Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)(78)



“Point taken. Go on.”

I gave her the short version of the Oakley situation.

Sierra said, “She’s lucky to have you, Boone. You didn’t have anyone.”

“I haven’t heard from her yet this morning so I’ll call her after you go to work.”

“Yay, I can hardly f*cking wait for this day to start after the spectacular shit show I dealt with yesterday.”

Guilt punched me in the gut. I was a self-centered prick last night. “What happened?”

“Finger-pointing at DPM. Greg neglected to update the paperwork for a lease renewal with a fairly big client and we lost the account. He tried to blame it on his assistant, Melissa, claiming he finished the project and she misfiled it. He fired her. Melissa had expected that, so she’d come to me earlier in the day with documentation of all the things he’s f*cked up over the last year. So I think I finally have enough evidence of his misconduct to take to the big boss.” She looked at me over the rim of her coffee cup. “Unfortunately, the big boss in this case is not my dad. After I assured Melissa I’d find her another position at DPM, she said it’d be worse for her if she stayed. Which sucks ass because she was a great employee.”

“Will any of this backfire on you?”

She shrugged. “We’ll see. Then, to make my day even better, I dealt with mama drama when I received an email from my mother.”

I frowned at her. “An email?”

“Yes. Evidently that’s how today’s busy socialite corresponds with her daughter. And because I was curious about what warranted a f*cking email, I opened it and then I wished I wouldn’t have.”

“Why? Did she ask you to fill in as a bridesmaid?”

“That’s not even funny to joke about.” She rinsed her cup and put it in the dishwasher. “Apparently someone is hosting a bridal luncheon for her. Since I hadn’t RSVP’d she wondered if I planned to attend. She was so condescending about being ‘understanding’ if I couldn’t go on such short notice.”

“When is the luncheon?”

“Saturday.”

“This Saturday?”

“Yep. She claimed my invitation must’ve gotten lost in cyberspace. But I know that she didn’t even bother to invite me in the first place.”

I couldn’t tell if Sierra was hurt by this or just pissed off. I turned her around and tugged her against me. “That’s shitty. I’m sorry. I’m betting you RSVP’d with a big ‘f*ck you’ in all caps.”

“Hell no. That’s what Ellen wants. So you can bet your ass I will be at that luncheon.” She pecked me on the mouth. “I have to go. Will I see you tonight?”

“I work midnight to noon the next two nights.”

“I’ll be late, but not that late.”

“See you later, McKay.” I clamped my hands on her face and gave her a morning mouth f*ck goodbye…just because I could.





Late Saturday morning I’d arrived on time for the bridal luncheon at the new “club” my mother had joined upon her engagement to Barnacle Bill.

After I assured her I’d be in attendance for what she called her big, special day, she’d sent me a link to her bridal gift registry—which I ignored. Then she’d tacked on a “reminder” of the appropriate attire for a fall-themed soiree at a prestigious country club.

Rebellious Sierra dreamed of showing up high as a kite, wearing a black leather halter and disco-era gold lamé pants. But practical Sierra with the business degree chose the high road and a nondescript dress that allowed me to fade into the background. I hadn’t bothered with jewelry. My mother’s friends’ accessory of choice was a glass of white wine or a pumpkin spice martini, so I secretly lamented that I’d left my flask of Crown at home.

I wandered around, not making polite chitchat as much as listening to conversations.

Which I soon discovered were boring as hell.

Charity this, charity that. Caterers, florists, scheduled luncheons.

Yawn.

Bored women with nothing better to do than decide how to spend hubby’s money on pet causes while indulging in a three-martini lunch with their other bored society friends.

Cynical?

Yep.

I vaguely remembered my Grandma Daniels encouraging my mother to become involved with service organizations. Early in my parents’ marriage my mother had embraced the idea of being the wife of Gavin Daniels, heir to a real estate company. She’d spent time at my grandparents’ country club. She’d tried to look the part of the corporate wife. Problem was, she hadn’t acted like a corporate wife. Her infidelities embarrassed my father—personally and professionally—and he’d cut his losses with her early on.

Luckily my relationship with him hadn’t been a casualty of the demise of their marriage. At least I’d grown up with one stable parent who proved that unconditional love exists. I was very proud of the fact that I am my father’s daughter.

That’s why I was wrestling with my decision on whether to leave DPM.

Phyllis wasn’t pressuring me. I’d had a text from Rory asking if I’d made a decision. I still hadn’t mentioned anything to Boone about the offer to run PCE. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. I’d just never been in a relationship where I could discuss issues in my professional life. I saw myself as captain of my own ship. Asking for advice almost seemed like asking permission and that was something I wouldn’t do.

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