Six Years Later, He's My Boss

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The tension inside the luxury sedan was thick enough to cut with a knife, as the only sounds that could be heard was the car engine running.

Ambelyn sat rigidly in her corner of the backseat, hyperaware of Niklaus's presence less than two feet away, which was saying something for her composure.

He hadn't looked at her since that initial moment of recognition, his attention seemingly focused on the tablet in his hands. But she could feel the weight of his invisible eyes, on her, being scrutinized secretly by him, the way his body had gone tense the moment she entered the car.

"So, Ambelyn," Anastasia Thorne said from the front seat, her tone sounding warm as she looked very interested in talking with Amberlyn,

"which college did you attend? You look familiar somehow."

The question was innocent enough, but Ambelyn felt her heart rate spike at the question. Familiar was the last thing, she wanted associated with her, familiar was not what she wanted, especially when she was trying to erase her past being tHomas's trophy wife.

"Westmore University. I graduated six years ago."

"Westmore!" Anastasia turned in her seat, her face lighting up with delight, as she replied. "Klaus went to Westmore! And he graduated six years ago as well. What a coincidence!"

It wasn't a coincidence. It was the cruelest twist of fate imaginable. And she was so innocent and void of the fact that she knew her son biblically.

"Did you two know each other?" Anastasia pressed, looking between them with growing interest, her eyes shifting between them as she seemed eager to push them together, looking for similarities between them.

The silence stretched uncomfortably. Ambelyn couldn't bring herself to meet Niklaus's eyes.

What could she possibly say? Yes, we knew each other. He used to pin me against library shelves and make me forget my own name. He took my virginity days before my wedding and ruined my life without even knowing it.

"We saw each other around campus," Niklaus said finally, his voice carefully neutral, breaking the silence when he realized that I was tongue tied.

"But we weren't close. We worked on some projects together. Study groups, that sort of thing."

The lie was smooth, practiced. But Ambelyn noticed the way his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the tablet's edge.

"Study groups!" Anastasia seemed delighted by this revelation.

"Of course! I remember now—I saw you in some photos from Klaus's university days. You had longer hair then, didn't you? And glasses?"

"Yes," Ambelyn managed. "I wore contacts after graduation."

"You two seemed quite serious in those photos," Anastasia continued, oblivious to the rising tension. "I remember thinking you might be rivals. Or perhaps enemies? There was something... intense about the way you were looking at each other."

Neither of them responded. In the rearview mirror, Ambelyn caught a glimpse of the driver's carefully blank expression. Clearly, the man had learned not to react to his employer's family drama.

"So tell me, dear," Anastasia said, changing topics with merciful swiftness, "what were you doing out walking in this dreadful weather? Surely you didn't come all this way on foot?"

Ambelyn's phone buzzed in her lap. She glanced down to see Thomas's name lighting up the screen. Without thinking, she declined the call.

"I was... visiting someone nearby," she said carefully. "And I've recently found myself in need of new employment. I was actually heading home to update my resume."

The phone buzzed again. Thomas. She declined it again, then put it on silent mode.

Anastasia was watching her with shrewd eyes that missed nothing. "What kind of work do you do?"

"Executive assistant, primarily. But I also have experience with project management, data analysis, and system optimization. I'm well-versed in AI integration and I have a background in coding—mostly Python and JavaScript."

"She's listing her qualifications like she's in a job interview," Niklaus said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. There was something almost amused in his tone.

"Can you blame her?" Anastasia retorted. "Klaus, darling, didn't you just fire your personal assistant?"

"Yes." The single word carried a weight of resignation. "She was more interested in flirting than filing."

"There you go!" Anastasia clapped her hands together. "Ambelyn, you should apply for the position. Klaus is always complaining about how difficult it is to find competent help."

The suggestion hit Ambelyn like a bucket of ice water. Work for Niklaus? See him every day? Exist in his orbit after six years of careful distance?

"Mother, I can't just hire someone out of familiarity without knowing their complete skill set," Niklaus said, but his tone lacked conviction.

"She just listed her skills," Anastasia pointed out. "And if she worked with you on university projects, you already know her capabilities. Unless you have some objection you're not sharing?"

The challenge in her voice was clear. Ambelyn held her breath, waiting to see how Niklaus would respond.

"Fine," he said after a long pause. He seemed determined to take their secret to the grave and was willing to play along with whatever his mum brought out.

"Come to Thorne Industries in two days. Ten AM. Ask for me at reception. We'll do a formal interview, and if your qualifications match what we're looking for, we can discuss employment terms. That is the least I can do for you, considering I am not really looking for a replacement."

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a business card, holding it out without looking directly at her. Ambelyn took it carefully, making sure their fingers didn't touch.

The card was simple but elegant: *Niklaus Thorne, CEO, Thorne Industries.*

"Thank you," she said quietly, knowing that he was only giving her this opportunity because his mum had all but bullied him into it.

"I'll be there. I promise I won't waste your time."

"See that you don't."

The car slowed as they approached the main bus checkpoint. The rain had stopped, leaving the streets wet and glistening under the streetlights. A few late-night buses idled at the curb, their windows fogged with humidity.

"You can drop me here," Ambelyn said quickly. "This is perfect."

"Are you sure?" Anastasia looked concerned. "We could take you all the way home—"

"No, really, this is fine." Ambelyn was already reaching for the door handle. "You've been more than kind already. Thank you so much for the ride. And for—for everything."

The car pulled to a stop. As Ambelyn opened the door, she felt compelled to look back one more time.

Her eyes met Niklaus's across the backseat, and for a moment, the years fell away. She saw recognition there, and something else—something complicated and unresolved that made her chest tighten with emotions she couldn't name.

"Two days," he said. "Don't be late."

"I won't be."