Boss Meets Her Match

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“No. Trust in myself.”

She leaned forward, resting her forearms along the table. The moment was so alive in her memory that she could still feel the sting of his palm across her cheek. The shame was still so great that she’d never told anyone except her mother. Not even Sadie.

Sadie leaned in closer. “Tell me.”

“I was in love. Head over heels, down the rabbit hole, don’t care about anything anyone says, this is my soulmate in love. Until he slapped me. Because I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.”

The slap had been completely unexpected. So out of character. It had taken her breath away. That moment and the rapid shift from shock to disbelief to heartbreak may have only lasted a few seconds in real time. But its legacy lived on in her behavior.

“That’s what it is?” Sadie asked softly. “That’s your trigger?”

She looked up into Sadie’s eyes. “I think so. I know that was the moment when I realized I couldn’t truly count on anyone except myself. When I got serious about school and college and getting myself and my family out of the constant fear and uncertainty of poverty.”

“And now that you’ve accomplished that goal, that incident has changed from being an incentive to being a hindrance?”

Lena brought her hands up and pressed her fingers against her lips. That was it. That single-minded drive that allowed her to ignore naysayers and overcome every obstacle had nothing to do now that she’d reached her goal and was in a place of safety. Sadie’s completely right.

“How do I change it though?”

“First step is realizing it,” Sadie replied. “I’m no expert, but I think the next step is recognizing when your feelings are coming from that trigger.”

“Oh. Easy.” Lena snapped her fingers. “Okay. Done. Next.”

Sadie took a sip of wine and raised her eyebrows. “See? That? That was the trigger. You realized you have emotional work to do so you went straight to sarcasm and being flippant.”

She wanted to be angry. It was right there, brimming at the back of her throat but she pushed it down. How did Sadie do it? She was right. Again. She picked up her fork and began pushing grits around on the plate. “I’m tired of this, Sadie. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“You’ve already begun. You’re tired because you’ve just realized the weight of this trigger you’ve been carrying for all these years.”

“But what’s next?”

Sadie shrugged. “For me, it was like I saw a truth about myself, and then I couldn’t unsee it. Does that make sense?”

“No.”

Sadie pressed her lips together and stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Lena. “Like when I went to Asheville with Wyatt to meet his sister’s friend, the one who was willing to take Jules if Wyatt couldn’t. She and her family are like a second family to Jules. I was feeling scared and threatened. Before I faced my abandonment issue, I would have done or said something to alienate her, to push her away before she could reject me. Now I know that it was normal and okay to feel nervous about meeting someone new and that they might actually like me.”

Lena nodded. “I understand that. But I don’t know. Maybe I should cancel my date with the doctor. He might be a nice guy. Maybe I shouldn’t date until I figure all this out.”

“I think you should keep the date. Like a test run for when you meet a guy you really like.”

“Test run. How romantic. I don’t know. Just thinking about being set up like this makes me mad.”

“Raise your right hand,” Sadie ordered.

“What? No. We are in public.”

“Levanta tu mano derecho.”

“Jesucristo, your Spanish sucks. How can you be so bad at it after all these years?”

“Your hand’s still on the table.”

She lifted her hand. “Okay. Fine. My hand is in the air.”

“Repeat after me—I will not be mean on my date with the doctor.”

“I will not be mean on my date with the doctor.”

“See? Easy.”

“Unless he deserves it.”

* * *

SATURDAY MORNING, MATT Cruised the bike along Rutledge Avenue, Colonial Lake providing a small breeze across its concrete hemmed water. He stood on the bike pedals, powering across Broad Street to the quiet and shady streets of the promised land of Charleston real estate: South of Broad. Taking a long, lazy left, he slowed as he made his way up Tradd Street, not exactly sure which of the multimillion-dollar, perfectly restored antebellum mansions belonged to Dr. Rutledge. That he’d just pedaled up a street named for the doctor’s family reminded him that while Eliot’s patronage was welcome if only to help the nonprofit become a reality sooner, it placed him squarely in the middle of that upper-class society that he’d run away from before.

The flash of a white BMW door and a swing of black hair ahead caught his eye. His heart jumped a few more notches and a shiver of pleasure danced along his nerves, twisting his lips into a smile. Well, well, well. Ms. Magdalena Reyes. Had Eliot gotten her involved in the project? He sat up, coasting past the last few lawns, watching her as she smoothed down the brick red skirt she wore. A casual print T-shirt topped the skirt. A thick black belt at her waist accentuated her curves. She leaned in, checking her reflection in the window. A small smile crossed her lips. Why not? She was drop-dead gorgeous and she knew it.

He made a quick turn up the sidewalk at the neighbor’s driveway and braked on the sidewalk by her car. Pulling off his sunglasses, he smiled at her. “Ms. Reyes. Imagine meeting you here.” He laughed as a scowl replaced her self-satisfied little smile.