Chapter 11
I straighten Fletcher’s tie. “Now remember, ask for help if you don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, Mom.”
I dust his shoulders off. After a weekend of tantrums and tears, I have conceded. Fletcher is starting work with Tristan this morning, and I have never felt so sick in my life. “And make sure you drink lots of water. If you get dehydrated, you won’t be able to concentrate.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Now, I’ve packed you a lunch. Don’t get into the habit of buying it. You will waste a fortune.”
“Mom.” Fletcher gives a subtle shake of his head.
“Because ... you know? What you start doing in this first job will lay the foundation for your entire working career. I want you to build good habits. This is an opportunity to learn, Fletch. Watch and learn, but always remember that you are an Anderson.” I pull my fingers through his hair.
He smiles down at me. “I will.”
“Being smart in business doesn’t mean you have to be cutthroat,” I remind him.
“I know; we talked about this.” He sighs.
“Your father was such a good man, Fletch, with the highest of morals.”
He smiles broadly.
It’s my greatest fear that Tristan is going to rub off on this young and impressionable boy. My eyes fill with tears at the mere prospect.
“Mom. Stop.”
I put my hands over my mouth as I stare up at my handsome son. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m just so nervous for you.”
“Why?”
“Because this is a big deal, and I don’t want you to mess it up.”
“Mom.” He sighs. “I stuffed underpants in the boss’s mouth before I even got the job. I’m pretty sure I’ve already messed it up as much as physically possible.”
I hold my forehead as I stare at him. “God, please don’t remind me. That will forever be the most mortifying moment of my life.” I go back to fiddling with his tie to distract myself.
“Worked out.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“Well, he never came back.” He smirks.
“We were just friends, Fletcher. He was never coming back anyway ... long before you did that. Don’t flatter yourself. If he and I were actually a thing, do you really think that would deter him?”
“Hmm.” He shrugs, not believing me.
I’ll never admit the truth—that he’s right, and just as he planned, it really did work.
Tristan never contacted me again after that fateful day.
He went from coming to my house to pursue me .
.. to never calling again. It says a lot about him and the gumption he has—or lack of it. Anyway, who cares?
Good riddance. I’m actually grateful that Fletcher scared him off. Saved me the job and stopped things from dragging out.
“Just remember to be professional,” I remind him.
“I know.”
“And use your manners.”
He rolls his eyes.
“And if you get into trouble, what do you do?”
“Go to the bathroom, and count to ten to calm down.” He sighs.
I smile as I fix his hair. “That’s it, Fletch.” I smile up at him. “You’re going to be great.”
I keep straightening his hair, and he swats me away. “That’s enough already, Mom.”
I grab his face hard in my hands and bring his eyes to mine. “Do you know how proud your father and I are of you?”
He shrugs sadly. “Thanks.”
I smile. “And call me on your lunch break.”
“Oh my God. Stop nagging me. I’m not going to have time.”
“One minute—you have one minute.”
With one last eye roll he walks downstairs, and I follow and grab my keys. “Let’s go.”
This is the longest day of my entire life. I pick up my phone and check it again. “It’s one thirty p.m. Why hasn’t he called?” I sigh.
“He probably forgot,” Marley replies.
“What if they didn’t give him lunch?” I say. “He can’t handle not eating. He might faint.”
Marley rolls her eyes. “It will be fine, and it isn’t a prison camp. Miles Media has one of the best reputations for treating their staff well.”
“Will you stop telling me that everything is going to be okay?” I snap. “Because I have a reason to be concerned, and I’m really worried about him.”
“Oh my God, you’re driving yourself crazy—and me, for that matter.”
“When you have a child who is going to work for the biggest bastard in the world, you let me know how you go.”
“Okay, fine.” She smiles my way. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Mr. Miles hasn’t called you, would it?”
I screw up my face in disgust. “What, as if I’m annoyed that he hasn’t call me?
I had already broken it off with him—not that we actually had anything to break off.
It was just one week, Marley, and besides, Tristan Miles means nothing to me.
But I have serious suspicions as to why he would’ve hired Fletcher in the first place.
Something feels off. Fletcher tried to bash him with his own underpants, for God’s sake. ”
Marley giggles. “Oh Lord, how I wish I was there to see that. I bet Tristan Miles has never had that before.”
I smile as I remember that momentous day. I’ve never been so horrified and yet so amused at the same time. Not that I would ever admit that to anybody, not even Marley.
“I’m just gonna text him. I can’t be going crazy like this for any longer.” I type.
Hi Fletch, how’s it going buddy?
A reply bounces straight back.
I hate this job. I hate this man, I’m not coming back tomorrow.
My eyes widen in horror. “Oh no, Marley. This is going to be worse than him not even starting. I can just see it.”
I text back.
Why what’s happening?
He texts back.
Talk to you tonight I’ve got five minutes left for lunch.
I look up at Marley, my stomach sinking. “What’s happening over there? I don’t believe this.”
Marley rolls her eyes. “I do, actually. Let’s face it, Claire. Fletcher doesn’t exactly take orders well.”
I blow out a big deep breath. “Hopefully his afternoon will be better.”
Marley smiles. “It will be. Don’t you remember what it was like to start a new job? Everybody’s first day at a new job is bad, Claire.”
I shrug. “I guess you’re right.”
“Everything is going to be fine. Relax, and let him go. He’s nearly a man. He needs to find his own way.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. I pick up my pen and try to get back to work. Nightmare images of my poor little baby all alone in that big cranky corporate office are flying through my mind.
Why couldn’t he just go to university?
I stir the cheese into the large pot of spaghetti bolognese.
I finished early today, and although I wanted to pick Fletcher up from work, I let him catch the train home.
I’m really trying my hardest to give him a little tough love.
He wants to be a big boy and work; he needs to learn how to be self-sufficient. I look at the clock. Where is he?
I glance up at my other two sons, who are sitting at the kitchen counter. “How did it go at school today, Harry?”
“Okay.”
“How was Mrs. Parkinson?”
“A witch, as usual.” He sighs.
“I don’t think it’s very nice to be calling your teacher a witch.”
“Yeah, well, if she stopped acting like one, I wouldn’t have to call her one.”
“Just stay out of trouble, please, Harry. You’re on your last warning at that school. I need you to behave. You need to show everyone how smart and charming you really are.”
Harry rolls his eyes. Patrick smiles goofily up at me.
“Now let’s be nice when Fletch gets home. He’s had a really bad day. And I want you boys to try and make him feel better.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Harry asks with an eye roll.
“Just talk about things and take his mind off it. Make him laugh. Try and make him see that things aren’t as bad as he thinks.”
Harry smiles. “I think they are as bad as he thinks. Imagine working with that pompous donkey.”
“You don’t even know him,” I snap. “You can’t say that; he’s a nice man. And he’s Fletch’s new boss, so you show him some respect.”
We hear the front door bang, and Fletcher comes into view. His hair is messed, his tie is askew, his jacket is off, his shoelaces are undone. He looks like he’s been to hell and back. I bite my lip to stifle my smile as I give him a hug. “How is my big working boy?”
“It was literal hell.”
My face falls. “Why? What happened?”
“Basically, I ruined everything I touched.”
“That’s okay. You’re only new; they can’t expect you to know everything. Nobody knows everything on the first day.” I smile as I watch him. “What was the last thing that he said to you?”
“Don’t you dare be late tomorrow.”
I frown. “Didn’t he say ‘Thanks for your first day’?”
“No, Mom. I told you he’s an asshole.”
“Hmm. Well, let’s just see how tomorrow goes.”
“I’m not going back.”
“Yes, you are, Fletcher,” I snap. “You’re going to work two weeks there. I will not have you embarrassing me. If you don’t like it after two weeks, you can stop, but you will ride it out and at least give it a chance.”
Fletcher rolls his eyes and sits at the table, and I put his spaghetti bolognese down in front of him. “I made your favorite.”
“I’m too tired to eat it.”
I fake a smile and run my fingers through his hair. “I know, baby, me too.”
I sit at the table and wait for Fletcher to arrive home from work. Honestly, who knew having a child start work would be so stressful? I can’t think, I can’t sleep, and I’ve been leaving work early every day so that I can get home well before he does and cook his favorite meals.
Tristan is giving him hell, and I know that he may need it.
But the mother in me is worried that Tristan is just trying to teach him a lesson over the way they met.
I close my eyes in horror. I can’t even think of that day without cringing.
Whipping him with underpants and then trying to stuff them in his mouth . .. oh, the horror.
What on earth was Fletcher thinking?
But you know what? I’m proud of Fletch. I’m proud of him for making it above all those other candidates, for taking the job in the first place, and then for having the courage to stick with the job and go back day after day.