Six Years Later, He's My Boss

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Niklaus Thorne was not ready for today.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, adjusting his tie for the third time while his phone buzzed insistently on the marble countertop, alerting him that he needed to face today, no matter how hard he dreaded it, and wished that he could hide himself in his bed and avoided everyone.

The caller ID showed a photo of his mother looking imperious in pearls, it was a picture she'd set herself the last time she'd commandeered his phone, and he knew better than to change it.

He also knew better than to let her call go unanswered.

"Good morning, Mother," he said, putting the phone on speaker as he continued wrestling with his tie.

"Niklaus, darling. I'm calling to remind you about the interview today."

"I'm aware of my own schedule."

"Are you?" Anastasia's voice carried that particular note of maternal skepticism that had survived his entire thirty-two years, the tone that told Klaus a lot of things about his mother's disbelief whenever he tells her that he was handling his life perfectly fine and did not need help.

"Because I know how you can be when something makes you uncomfortable. And I saw how you looked at that young woman in the car."

Klaus abandoned the tie with a sigh, seeing that it was futile.

"Mother, I'm conducting a standard job interview. Nothing more."

"Then why did you agree to interview her personally instead of leaving it to HR like you usually do?"

It was a fair question. Klaus had spent the past two days asking himself the same thing, because he did not know what had driven him to do that out of the ordinary. He could have passed Ambelyn's information to his hiring manager and forgotten about the entire situation. If she passed, then she was good enough to pass the hiring manager test. Instead, he'd scheduled her interview himself and spent far too much time thinking about what he would say when he saw her again.

"I'm giving her a fair trial," he said finally. "That's all."

"Hmm." The sound carried volumes of maternal doubt, but it also said that she wasn't going to ask any further question on it, until she had very sustainable proof.

"Well, I had the most interesting dream last night. I saw a little boy calling me grandma. Dark hair, green eyes—absolutely precious. It must be a sign."

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose as he bit back the words that could have made a sailor blush and said instead.

"A sign of dementia, perhaps. You should get that checked."

"Don't be rude. I'm simply saying that perhaps this young woman is meant to be in your life for a reason."

"If you're going to have prophetic dreams, could you at least make them useful? Stock prices that will increase, winning lottery numbers—that sort of thing?"

"You know what would make me truly happy?" Anastasia's voice took on that dangerous sweetness that meant she was about to deploy emotional manipulation on him, using her best tactics on this, forcing him to see reason.

"A grandchild. I'm not getting any younger, Klaus. Your father—God rest his soul—he would have wanted to see the family line continue."

"Don't bring Dad into your guilt trips," Klaus warned. "It's not fair and it doesn't work."

"I'm simply saying—"

"And I'm simply saying that if you keep pushing, I'll schedule a vasectomy. Today. I'll send you the appointment confirmation."

There was a long pause, where there was nothing but heavy breathing on both ends.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Another pause, then a dramatic sigh. "Fine. But you're being unreasonable."

"I'm being practical. I have a company to run and no interest in rushing into parenthood to satisfy your dream prophecies."

"One day you'll understand," Anastasia said primly, acting saucy now that he plans had been kicked to the curb.

"One day you'll meet someone who changes everything, and you'll remember this conversation."

Klaus thought of Ambelyn in the backseat of the car, soaked from rain and looking defiant still, despite obvious exhaustion.

He thought of Ambelyn six years ago, pinned against library shelves with her lips swollen from his kisses and her eyes dark with desire. He thought of how she'd looked at him—like he was simultaneously everything she wanted and everything she was terrified of wanting.

"I have to go," he said abruptly. "The interview is in an hour."

"Give her a chance, Klaus. A real one."

"Goodbye, Mother."

He ended the call before she could continue, then stared at his reflection in the mirror. His tie was still crooked. He straightened it mechanically, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest.

This was just a job interview. Nothing more. He would assess Ambelyn's qualifications professionally, make a decision based on merit, and move forward. The fact that she'd once made him forget his own name in study room corners was irrelevant. The fact that he'd thought about her more in the past two days than he had in the previous six years was just an inconvenient distraction.

He could handle this. He was Niklaus Thorne, CEO of a billion-dollar company. He'd navigated hostile takeovers, board rebellions, and market crashes. He could certainly handle one job interview with a woman from his past.

By the time he arrived at Thorne Industries, he'd almost convinced himself.

---

Ambelyn had been awake since five AM, too anxious to sleep.

She'd spent the early morning hours, trying to figure out what to wear to her interview.

Now, standing outside the gleaming tower that housed Thorne Industries, Ambelyn felt her confidence beginning to crack as she felt intimated, just staring at the huge masterpiece.

She'd dressed carefully in a navy suit that Wednesday had insisted on buying her—"Consider it an investment in your future," her friend had said back then, waving away protests that Amberlyn was eager to dish out.

Her hair was pulled back in a professional bun, and she carried a leather portfolio with copies of her resume and references. She looked the part of a competent executive assistant.

She just had to convince herself she could play it.

The lobby was all glass and chrome, aggressively modern in a way that was clearly meant to intimidate. Ambelyn forced herself to walk confidently toward the elevator bank, her heels clicking on the polished floor, as she made her way towards the elevators.

The elevator doors were just opening when a familiar voice stopped her cold.

"Well, well. What are you doing here?"

Ambelyn turned slowly to find Thomas standing behind her, Veronica at his side. They were both dressed for business, and Thomas's expression was a mixture of surprise and contempt.

"I have an appointment," Ambelyn said evenly, stepping toward the elevator.

Thomas moved to block her path. "An appointment? Here? Let me guess—you're applying to be a janitor? It's probably the only job you're qualified for."

Veronica laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "Oh Thomas, be nice. Cleaning is honest work. Though I'm surprised they'd hire someone with such a... questionable background."

Ambelyn felt heat rise in her cheeks but forced herself to remain calm.nShe was done losing her cool over them,no matter what they tried to do to her.

She looked Thomas directly in the eye, as she responded to his mockery.

"If I were applying to be a cleaner, there would be no shame in that. Cleaners are the ones who make sure companies like this function smoothly. They're often more essential than the executives who look down on them."

"Is that so?" Thomas's smile was nasty and cruel, making my nose wrinkle in disgust.

"And here I thought you'd at least try for something with a desk. But I suppose beggars can't be choosers."