I’m Amy.”

  “Welcome to the Blaire Group. We’re so happy to have you here.” The words roll from her mouth smoothly and perfunctorily, like she’s rehearsed them hundreds of times. “Marion’s incredibly excited.” Her gaze flicks to Marion with a hint of derision, then back to me.

  He laughs, apparently missing the disdain in her eyes. And she specifically said, “Marion’s incredibly excited,” as though she herself couldn’t care less. I note she hasn’t offered me or Marion a seat, making us stand when she has three empty chairs on the other side of her desk.

  His phone pings. “Excuse me. I need to take this call.” Marion walks off, leaving me with Heather.

  “Do you have any questions?” she asks with a polite smile that says she’s busy.

  “Actually, I do. Could I have a copy of your maternity leave policy? It was missing in the packet I received with my offer.”

  Her eyebrow arches. “Are you starting family soon?”

  “Well. I want to be prepared.”

  “It’s on the intranet. We’re paperless for things like that. But I wouldn’t worry too much about taking a few weeks off.”

  “You’re very flexible,” I say, surprised.

  “Well. It isn’t hard to be flexible in certain cases.”

  There it is again. Sarcasm and judgment.

  Enough is enough. I don’t have time for bullshit or intraoffice drama. “If this is supposed to be a prank, it honestly isn’t funny.”

  Genuine confusion pushes out the sarcasm and judgment. “What do you mean?”

  “You and a bunch of people in the office have been acting strange around me,” I say. “I find it off-putting.”

  She frowns. “Nobody ever asked about it before.”

  I cross my arms. “Maybe they were more tolerant of unjustified censure. I’m not.”

  “It’s just…” She sighs, betraying her discomfiture. “Well. Marion’s excited.”

  “You told me that already.”

  “We aren’t.”

  Who is this “we,” and what the hell is this about? My colleagues and I have never had any strong feelings about hiring decisions at GrantEm, unless the new hire turns to be a mistake. But none of the people here had a chance to work with me or get to know me, so that can’t be it.

  “How come?” I ask.

  She sighs softly, then speaks matter-of-factly. “Because when you’re busy and you know your new colleague isn’t going to pull her weight, it’s bound to be irritating. And usually, I’m the one who has to step in and mediate the conflict that arises from such situations.”

  “What a— That’s ridiculous! None of you know me well enough to decide that.”

  She shrugs. “We know Marion hired you.”

  “Just because he might’ve made a few hiring mistakes before—”

  “From GrantEm Capital,” she says. “Look. You only need to stay here long enough to put in the time to keep your signing and relocation bonuses. I’m sure you can pull that off. Now, I need to get back to my real work. If you tell Marion any of this, I’ll deny it, so don’t even think about it.” She gives me a level look before turning to her laptop.

  I’m speechless as I process what she just said. It matches what Emmett told me about Marion before. It dawns on me—painfully—that Marion might’ve hired me not because he was actually impressed with me, but because he wants to have something that used to belong to Emmett. I never considered the possibility because I know I’m one of the best.

  The awful realization that almost everyone at the Blaire Group views me as an unworthy hire stabs into me. I wince, my pride in tatters. If I come here, I’m never going to get a chance to shine. People will exclude me, ensure I’m not involved in projects and initiatives that will help me grow. Sure, I could still come anyway and prove myself so everyone is sorry they were mean to me. That’d make a great movie script, but this is real life. I nearly killed myself trying to show Emmett when I started at GrantEm. I don’t want to have to do the same here, especially not with a baby on the way.

  Maybe if your coworkers don’t expect anything of you, you might not have to put in the hours, which means more time for your baby.

  Yeah, but that also equates no chances to advance, no pay increases or bonuses. And if there’s a layoff, I’ll be first on the chopping block. Then what will happen to me and my baby?

  Marion comes back, putting away his phone, and takes me to lunch. The whole time he goes on about how happy he is and what a great career decision I’ve made.

  But all I can think is: Have I?

  My doubts linger the entire time I’m in Virginia and on my flight back home to L.A.

  This time, the airline doesn’t upgrade me.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Amy

  “How did the office visit go?” Sasha asks early next morning. She didn’t come home until I went to sleep, so we didn’t get to catch up yesterday after I landed.

  “A complete disaster.” I prop my chin in my hand, my elbow resting on the kitchen counter. I heave a long, hard sigh.

  She checks her phone to make sure the battery’s full, pulls it off the charger and tucks it into her purse. “How come? Is your new boss a werewolf with chunks of meat stuck between his teeth?”

  I laugh. “I wish.”

  “That bad?” She makes a face, then checks her watch. “I have five minutes if you need to vent.”

  I shove my fingers into my hair. “It’s just… I feel like such a fool! He doesn’t really want me.”

  “Sure he does. He made the offer for you. He even reached out to you a few times. He has to want you.” She makes a finger gun and points it at me.

  “I mean he doesn’t care who he hires. He didn’t hire me because I’m brilliant.”

  “Did his mom drop him on his head when he was born?”

  “No. He apparently hires anyone who’s ever worked at GrantEm. Specifically, anybody who’s ever worked for Emmett.”

  Sasha purses her lips. “That isn’t a terrible hiring criterion. GrantEm has great people.”

  “Yeah, because GrantEm retains all the good ones. But what about the others, the ones that can’t cut it? Sasha, Marion hired Webber.”

  “Okay, well… Yeah, that’s indiscriminate.”

  “Right? So everyone at the Blaire Group figures I’m like Webber. Maybe worse.” My pride is still trying to recover.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah.” The basic problem is that I’m in L.A. and the Blaire Group is in Virginia. What good reputation I have among my peers at GrantEm hasn’t percolated across the entire country. I’m not a big fish like Emmett or the other partners.

  “I’m so sorry. What are your options, then? Can you get another job?”

  “I don’t know. I have, like, seven days until my last official day at GrantEm.” Emmett might’ve unofficially fired me, but I’m still getting paid and my medical is still valid. “I put out some feelers, but I don’t want to go without medical if I can help it.”

  “That makes sense.” She looks at my belly briefly. “You know what? Let me also ping some people and see what’s out there.”

  “Thanks, girl.” I appreciate her effort, although I’m not sure if it’s going to be fruitful. It won’t be easy to get another job in seven days.

  “Hey, what are friends for? I’m always on Team Amy.”

  She hugs me hard, then takes off so she won’t be late for work.

  I watch the door close. It feels so weird to be home alone on a Friday. I even got up early because my brain refused to sleep past five a.m. on a weekday.

  My phone buzzes with a notification. I look at the screen.

  –Dad: Hey, sweetie! Happy Friday!

  He attached a selfie—hale and hearty with a huge smile and crinkling eyes. It makes me smile in return. He is truly the center of my universe, my rock.

  I inhale deeply. It’s time to come clean about the baby and everything, but telling him through texts seems a little cold. It’s the kind of conversation that requires a call. I’ll try to be calm and steady, and come across like I’m in control. Then he won’t worry.

  –Me: Is it okay if we talk?

  –Dad: Of course!

  Good old Dad. He picks up instantly when I call.

  “Hey, sweetie pie!” he says.

  “Dad…” I bite my lip, shocked at how shaky I sound. I thought I could talk about this without getting emotional.

  “What’s wrong?” He’s serious now, with an overt I’m-gonna-kick-the-ass-of-whoever-made-you-cry tone.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, then cover my eyes. I didn’t mean to announce it like this. He’s going to be so disappointed.

  “Uh… Did you… The guy didn’t force you or anything, did he? I just want to be sure, since…you’re so upset.”

  “No!” That’s where his mind went? “We both wanted to do it.” That part was for sure, although I don’t know about the rest.

  “Okay. Well, uh, good. I guess.” There’s a pause. “And the baby…?”

  “I want to keep it.”

  “Okay.” His tone says, I respect your decision.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is brittle and small.

  “For what, sweetie?”

  “I feel like I’ve disappointed you.”

  “Amy, no. Never. You’ve never disappointed me. I’ve always been proud of you.”

  I sniffle.

  “Honey, I’m already in love with your baby. And I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what.”

  “Thank you, Dad,” I manage through the hot lump in my throat. This is how my father always is. And I want my baby to have it, too.

  “So. Is your new job going to be less demanding, Give you some time to take care of the baby? Or do you want me there?”

  His immediate offer to help out chokes me up, and I fan my hot face. I don’t have to be a fortune-teller to know the Blaire Group isn’t going to be flexible about my situation. Most firms aren’t, contrary to what their fancy HR-generated brochures claim. But somehow I can’t tell him that, not because I want to lie about it, but because I don’t see a future for myself at the Blaire Group yet.

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “The new place didn’t tell you?”

  “They kind of did, but…it’s in Virginia. And it’s private equity. The people there work a lot. And honestly, I don’t know if I belong there.” As I say that, it dawns on me that I had that sense of belonging at GrantEm. Sure, I was upset over what Emmett said when he hired me, but the people at the firm respected me. They knew I was the best associate—

  “Sure you do!” Dad says. “Who told you that you don’t belong? You went to Harvard! Got an MBA at Wharton! You’re the smartest person I know!”

  I smile through the hot unshed tears. “Thanks, Dad. But it’s complicated.”

  Then I proceed to unload everything Heather told me.

  “I just feel so torn,” I add. “Going there is the smart, safe thing to do.”

  “But you don’t want to go,” he says, cutting through all my messy emotions.

  “I don’t know if I want to be surrounded by people who won’t like me just because of where I worked before or who my new boss is.”

  “Then don’t go.”

  “But I can’t be without a job. Especially now.”

  “Amy, sometimes in life you have to take risks.”

  “Risks? I have a baby on the way.”

  “Your child won’t want to see you get beat down by jerks who already made up their mind about you.” He sighs. “Honey, I know you. You’re careful—you always make sure what you’re about to do isn’t going to have a negative impact on your life, even if it doesn’t turn out so well. I’ve never seen anybody plan out an exit strategy as well as you do, and that’s something coming from a Marine.

  “I’m going to tell you something, okay? I’ve always wanted to tell you, but never got to because you seem to have your life so well in order. But this seems to be the time.

  “You can’t have the perfect exit strategy for everything. There’s no contingency plan that can eliminate all the risks. You can only do your best. And it sounds like if you go to this place in Virginia, you won’t be doing your best. You’ll be settling. You’ll be going into a situation where people won’t give you a fair chance and will treat you badly. You know you deserve better, and this would be a major step backward in that career you worked so hard for. That’s why you told me you couldn’t be without a job, without any of the excitement you had when you had an offer from your current place or that bank before you started your MBA.” He pauses for a moment. “You can be without a job for a few weeks until you find something that puts fire in your blood. I already told you I’m in your corner, sweetie. If money’s what’s holding you back, I can help out.”

  “Dad! I can’t take your money!”

  “Of course you can. I’m your father. Taking care of you, no matter how old or how independent you think you are, is what I’m supposed to do—what I love to do. I love you, Amy, and don’t forget it. You’re not alone in this.”