By a Thread: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy

We took Brownie next door to Mrs. Grosu’s warm, cozy bungalow and ate French toast casserole while she updated us on what sounded like an entire army of children and grandchildren.

I took advantage of Ally’s exhaustion and helped her pack two days’ worth of clothes—a compromise that I magnanimously agreed to—before driving us back into the city that was just beginning to wake up.

It had been a long fucking night, but I was energized. For the first time since I’d stepped into my father’s role at Label, I felt confident in what I needed to do.

While Ally got Brownie his breakfast. I warmed up the kettle and fired off a text to my mother.

Me: Need to talk. It’s important. My house?

Mom: You really know how to strike fear in a mother’s heart before 7 in the morning. Is Brownie okay? Are you okay?

Me: Sorry. Brownie and I are both fine. Everything is fine. Just need to talk.

Mom: I can be there by 8. But I want breakfast if you’re determined to deliver bad news.

I winced.

Ally yawned and bent down to peer under the kitchen sink.

“What are you doing?” I asked, admiring the view of her ass in my sweats. It felt like a claim staked.

“Looking for some kind of cleaner. Aha!” Triumphantly, she produced a bottle.

I watched as she grabbed the paper towels and liberally sprayed the spot where only hours ago, we’d fucked like horny teenagers.

For some reason, it struck me as funny, and I laughed.

Ally raised an eyebrow in my direction. Brownie lifted his head out of his bowl and stared at me, head cocked. Had I never laughed in front of my dog before? Was I really that soulless?

“What?” Ally asked, wiping down the countertop. “Sooner or later, someone is going to make a sandwich here.”

I took the bottle and the towels from her. “Go upstairs and shower.”

“Bossy,” she complained, yawning again. “Can’t we just go to bed?”

“Not yet. My mom is coming over.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened as it sunk in. “Wait, you’re telling Dalessandra that we had sex?”

I laughed again at the horror on her face. It had been a hell of a lot more than sex, and we both knew it.

“My father kept a lot of things from her.”

“But it was just—”

I put my hand over her mouth. “If you try to say that last night was ‘just sex,’ I am going to work very hard to prove you very wrong.”

She pulled my hand away and poked me in the chest. “Excuse me. Don’t you think this is a conversation we should have before we include your mother, our boss?”

The woman seemed really hung up on the hierarchy. She also had a practically infinitesimal point. “Fine. Ally, last night changed everything for us, and I’m not willing to return to a strictly professional relationship.”

“There are miles between a strictly professional relationship and dating, Dom.”

“Not in this case, there isn’t. Are we together?”

“What about the policy?”

“Forget everything else right now. Forget the policy. My mother. Your father. Forget that hovel in New Jersey.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Forget everything else except you and me. Right here. Right now.” Pulling her into me felt so fucking right after all those weeks I’d wasted pushing her away. “Are we together?”

She studied me quietly. There was a war brewing behind those whiskey eyes.

“We can make this work. All of it. I promise you that. I just need you to say the words, Maleficent.”

She bit her lip as her fingers worried little circles into my biceps. I was asking her to trust me when I hadn’t ever given her a reason to. But I needed her to have faith in me.

“Give me a minute,” she said.

I dipped my head and traced my tongue over her earlobe. “Think about last night, Ally. That was real. We’re real. We can make this work. If you want to.”

“But how?”

I shook my head. “The how doesn’t matter right now. What matters is if you want this. If you want us.” On cue, my very smart dog wedged his face between us.

I was holding on to her too tight. I could feel her balanced on that ledge, and long seconds ticked by without me knowing which way Ally would lean. My Ally. She didn’t really have a choice. Neither did I. And I think we both knew it.

“When you say ‘this,’ what do you mean?” she asked.

“Us. Together.”

“Monogamous?”

I glared at her. “Yes. So don’t even think of that asshole Christian James again.”

“Both of us. Monogamous,” she repeated.

“Of course.”

“What else?” she pressed.

“Ally, I don’t fucking know. We’ll figure it out. We both want to continue having sex with each other and only each other, correct?”

“That’s not exactly romantic,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I’m not really a hearts and flowers kind of guy.” I was more of a “fuck her in a dark corner until she screamed my name” kind of guy.

“This is crazy,” she breathed.

“It is.”

“And irresponsible and stupid, and we’re both probably just drunk on sex.”

“Life-changing, counter-defacing sex,” I pointed out.

Her lips trembled, then lifted. “I’m probably going to regret this.”

I held my breath and squeezed her arms. Say it.

“But I’m in. Let’s give this disaster waiting to happen a shot.”

Relief and something brighter, warmer, happier, lit me up from the inside. I picked her up and spun us around. Ally’s arms came around my neck and held tight.

“This is insane,” she laughed.

It was. And for the first time in my life, the insane choice felt like the right one.

Forty-five minutes later, my mother arrived in a subtle cloud of Chanel No. 5 and oversized sunglasses.

I took her coat while she showered her granddog with attention. “I still can’t believe you got a dog,” she said, straightening back into her elegant and proper posture.

“I’m an excellent dog dad,” I pointed out, opening the door and ushering her through.

“Of course you are,” she said, patting my cheek. “I’m just surprised you committed. It’s a good thing you haven’t felt compelled to commit to everything you’ve ever French kissed.”

“About that.”

My mother stopped in her tracks in the kitchen doorway.

“Hi.” Ally waved guiltily with a spatula from her sentry at the stove.

“Ah,” Mom said and turned back to me. Her expression was unreadable. But I wasn’t picking up on any hostile vibes. Yet. “Hello, Ally,” she said.

“Mom, have a seat,” I said, pushing her toward the table Ally had set in the dining room while I cooked.

She sat, and I gestured for Ally to do the same. I took the pan off the heat and scooped eggs and spinach onto plates with sliced tomatoes.

Carrying the plates into the dining area, I felt remarkably calm for what I was about to do. And that told me everything I needed to know. It was time for new priorities.

I took the chair next to Ally’s and picked up my tea.

“Mom. I’m resigning.”