The Boss (Managing the Bosses 1)

“Get real, Jamie,” he said. “I was rude to them because I already knew you didn’t like them. It wasn’t because I didn’t care enough or whatever you’re accusing me of. I didn’t think you would want me to get along with them. Why else would you tell me all of that shit about them to begin with?”

“Bull,” she snapped. “That isn’t what happened and you know it.”

The elevator opened and Jamie stormed out before Stephen could reply. She raced outside and called a cab as quickly as possible.

Once inside the taxi she called Christine. She hoped her dad was all right. She could just imagine how her mother and Christine were right now. Probably blaming Dad’s heart attack on me, she thought sarcastically.

Christine was sobbing when she answered. “Jamie, you need to get to the hospital right now. Dad’s had a heart attack.”

“I know,” she said. “Stephen just filled me in.”

“He called you?” She sounded surprised.

“No, he came to see me.”

“Really?”

Jamie shook her head. “How’s dad?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. Mom’s a mess. She keeps crying and wailing. It’s so embarrassing.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The cab got her to Scott Thompson Hospital in less than ten minutes. In that time Jamie had calmed herself and gone over the scenarios. Stephen had said her dad was going to be fine. It must have been a minor attack or maybe an angina something or other. She paid the cab and hurried inside, checking with the front desk for her dad’s room number. She raced to the room where her mother and Christine were already waiting just outside.

Her mom glared at her. “You finally got here,” she said. “It took you long enough. You just had to be selfish and get a job, didn’t you?”

“For Pete’s sake, Maggie,” her father said from the room. “I can hear you.”

Jamie ignored her mom and stepped into the room. “Hey, Dad. How are you doing?” She smiled.

Her dad looked past her as her mom followed her in. “Will you lay off of Jamie about the job? She couldn’t live in the basement forever.” He smiled weakly at Jamie. “Hey, kiddo,” he whispered. “I’m fine. Really. Just a little shaken up. They won’t let me have my laptop or cell phone, though.”

Jamie laughed at the disgruntled look on his face. She sat down beside him and tapped her heart. “Hey, if they put a pacemaker in there, you don’t want the electronics messing up with the ticker.”

He smiled and closed his eyes. “Good point.”

“The last thing you need to be doing is working right now.” She squeezed his hand. “That’s probably what caused the heart attack in the first place. You need anything? Water? Another pillow?”

“I’m good,” he whispered, smiling at her. “Never better.”

“Jamie, did you order the ring bearer pillows and flower girl baskets already?” Christine asked. “Some people are saying they didn’t receive their invitations yet. You told me you’d mailed everything.”

Seriously? Her sister hadn’t said one thing since Jamie walked in and the first thing she said was about her own wedding? Did she even care about dad at all? “I’ll get to it soon,” she murmured, her eyes focussed on her dad.

“Well, you had better get on it fast,” she said. “I don’t have the time to go out and get them myself.”

What’re you so busy doing? Cake testing. More like wine testing, I bet. Jamie glared at her sister as she stood on the other side of their dad’s bed, her arms crossed and her face tight. “Why don’t you get your backup maid of honor to do it?”

“Jamie!” her mother said sharply. “You’re going to start that now? Just after your father’s heart attack?” She shook her head. “Girls, in the hall. Now.”

Jamie leaned over and kissed her dad’s forehead. He seemed already asleep. “I’ll be right back, Dad.”

In the hall, Jamie met her mom and sister, both standing with their arms crossed over their chests and glares on their faces. They could be twins. Or Cinderella’s sisters.

Her mom started in on her first. “Are you really saying you won’t lose weight for your sister’s wedding? She means that little to you?”

Sure. It’s not like I mean that much to her. “No, Mom,” she said, trying to stay calm. She wanted to get back into the room to sit with her dad. “I’m not saying that at all. I don’t have the time for it. Scarlet does. So she might as well be the maid of honor because I’m clearly doing a terrible job at it.”