Page 22 of Boss Me
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut, I waved the note. “How did you find him?”
She grimaced. “He isn’t using his corporate card. I may have called his personal card company and pretended we thought it was stolen. Don’t tell him, especially if they cancel his card.”
Like I said, devious.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I stared at the note. “So I, uh, call them and ask for Cooper?”
She grimaced. “Sorry, already tried. They’re just as bad as his housekeeper. Wouldn’t even confirm he was staying there. You’ll have to go.”
“Go?” I blinked. I’d never been on an airplane. Never even left the state of California. I’d never needed to. Everything I cared about—my job, my family—was here.
“Yeah, you know. Fly out there. Find him. Kidnap him. Whatever it takes.”
Whatever it takes. She was right. The stakes were too high not to try it. Without Cooper, I wouldn’t have a job or any hope for my future. And neither would Marlee. Although she was a part-time member of the development team, if they forced out Jackson, they wouldn’t want to keep his most loyal supporter around.
“I’ve already reserved your flights for tomorrow morning. Sorry I can’t swing the company jet, but we need to keep this on the down-low, you know? You’ve got your corporate card? And a passport?”
“Cooper made me get one when I was hired. In case I had to travel with him.” I’d shivered when he’d told me, thinking about strolls along the Champs-Élysées or snapping a selfie in front of the Petronas Twin Towers with Cooper. But he’d never asked me to travel with him. And now, maybe he never would.
“Then you’re all set. Call me as soon as you find him, okay?” She rubbed at her eyelid, smearing mascara over the purple smudges that had lived for the past week under her eyes.
I whipped out my handkerchief—not the one that smelled like Cooper, but a regular one—and wiped away the mascara. “Okay. And you’ll call me if you hear anything else?”
“Yep.” She stared at me, hard. “There’s a lot riding on this. I know you can do it.”
I nodded, feeling like Spider-Man taking an order from Iron Man. Though Iron Man didn’t usually wear so much pink. The weight of the world—at least the company—sat heavy on my shoulders.
“And?” Her eyebrows rose.
“And…what?” I blinked at her.
“Go home! Pack. Sleep. Your only job now is to find Cooper. Focus, Ben.” She put her hands on her hips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded, opened the door, and strode out. I went back to the breakroom and tossed the remnants of my lunch. In a daze, I packed my satchel and left. This time tomorrow, I’d be on my mission: Operation Finding Nemo. I couldn’t come back without him.
When Mimi came home, I was staring into my duffel, piles of my clothes surrounding it on the couch that doubled as my bed.
“What are you doing?” She toed off her shoes and set her laptop bag on the floor next to them.
“Packing.”
“Obviously. What are you packing for, Benjamin? You’re not—You’re not leaving?” Her voice rose to a squeak.
“No! I mean, of course I’m leaving. But not permanently.”
“Good.” She flopped down into the armchair.
“Don’t you want me to leave, though?” I scanned the apartment we’d been sharing since I’d lost my old job. Fortunately, it was a one-bedroom, not a studio, so she still had a room to herself. And I tried to stay out of her way as much as I could. But when she’d moved in, she hadn’t planned to share it with her brother. There wasn’t much space beyond the small couch where I slept, the armchair, and what passed for a kitchen in Potrero Hill. As neat as I tried to be, as often as I cooked dinner for us both, she had to be ready to have her space to herself again.
She reached out and cuffed my shoulder. “Eventually. But I haven’t hated having my little brother around. I’ve liked having you where I can keep an eye on you.” She scanned the duffel and the piles of my clothes that usually lived in a pair of packing boxes in the corner.
“Did you finally give up on your crush on Cooper and meet someone?” Her eyes rounded. “Did you actually like David?”
My face went hot. “I do not have a crush on Cooper.”
Her lips flattened. “Yes, you do. Your eyes go all soft when you talk about him.”
