The Boss Crush

Love is endless. Love doesn’t have walls or boundaries.

Love is a feeling that can hurt as much as it can make your heart soar.

Love is knowing that no matter what, there’s life where it never existed before.

This. . . This is love.

Letting the bathroom door swing shut, I take my phone from my purse, eager to call Kira and tell her everything that’s going on. I have a feeling she’s going to be excited about this baby.

Scrolling through my contacts, I find her name. My thumb hovers over the screen, about to click the call button, when something catches my attention. Lifting my head, I tilt my ear toward the row of stalls.

The sound is soft. Is that sniffles?

Bending slightly, I attempt to look and see if someone is in one of the stalls. When suddenly the door on the end gets yanked opened, and a woman steps out.

She stops short, her eyes meeting mine, wide and stunned.

“Dalia, I didn’t know you were in here.” Sandy clears her throat and adjusts her blouse. Grabbing a paper towel, she wipes her nose. “All done with my brother, I see.” Her tone is harsh as she leans into the mirror, running the paper towel under her eyes.

“Are you all right?” I ask, crossing my arms protectively. Even right now, the woman intimidates me.

Her eyes dart to mine through the mirror, and she frowns. She looks like she wants to say something, but out of nowhere, she starts sobbing. Sandy is crying hard, her hands resting on the sink as she drops her head.

“What’s wrong?” Rushing to her side, I rub her back, letting her know she can talk to me.

We might not have seen eye to eye back in school, we might have been in different circles, with different friends, but that’s not who we are anymore.

I feel terrible right now for her and whatever it is she’s going through. I’ve always thought of her as woman with no soul, so to see her this upset, I can’t help but think it’s serious.

Sandy’s breathing is ragged and labored as she tries to inhale. “It’s just. . . It’s hard. . .” Grunting, she shakes her head and drops onto her forearms, holding her head over the sink. “It’s my brother. It’s like he doesn’t care anymore about our company.”

More tears come flowing out hard and fast. I just stay quiet, letting her talk.

“He’s been different. It’s not like him to be so distant. I’m worried, Dalia,” she says, finally lifting her head to look at me through the mirror again. “I’m worried he wants out.”

“Out?” I ask, crinkling my brows in confusion. “Out of what?”

“Out of this,” she says, standing up straight and looking around the bathroom like it holds the answer I’m looking for.

I don’t understand, and she sees it. Rolling her eyes, she grabs another paper towel and wipes her nose. “The company. I think he wants to get out of here. If he leaves, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t do this without him, this place is us, it won’t work if he’s not here.”

Shaking my head, my lips push out in disagreement. “No, I don’t think that’s true. Lyle won’t leave this place.”

“What else could it be then? Why else would he seem so uninterested in this place? It doesn’t make sense.”

She sounds so frazzled, so emotional and lost, I’m compelled to tell her everything. I don’t want her to worry that her brother is going to abandon her, because that’s not the truth.

The truth is I’m the reason he’s been so off. Me.

And now with the baby, I can only imagine it’s going to get worse. The longer this baby is kept a secret, the harder it’s going to be to tell her. Why wait? Why drag it out any longer than it needs to be?

This is the time to tell her. It’s the perfect moment.

I have to tell her. She should know the truth.

“Sandy,” I say, the tone in my voice enough to hold her attention. “It’s not this company that’s distracting him. . .” I pause, letting the words I’m about to use sit on the tip of my tongue.

Her brows dip, her lids squint, and her head tilts a hair into her shoulder. “Then what is it?”

“It’s me. I’m the reason he’s been distant.”

“You?”

I nod, twisting to lean back against the sink. “Yeah, and there’s more.”

“More?” crossing her arms, she kicks out a foot.

Nodding, I pull on my lip as I say, “I just found out I’m pregnant.”

Sandy’s jaw jets to the side, her lids lowering. “Pregnant. . . By who?”

“By your brother.” Cringing, I wait for her to scream or yell or throw something across the room. I cover my stomach, instinctively trying to protect the baby inside.

Her mouth hangs open, and she stares at me. “Does he know?” Her gaze shifts to my belly briefly, noticing the motion, and then back up.