The Boss (The Boss 1)

“I will.” It was a great opportunity, though I had never really imagined I would end up working in the beauty department. I’d been strictly focused on clothing. Still, it was better than job hunting, and he was right, it would be too weird to stay on as his assistant.

Neil and I made small talk as we waited for our food. With our past out in the open between us, I had expected lunch to be interminable. After all, I couldn’t run out screaming if I wanted that job, but with our one-night-only affair rekindled for five minutes to die a painfully embarrassing death, it was almost asking too much of myself to sit there and eat with him.

To my surprise, I found myself relaxing, enjoying myself even, as he told me about his interest in the magazine and some small changes he expected in the future. He asked me about NYU, and why I had focused on fashion, and it seemed like the hour we spent eating and chatting passed slightly too fast.

Neil picked up the check, “As your boss,” he clarified after handing his black credit card over to the waitress. “Not as a former lover.”

I laughed. “You know, if you’re going to be my boss, you’re going to have to stop bringing that up.”

“I’ve thought of that, believe me.” He smiled, and took a last sip of coffee. “Henceforth, we won’t mention it again.”

The car was waiting for us when we left the restaurant. As we pulled away, I asked, “So, this beauty editor job. If I did decide to take it, when would it start?”

He considered a moment. “I might need you to train your replacement, but I don’t see why you couldn’t start on the February issue.”

I mulled that over. Porteras worked on a ten week schedule. The February issue would hit the stands the first Monday in January, which meant the content collection process would begin in a week.

“Take as much time as you need to decide,” he said, as if he’d read my thoughts. “That’s only an estimate.”

We rode in silence for a few blocks. Then, apologetically, he said, “I’m sorry; I promise this is the last time I’ll bring it up. But I have to know... did you ever try to contact me during those six years? I’ll admit; I didn’t try to find you. I didn’t know how you would react. Every time I thought I might look you up, I realized I didn’t have anywhere to start. I’m not flattering myself by saying it, but I’m an easy man to find. Especially in your business, you’re bound to have known of me.”

This was one of the bits I still couldn’t get my head around. As confusing as the rest of the entire situation was, I couldn’t come up with a single reason that I had never made the connection between Leif at the airport and Neil Elwood, publishing magnate.

Cautiously, I thought out loud, “I suppose when you were fresh in my memory, I wasn’t paying attention to who was who in the industry. I was just trying to get through college alive. And then when I was actually working...”

I had seen his picture countless times, and clips of interviews. But I hadn’t worked for an Elwood & Stern company, so I hadn’t troubled myself too much with what they’d been up to. I’d been so focused on learning how Porteras worked and trying to carve out a place for myself there that I hadn’t had the time or inclination to look past our walls.

“I noticed that you looked remarkably like Leif, but there’s something different about you in person than from pictures.” Without thinking, I mused, “Maybe you just look different when you’re looking at me.”

Do you know what Maybachs really need? Ejector seats. Even if the only option for escape is to be flung into traffic.

We pulled up beside the building, and my hand immediately went to the door handle. Neil waved me ahead. “I have another stop I need to make, I won’t be coming up.”

I can’t say I wasn’t grateful when I shut the door and went on without him. The thought that he might be watching me slowed my steps, and I forced myself not to look back, even when I’d entered the lobby. I rode the elevator in a daze. So, one of the big mysteries of my life had been more or less wrapped up. I’d found my sexy stranger again, and things weren’t going to work out the way I’d sometimes fantasized they might. I was disappointed, but in a detached sort of way, like when a favorite television show’s plot takes a turn I don’t like. The world wasn’t going to crumble over this incident. It didn’t even feel particularly cry-worthy.

I was back at my desk for about two minutes when Rudy came through the door, frowning.