The Boss Upstairs - Roya Carmen Page 0,15
with the big ones now, but he’s kind of obsessed too.”
“You might have a future engineer on your hands,” he jokes.
“Possibly.”
“What did… what did his father do?” he asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“He was a pediatric surgeon at Saint Elizabeth.” Yes, not only did I take him away from Ethan and I, I also took him from all the sick children he could have saved. I should have been the one who died.
“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have pried.”
I stare down at my half eaten plate and toy with my leftover pad thai. “It’s okay. It’s just hard talking about him.”
“I can imagine,” he says. “I’ve lost loved ones too.”
I ponder his words and wonder who he has lost.
I venture another bite, but my food has chilled and I don’t really taste it anymore.
Following a long awkward silence, he finally speaks. “What about your friends,” he says. “I see you with them all the time. They seem like a fun bunch.”
My spirits lift at the thought of my three best friends. “They are. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
“And they all live here, at Orchard Heights?”
“Yes… this is where we all met. One of those meet-and-greet parties they used to have. They were organized by Olivia, this woman who used to live here.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“We’re all different, but we all get along really well,” I go on. “Mischa is the most like me. She has two teenage boys, and she’s an accountant. She’s kind of uptight, likes everything in order all the time, but she’s great. She has OCD, I think.”
“Wow, Mischa and I would get along famously,” he jokes.
I laugh. “Yeah, I noticed that you’re super organized too. Mischa would approve.”
He reaches for his glass of water. “What about the other two? What are they like?”
“Claudia is a free-spirit. She has a young son, and she’s separated. She’s artsy like me. She’s a stage manager at The Den Theatre.”
“Interesting.”
“And Abigail is a social worker, the kindest woman you’ll ever meet.”
He smiles. “You’re lucky to have them.”
“What about you? You have a lot of friends?”
He stares down at his plate. “No… I’m kind of a lone wolf. I catch up with my business partner once in a while, and I hang with the guys I play squash with sometimes. And then I have my kids.”
I nod, wondering why he doesn’t mention a woman. Why would a man like him be single? I desperately want to ask if he has someone special in his life, but I don’t dare.
Following the Thai food, he pulls out a blueberry pie, and I’m in heaven. I entertain him with anecdotes of Ethan’s shenanigans, and he reminisces about his own kids. He talks about his ex-wife. Apparently, she’s a criminal attorney. Although, he’s semi-retired and focusing on his philanthropy, she’s still very much an attorney, a workaholic he says.
“I know what that’s like,” I tell him. “Donovan worked crazy hours. I was always alone, binge watching movies.”
He shakes his head. “Now, that’s not right.”
I smile. “I know!”
“So you haven’t been out much, Grasshopper?”
I laugh. “Not much.”
I kind of like it when he calls me Grasshopper, but not as much as when he calls me Good Girl.
Damn.
His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Sorry, I need to take this. It’s Rosetta.”
I scrape the remains off my plate. The pie was delicious, but I’m stuffed now.
He laughs. “Good to hear,” he says. “Well, you take care of yourself. Take advantage of this. George can wait on you hand and foot.”
He ends his call and smiles.
“How is she doing?” I ask, eager to know.
“She’s great,” he tells me. “But I think she may be on drugs.”
I laugh. “Well, good for her.”
He glances at his phone, wide-eyed. “Wow, it’s already three o’clock.”
No way. We’ve been chatting for two hours? “Sorry,” I say. “I’ve monopolized your attention. I should be working.”
He shoots me a playful grin. “No need to be sorry. I was a willing participant. Perhaps I’m the one who should apologize.”
I smile playfully. “Definitely not.”
God, am I flirting? Are we flirting? Am I flirting with my boss?
I stand nervously, and start to clear the table. “Well, thanks so much for lunch. It was great. I can tidy all this up if you wish.”
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you do that.” He helps me tidy. “Thanks for the company, by the way. I appreciate it.”
I smile, but say nothing. He keeps robbing me of speech.
We both clean up the kitchen, working in unison, not a