Bossy Neighbors (Bosses With Benefits #2)

Chapter 1

Maddy

“We’ll just hang out by the bar,” Wes shrugs from the driver’s seat. “I’ll buffer for you. You don’t even have to talk to anyone. All you have to do is smile and look pretty.”

I chew on my lower lip, feeling the frustration building in the worst way. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk to anyone or stand in front of people… I just—”

“You’re worried about walking down the aisle in those shoes I bought you.” Wes gives my legs a once-over. “They are higher than your usual.” He lets out a hum. “But you know you’ll crush it, right?”

“Alright, so…” I let out an exasperated sigh, “It’s not the freaking shoes. Would you just let me talk?”

Wes raises his hands briefly in surrender. “I’m sorry. Sorry. My bad. What’s wrong with you then?”

“It’s just that I’m really stressed…” I pause, my voice trailing off now that I suddenly have the floor.

The air inside his car is suffocating, reeking of his cologne, a scent I normally like.

I let out a deep breath, and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing out the truth.

“But it’s not the shoes. Or walking down the aisle. Or any of that.”

He puts his hand on my knee and squeezes. “Okay, so then just don’t stress about whatever it is. Tonight is going to be fun. Just chill out, Maddy.”

I resist the urge to yell at him. “Wes.”

“What?” He flashes that grin—the one that made me say yes the first time, and every time after. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I got fired,” I finally blurt. There. Just plop the truth out right before our friends’ big day.

He lets out a long sigh that makes my heart sink. “When?”

I swallow my nerves. “Yesterday. They called me in, said I wasn’t a ‘good fit’ and that maybe I’d be happier somewhere more…collaborative. Whatever that even means.”

He snorts, shaking his mop of dark hair. “So, they’re idiots and probably running out of money to pay you. Did you tell them about the time you organized your mom’s entire attic just for fun?”

“Wes, I appreciate the humor, but this is serious…” I might be homeless soon, and I might need to move in with you.

“Hey.” He turns in his seat, his blue eyes softening. “You’re smart. And you’re hot. You’ll get something better in, like, five minutes. I’ll help you with your LinkedIn. You just need a more attractive headshot.”

I know he’s trying to be helpful, but he’s only making me feel worse.

I look out the window, trying to calm my spiraling thoughts. “You can’t just get a new job in five minutes.”

“Okay, six.” He nudges my arm playfully. “Are you going to cry? Should I get tissues? There’s a roll of paper towels in the trunk, but they might smell like gasoline.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, and basically will the tears to stay where they are. “Never mind. It’s fine. I just… Yeah, never mind.”

He lets out a grunt that makes me wince. “Babe, if it’s that big a deal, why didn’t you say something earlier? Instead, you’re dropping this on me right before we’re supposed to be having a great night.”

“I was going to tell you,” I breathe out. “But you’ve been busy. And then—”

“Maddy, listen to me.” He leans in, hand on my thigh. “That place sucked. They never deserved you.”

“Maybe they did let me go because of budget cuts. But also, I missed the deadline on two projects because of the shitty team I was put on, and I realize that I should’ve maybe been better about communicating.” And now I might not make rent because of those poor communication skills.

But I don’t say that, because Wes is giving me a look that makes me immediately feel stupid. Clearly, he thinks I’m just self-deprecating again, because that’s my brand, according to him. We ride in silence for a few moments longer, and then he finally lets out a long, dramatic breath.

“Let’s not let this ruin today, okay?” He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “We’ll get you drunk and take a bunch of hot photos. I mean, look at you.”

He gestures at me like I’m a prize on some sort of game show, ignoring the fact that I am basically a dumpster fire internally right now.

Who gives a shit if I’m hot?

The thought is so ridiculous I actually laugh. “You’re such an idiot.”

He beams, leaning in and quickly kissing my temple. “But I’m your idiot.”

But even as the air feels lighter… I don’t. My stomach still feels nauseous, my knee is bouncing uncontrollably, and I can’t stop thinking about anything other than the fact I might not make rent next month.

It’s my fault. I’m the problem.

And even more so because I can’t keep my mouth shut, like my boyfriend would probably prefer.

“I just think that,” I start before I can stop, “that maybe the problem wasn’t them? That maybe I… can’t cut it? Maybe I’m always going to fail.”

He goes still, then shakes his head and laughs. “Wow. Wow. Okay. Babe, you can’t talk like that. You’ll manifest it right into being. You might really become what you say.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t think the universe is going to punish me for having a bad day.”

He gives a shrug, his expression nonchalant. “Maybe you were just too sensitive for that kind of place. Some people are like that.”

I stare at the dashboard. “Some people?”

He lets out a hum, raking his fingers through his hair. “You know. Not everyone is cut out for… office politics? Knowing who to work with and how. That’s not a flaw, babe. You’re just too sweet sometimes.”

He says it like he’s all-freaking-knowing, even though his own job involves designing website banners for artisanal beer companies that are mostly just clip art and stupid puns. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Right,” I say. My fingers twist the strap of my purse until the leather looks like it might break.

He smiles, probably thinking the crisis is over, and that he’s fixed me with the power of positive thinking with a side of backhanded compliments.

Or whatever the hell that was.

My heart starts to race as he pulls into the parking lot, because no matter how much I want it to be, this conversation is still not over.

I still need to ask him if I can move in with him.

And not because it’s cute or romantic, but because my next rent payment is basically going to be the death of me. But if I say that now, after he’s called me too sensitive and implied that I should just manifest a new life for myself, I think I might actually implode with humiliation.

So I just sit there, trying to gather my courage. He parks the car and just as I turn in the seat to ask, a fist lands on the car window. I jar sideways, startled, but instantly recognize the hideous shades of coral and brown we’re all required to march around in today.

“Hey, man,” Jared says. “They really need you inside for something with the sound system? I don’t know how to adjust that shit, but apparently you do.”

Wes perks up. “Fuck yeah, I love that stuff. I’ll be right there.” He then looks over at me, a weird sympathetic expression on his face. “You cool?”

I nod. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

He’s out the door before I can finish the sentence, striding toward the church like he’s been cast as himself in the movie adaptation of his own life. But that’s Wes for you, always confident and cocky like he owns the air around him.

I sit alone in the car for one minute, then two, then three. I practice my smile in the rearview. I try to picture a version of myself that is competent and poised and ready to face a room full of people who all have jobs, who all have plans that extend beyond next Tuesday.

Must be nice.

After five minutes, I pop the trunk, haul out the gift bag with Elizabeth’s emergency flats, the backup veil, and a bunch of pastries she requested. The box immediately dumps half its contents onto the sidewalk.

Ugh. Why am I always the clumsiest girl in the room?

I drop down in an awkward squat as I try to sweep them up, and I’m still wrestling with boxes and my own deep sense of personal failure, when I hear my name from the doorway. Riley, my best friend and co-bridesmaid, wearing the same ugly-ass coral dress as me, comes rushing out.

“Maddy! Come on! They’re lining up!”

“Sorry, sorry.” I scoop up a rogue muffin, brushing off what I hope is only a little dirt. “This day…”

“Is going to be just fine.” Riley takes the box from me as I stand up straight. “Come on. We’ll survive it together. I promise.”

“Okay.” I breathe out a sigh, wishing I could hug her. But we both have an armful. So, I resign to following her gratefully into the church and through the corridors.

In the area sectioned off for the bridal party, it’s a madhouse. Bridesmaids are doing final lipstick checks, groomsmen are doing that weird bro-hugging and chest-bumping thing, and the wedding planner is speaking so fast, it sounds like she’s speaking in tongues or something.

Over by the stained-glass windows, I spot Wes, already deep in conversation with a blonde in a bridesmaid dress. Her laugh is loud enough to carry, and when she touches his arm, he leans in, a grin on his face.

What the hell?

My stomach feels like it’s in knots. But again, that’s just Wes, the ever-friendly, nice guy who knows how to talk to anyone. Including Elizabeth’s long-lost cousin, apparently.

Riley follows my gaze and then touches my arm. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with him being so distant all the time. He’s totally an avoidant. Also, you seem on edge. Is it the job thing?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me.” She smirks, her blonde hair with pink streaks clashing horribly with her dress. “But speaking of being avoidant, you should tell him you want to move in. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“You don’t want to know. I tried earlier, but I don’t know if it’s the right time… And I’ll probably fuck it up before I even get half the words out.”

“Maybe not.” Riley wrangles the veil out of my hands.

“But I know you’re going to be okay, girl.

Let’s just get through this and drink as much free Prosecco as possible.

Don’t worry about the rest. Or you know, that.

” She nods to where Wes is now laughing his ass off, with the long-lost cousin tipping her head back to join.

I swear, he could charm a dead cat if he wanted to.

“Hey, is there a Maddy Williams here?” the wedding planner calls out suddenly, her eyes scanning all our faces.

I swallow hard and raise a hand. “Right here.”

She breathes out a sigh of relief. “We need that backup veil. I just got a text from Elizabeth. Can you take it to her?”

I nod, just as Riley shoves the stupid veil back into my hands. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Follow me,” the wedding planner says to me, giving me a tight-lipped smile beneath her gray updo. “She’s very nervous.”

“I can only imagine.” I have to nearly jog to keep up with the woman as we head down a side hallway, the lighting gloomy and casting a yellow shade across anything it touches. I have no idea why they chose this place of all wedding venues, but to each their own.

It’s a good distraction from the fact my mind is still stuck on the woman with her hand on my boyfriend’s forearm.

I’m just feeling jealous because I’m insecure right now. That’s all it is.

But my gut sure as hell still doesn’t want to settle down.

Finally, the wedding planner pushes through a set of double doors, and Elizabeth is waiting there, a vision in lace and tulle, her dark hair perfectly arranged in beachy waves. She looks like a princess. And hugs me so tight I almost drop the veil.

“Maddy, oh my god,” she drawls, “You look amazing! I’m so glad we went with the coral. It brings out your complexion in the best way.”

“Thank you,” I manage to mutter as she releases me from her vice grip. “You look like something out of a fairytale.” A genuine smile erupts on my face. “I’m so happy for you and Lance.”

She smiles, batting away an invisible tear. “Thank you. Is Wes here already, too? He’s the only one who can get my brother to behave for photos.”

“He’s here,” I say, my lips faltering. “Already charming the guests, too. I think he made friends with your cousin… I can’t remember her name.”

“Oh… Ellie. She is such a sweetheart. And kind of shy. That’s great that they’re getting along.” Elizabeth beams, her eyes starry. “He’s just the best, isn’t he?”

I hesitate. I want to say yes. I want to see him the way everyone else does—a loveable, harmless guy who always knows how to make everyone feel better.

But I can’t see him like that right now. And I’m not sure when I started feeling that way about him either.

“You okay?” Elizabeth tilts her head at me. “You look a little pale.”

I shake my head and extend the veil. “I’m totally fine. I think it’s just the lighting in here.”

“It is so shitty.” Elizabeth smiles at me, and then promptly launches into wedding logistics, jumping from detail to detail like a butterfly on crack, and I do my best to follow her, letting the momentum of the day sweep me along.

“Can you fix this?” She turns to me, the veil setting crooked on her head. “It looks fucking atrocious right now.”

I let out a laugh and grab the step stool to make myself tall enough to have the right angle. “Here. Let me help.”

As I pin her veil, I try to work through what Wes said in the car. Maybe it is just me who doesn’t see what I’m actually doing wrong. Maybe I am too sensitive, too much, too… something.

But maybe if I keep trying, eventually I’ll find a space where I fit. Or maybe things will just get worse.

I guess we’ll just have to see.