The Bully (Calamity Montana #4)(22)

“Okay.” Except I didn’t feel lucky. That car was less than a year old and there was a very real chance I’d bought a lemon. At least it was under warranty. “Will you call me when it’s ready?”

“Yep. We’ve got some loaners if you need a car.”

“No, that’s all right.” I had nowhere to go this weekend that wasn’t within walking distance to my house. Hopefully Larke could give me a lift to the office on Monday morning. Worst case, I’d call a cab. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Talk to you soon.”

I ended the call and slumped into my chair. As Cal had suspected, my transmission was busted. But at least my lemon had gotten me to Montana. Being stranded on a highway between Denver and Calamity would have been much worse than a few days without a vehicle and a couple of shuttle rides from Cal.

It was almost five, so I closed my laptop and loaded it into my bag. I’d spent most of my day on disappointing phone calls, my mechanic’s the cherry on top. Along with my broken-down car, I was now minus my assistant, Suzie, and effectively doing two jobs, hers and my own, until I could hire her replacement.

But I’d manage. I’d work longer hours so that Pierce could enjoy his time at home with Kerrigan and the kids.

For years I’d worked as Pierce’s assistant. It had started as a temporary gig, something to fill the gap while I’d hunted for my dream job. But about a year after I’d started at Grays Peak, I’d realized that the reason I hadn’t applied anywhere else or sent my résumé to corporate recruiters was because I had my dream job.

Stellar boss. Flexible schedule. Daily challenges. Excellent pay. Responsibility and respect. The only thing I’d lacked was a prestigious title, and my ego could have lived without it. Until one day, Pierce had walked into my office with a box of letterpress business cards.

Vice President did look lovely beneath my name.

There were days when I still threatened to quit. Every time Pierce irritated me, I’d threaten to walk. It kept him on his toes. But we both knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

After graduating from UNC with my bachelor’s degree, I’d stayed in Charlotte. The city had been familiar and comfortable. The tech company where I’d done an internship my senior year had offered me a full-time position as a business analyst.

The work had been fine, but my boss had turned out to be a slimy bastard. He’d taken credit for my ideas and pitched them as his own. He’d downplayed my accomplishments and talked badly about me behind closed doors. I’d endured it for a while, but after three years, when I’d wanted to quit every day, finally . . . I’d quit.

Mom and Dad had been ecstatic when I’d told them I was moving home, even though I’d been unemployed. The week I’d returned to Denver, ready to apply anywhere and everywhere, I’d bumped into Pierce at a restaurant. We’d lost touch after high school, so we’d chatted for a while and caught up over drinks.

He’d been desperate for a decent assistant.

I’d been eager for a salary.

My official title was vice president to the CEO, which basically gave me free rein to make decisions in his stead. I knew when to check with him. I knew when I had the authority to approve proposals and make hiring decisions. He’d granted me a lot of leeway to help run the company.

Our CFO was waiting for me to review next year’s fiscal projections, but instead of doing my job, today I’d spent covering for Suzie.

She’d only been working as my assistant for a couple of months. I’d hired her to do Pierce’s actual assistant duties, like schedule travel and manage his calendar. As a bonus, she could be in Denver while I was in Calamity. She was supposed to be my eyes and ears at headquarters.

Suzie was supposed to be helping out with the relocation company, getting details coordinated for the employees moving to Montana. Instead, she’d called me before I’d even left the house this morning and quit.

Then my car had died.

Then Cal had shown up.

Normally, a Cal encounter would be the worst part of my day. But today, it had actually been . . . the best. Strange.

Well, he’d be here in minutes. And knowing Cal, he’d say something dickish on the drive home, like call me Pierce’s secretary, and the world would be back to normal.

Secretary. God, that one irked me. I’d worked my entire life to prove myself. I doubted Cal knew just how deep it cut to have my accomplishments downplayed.

In high school, I had this obsession to beat the rich kids. To prove that I might not have their money, but I had the brains. When I beat Pierce for valedictorian, I was so proud. So smug. Yet as I stood at the podium, getting ready to deliver my speech, all of my arrogance evaporated. Because I was staring at a crowd of people who would never accept me.

Ace every test. Get a full ride to a prestigious university. Be smart. Be kind.

None of it mattered.

To them, I would always be less.

So I gave my speech. I tossed my cap in the air. I let Mom and Dad take a hundred pictures and throw a party in our backyard. And later that night, when I was alone in my room, I cried for an hour.

It had taken me a long time to realize that I wasn’t less. That I was comfortable in my skin. That I was just me. That I liked me.

But there was one person who had the inherent ability to bring my adolescent doubts out of the shadows.