Breaking up with My Boss: An Enemies to Lovers, Office Romance (Love You Forever Book 4)

by Alexis Winter

  He lied about the whole thing? Why? “Why would you do that?”

  He shrugs and takes a deep breath. “I wanted you, Poppy. From the moment you first walked into my office for your interview in that pencil skirt and those red heels, I wanted you. But it was like from the moment I opened my mouth, you hated me. And then, I hated you . . . but I only hated you because you hated me, and I knew that I’d never get my chance with you. I was angry at myself because you hated me so badly. I hated myself for not being the type of guy you could see yourself with. I hated you because even though I have a good job and money and my shit together, that I still wasn’t good enough for you. So, yes, I lied. I tricked you so I could give myself what I wanted, no matter how you felt about it.”

  I’m not even sure what to say to that. Should I be angry? Should I feel sorry for him? Should I be happy that he did what he did in order to get me to where I am now? I can’t help but feel a little bit of everything. He lied and tricked me. He manipulated me to satisfy his own needs, though if I’m honest, so did I. I purposefully tried to make him hate me to fire me, dump me, and let me get away with assaulting his car. I can’t deny the fact that we both completely fucked this whole thing up, but instead of hatred or anger, I realize I still love him more than anything.

  I don’t even know how to address this, so I let out a long breath and join his laughter. “So what’s the plan now? Your grandmother isn’t dying and your whole family thinks we’re engaged. Where do we go from here? What was your endgame?”

  “Well, actually,” he says, pulling a black box from his pocket, “this is my grandmother’s ring. It’s been in our family for hundreds of years—passed down time and time again.”

  My mouth drops open and I freeze.

  “I know I wasn’t honorable in how I got you here, but I feel like everything between us happened for a reason. You’re my reason to live now, Poppy, and I’m sorry I had to take the steps I did to get us here. If I only could have been this man when we met, things may have gone differently. But the man I am now isn’t an act. I’m not trying to fool you or anyone into thinking I’m something other than what I am. I’m this person because of you. Being with you, touching you, kissing you, falling in love with you—it’s all made me who I am today. And I can’t thank you enough for that. I never thought when I started this whole thing that this is how we’d end up, but I can’t help but feel like things happened for a reason. I don’t want to lose you. I thought one night of having you in my bed would be enough. But it’s not. I can’t settle for anything less than having you in my arms every single night for the rest of my life. One night with you—hell, one month or year with you—would never be enough. I need forever. Will you marry me . . . for real this time?”

  He opens the box and my mouth drops open wide. I take in the ring and it’s far better than the pretend engagement ring he purchased before. This ring is huge! One massive diamond in the center with dozens of little ones surrounding it. The band is gold and shining like it’s never even been worn. It’s beautiful and breathtaking and exciting. But what do I say?

  I’ve been so focused on our ending that I never even imagined that this could happen. I thought my feelings were one-sided and that his were nothing more than an act. But I was wrong. So wrong. He loves me!

  Twenty-Four

  Matthew

  Time has stopped. Everything is frozen in this moment as I watch her stare at the ring with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I have no idea what’s going through her head, and that scares the living shit out of me. This whole week—this whole month—has been leading up to this one moment. I think my heart and lungs stop working as I anxiously await her answer.

  I can’t say I’d blame her for turning me down—not after the lies and manipulation I used to get her here—but I can only pray she sees past that. That was a desperate act from an even more desperate man. I did whatever I needed to do to get her here, and as much as I hate the way I did it, I could never regret it.

  “Poppy,” I say her name and her eyes pop up to lock on mine. “Will you marry me?”

  She shakes her head, her mouth still hanging open. “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “Do you love me?” I ask, leveling my eyes on her.

  Her mouth closes and her eyes fill with tears as she nods her head.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “I love you too, and I need to know that you’re mine for the rest of my life.” I get up and walk around the table to her side, falling down on one knee, still presenting the ring to her. “I need you by my side. I need you every day for the rest of my life. I will spend my life proving to you day after day that I’m the man you helped me become—that I’m the man you’ve fallen in love with. Will you please, please marry me?” My eyes fall closed, anxiously waiting.

  There’s a long pause as she thinks, and I refuse to open my eyes for fear of seeing the word NO stamped all over her face. If she says “no,” I don’t know what I’ll do or how I’ll move on. I’ve never been in love before—not like this. I don’t know how to heal from heartbreak. My best guess is that I wouldn’t. I’ll never recover if I lose her.

  “Yes,” she breathes out. She said it so softly that I almost didn’t catch it.

  My eyes pop open to study her face. There are still unshed tears in her eyes, but she’s wearing a soft smile.

  “Yes,” she says again, a little louder this time.

  My own smile breaks free and I take off the pretend engagement ring and replace it with the real one. I pull her into my arms and kiss her. I kiss her until I can’t breathe anymore, and then I continue to kiss her. I don’t need air if I have her.

  I plant both knees on the deck and pull her against me, falling back to sit with my legs stretched out and her sitting on top of me. Her arms are around my neck as she kisses me in a way she’s never kissed me before. She was holding out before, because now I can feel every ounce of love she has for me. It’s pouring out of her and raining down on me like I’ve been trapped in a tropical storm without any shelter. She is the storm. My storm.

  Dinner has been completely forgotten as I push myself up with her in my arms. I carry her into the house, but my need to be inside her now is too great to make it all the way to the bedroom. I press her back against the wall right inside the door I didn’t care enough to close. My hands move up her loose skirt and find her panties. With one firm yank, they’re ripped and falling to the floor. I reach between us, freeing myself from my shorts. Only seconds later, I’m sliding deep into her core.

  She lets out a sound of both joy and relief, and it makes my cock twitch inside her. Her heat and tightness welcome me—almost scorching me, but in a painless way. It’s overwhelmingly perfect in every single way possible. Our kiss hasn’t broken, but I think I’ve finally learned to live without air, because the burn in my lungs is now gone, replaced with euphoric tingles that take over my whole body.

  As her muscles tighten around me and her whimpers and moans grow louder, I lose myself in her storm as it rains down on me so heavily that I can’t see anything past her. But that’s okay. As long as I have her, I don’t need to see anything else anyway.

  We make it back home, but that doesn’t change anything between us. We’re a newly engaged couple who can’t keep their hands to themselves. The moment we walk in, she’s back in my arms and I’m carrying her over to the piano. Time to break it in properly.

  Minutes turn into hours, and hours into days. Neither of us has escaped our own little world to go back out into society. Our time is spent making love, sleeping, and repeating the process. We’ve been home for two days but haven’t even left the house. In here, we’re perfect. In here, nothing can get to us. But tomorrow we’ll finally have to return to work, and I hate the thought of venturing out into the real world. I much prefer the one we’ve created. Despite it all, we dress to go over to my grandmother’s for our rescheduled dinner, since we missed Friday night due to our vacation.

  Even though I don’t want to
leave the apartment, I’m excited to see the look on Gran’s face when she sees that Poppy has accepted the ring.

  We walk into her house and we’re told to go out to the patio rather than the lounge, which I find odd, but I lead Poppy out with a smile. I stop when I walk out and find not only my Gran, but my father too, along with a young woman who looks like she’s paid by the hour, if you know what I mean. She has long, blonde hair—the unnatural kind—overdone makeup, and a tight dress I’m sure has my grandmother in a tizzy.

  “Oh, hello,” I say, looking at my father and ignoring the escort who’s clearly being paid to be here. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I say, pulling Poppy up to my side.

  He unfolds his hands and gestures for us to sit down. “I know. I wasn’t sure if I could make it, but here I am.”

  Gran looks up at Poppy and smiles. “It’s nice to see you again, dear.”

  Poppy gives her a quick hug before taking a seat.

  “I see that you’ve accepted my ring.” She smiles. “That’s wonderful.”

  Poppy looks down at the ring on her finger with a smile and nods. “It really is. I love it, but are you sure you don’t want to hang on to it? It’s so beautiful and has so much history.”

  “Nonsense. That’s been passed down for generations, and right there on your hand is where it belongs now. I have high hopes for the two of you.”

  “I do too, Gran,” I agree, wrapping my arm around Poppy while I take the drink the maid is offering.

  I hand Poppy the glass and take another for myself.

  “Matthew, son, I’d like to introduce you to Bethany. Bethany is the daughter of Roger Steinbeck. You remember him, don’t you?”

  I think back, trying to figure out who Roger Steinbeck is. “Should I?” I ask, raising my glass to my lips but freezing.

  He almost rolls his eyes but refrains. “Roger is in line to take over the company. I’m retiring soon. He’s taking the spot that was meant for you.”

  “That’s nice, Dad,” I reply, looking over at my grandmother. “So, how’ve you been, Gran?”

  She smiles but she knows my father isn’t done, so she doesn’t reply.

  “Matthew,” my father says, leaning forward slightly.

  Resentfully, I look back at him.

  “I brought Bethany here to meet you. To show you that you have so many more options than what you think you have.”

  Poppy’s mouth drops. She know this is clearly about her, and after that file he sent me, I should have expected something like this.

  “I know my options, Dad, and I’m more than happy with the choice I’ve made.” I reach over, placing my hand on Poppy’s knee.

  His dark, beady eyes watch as my hand moves to rest on her leg. His back straightens and his eyes narrow. Finally, he looks over at Gran. “How could you give her that ring?”

  Gran seems surprised that her son would be so rude. I, however, am not. “That was my decision and none of your business,” she replies.

  “None of my business?” he asks, running a hand through his thick black-and-gray hair. “That was a family heirloom, and you’ve just given it away to a gold digger.” His eyes flash toward Poppy before bouncing back to Gran.

  Poppy stands up. “I am not a gold digger!”

  Dad looks up at her, surprised that she would actually stick up for herself. He rolls his eyes, annoyed that he seems to have upset this woman he considered to be so far beneath him. “Look, honey, I didn’t mean for you to take offense. It’s just that you have to see the striking difference between the two of you. There are certain expectations when you’re a Lewis. It’s nothing personal.”

  She gasps and I stand up to defend her, but Gran speaks above us all.

  “Matthew Lewis!” she shouts, and I jump to attention even though I know I’m not the Matthew in trouble. “I will not sit by and watch you devastate this girl. She is a very good woman who may not have come from money, but she makes up for that in compassion and kindness. Something you have none of. It wouldn’t hurt you to take a lesson from her. Now, this is my house and I will not tolerate your tone any longer. If you can’t control yourself, you know where the door is. If you leave, please do not return until you know how to be civilized. This family may have money, but we also have class, and I’ve got serious doubts about you. This young lady, however, belongs more than you do in this moment. I’m closing this discussion for good.” Her eyes look from my father to me, then soften when she looks at Poppy, but then they take on a harder edge when she looks back at my father.

  Dad looks from her, to me, to Poppy, and then back. It’s like he’s trying to decide what he should do. He didn’t expect Gran to jump to her rescue. Right now, it’s three against one. He’s outnumbered and he’s always been a man of numbers. He knows when he’s lost, but he’s not a good loser. He’s a spoiled child who’s ready to throw a tantrum the moment he’s denied something he wants.

  “So this is how it’s going to be?’ he asks, looking only at her. “You’re choosing her over your own son?”

  “I’m not choosing anyone, dear. I simply prefer to be in the company of those I can enjoy, and your company is less than favorable,” Gran replies.

  Dad lets out a long breath, shakes his head, then pushes himself forward, the girl quickly following along.

  “Matthew, please show your father out. We still have class, after all.”

  I do as I’m asked, following them to the door, but there are a million things on the tip of my tongue I’m trying to hold back.

  Twenty-Five

  Poppy

  “Poppy,” Matthew’s grandmother says once we’re left alone on the patio. I look up to meet her eyes and she continues, “I don’t want anything that was said here tonight to sway your decision. I was just like you once.”

  “You were?” I ask, already filled with doubt about this marriage.

  She nods. “I didn’t come from money. In fact, when I married my late husband, I didn’t have any money to my name at all. I was living with my parents who were hard-working but very poor. Matthew, my husband, was the one who came from money, and I had to fight with his family, just like you’re doing now. They said I was trash—that I didn’t belong in their world, and that our marriage would never work. Well,” she smiles, “here I am, nearly six decades later.”

  “Did they ever accept you?”

  “I don’t think so. Though it got to a point where they no longer cared. I dreaded every holiday with a passion, because I knew it meant I had to be around them. But after the first few months of our marriage, they began to hold their tongues. Instead of offending me with their words, they ignored me. And to me, being ignored was better than the constant fighting. When his father passed away, his mother only grew to be more bitter. And when she passed away, I helped to organize her funeral.” She smiles. “I put her in this god-awful gown and mismatched shoes. I remember her wearing the gown once. She did nothing but complain about how uncomfortable it was—how it looked to be made out of some middle-class house’s drapes. But she had to wear it once, because it was a gift from her husband. So I picked the most hideous thing in her closet, and that’s what she’s buried in—still wearing to this day,” she says with a content smile and a head nod.

  I can’t hold back my laugh.

  “I realize it was petty of me, but damn, did it feel good in the moment!” She lets out a long laugh now and I join in. “So, see, everything comes full circle and works itself out. I can only hope that we have a better relationship than I had with my mother-in-law, and that you respect my wishes.”

  “After that, how could I not?” I laugh out.

  “The point, dear, is that you will always be welcome in my home. Please don’t let one bad apple ruin your life for you. You two are good for each other. Don’t let anything get in the way of what you have.”

  I nod, letting her know I’ve heard her words, then Matthew walks back to the patio and takes my hand in his.

  “Are you all ri
ght?” he asks, leaning in like he doesn’t even care his grandmother is watching us so intently.

  “I’m fine,” I promise.

  “Are you sure? I’m sorry about my father. He’s always been an asshole.” He freezes like he’s just realized he’s done something he shouldn’t. “Sorry about the language, Gran.”

  “Asshole is an understatement,” she replies, causing all of us to laugh.

  The rest of dinner progresses without a hitch. We talk, laugh, eat, and drink expensive wine. By the time we leave, I feel almost giddy, and I’ve completely forgotten about our before-dinner drinks and the conversation that took place. Matthew and I load back up into the car and he starts the drive home. He seems tense, though, probably still annoyed by his father, so I want to break the ice.

  “Did you know that your grandmother and great-grandmother didn’t get along?”

  He looks over at me quickly. “No. Did she tell you that?”

  I nod. “She said she didn’t come from money, so when she started seeing your grandfather, his family did not approve—they made her life hell, basically.”

  “Huh,” he replies.

  “She said they never did accept her. Instead, they switched from pulling stunts like your father did to just ignoring her altogether.”

  He lets out a long breath. “I just hope that isn’t how our lives go.”

  “She said that when she buried your great-grandmother, she put her in a dress she hated, with mismatched shoes to boot,” I laugh out the last bit and he joins in.

  The cab of the car is no longer filled with thick tension. Now that it’s full of our laughter, everything else falls away.

  “That does sound like my Gran. She’s feisty. Just like you.” He squeezes my hand.

  We ride the rest of the way home in silence. I’m too lost in thought to think up something to talk about. I wonder if my life will be anything like his grandmother’s. Obviously, I won’t have to deal with his whole family hating me—just his father. But can I deal with that? Going to family parties and being treated like an outcast the whole time? Will every family event be filled with drama? Our wedding? The births of our children if we have any? Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthday party? Is Matthew worth that?