The Wright Boss(107)

CHAPTER ONE!





The Wright Mistake



K.A. Linde





One



Julia


"I'm really … so sorry," I said with a sad smile. "I don't think this is going to work out."

Trevor stared back at me his face a mask of hurt and shock. We'd been together almost a year. A year in two days actually. Which made it all that much worse.

"You're … you're breaking up with me?" Trevor asked. "But Julia … "

"I know. I know."

"It's been a year. I had this whole," he breathed in deeply and looked away from me, "this whole thing planned for you for our anniversary."



       
         
       
        

I winced. Of course, he did. Because Trevor was this perfect, normal, nice guy. He was the guy who came over to your place to do your laundry while you were with your friends and filled up your gas tank when he noticed you were running low and called your mom to chat every Thursday. Or he would have done that last one … if he'd thought my parents were alive.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

He gave me a disbelieving look. "Why would you do this? There has to be a reason."

"Oh. I … don't think we're compatible."

"We've been together for a year. Don't you think you would have noticed that before now?"

I had. I couldn't say that. Not to him. But I'd definitely known it. Trevor was … safe. He made me complacent.

And he was trying to get too close.

Much too close for his own good.

"Yeah."

"You can't handle commitment, can you?" he asked. "You can't let anyone in. You won't let anyone know the real you."

I didn't say anything in my defense. That all was truer than he would ever know. I had let someone in, and it had fucking backfired like nothing else. It wasn't that I was commitment phobic; it was just when I got to the point of admitting everything that had happened in my life, I always realized it was too fucked up to continue. So, I ended it. Perfect normal Trevor couldn't handle the real Julia Banner.

"You should go," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He looked like he was going to plead with me, fall to his knees and beg. But he shook his head, turned, and walked out of my one bedroom apartment.

I sank into the couch and put my head in my hands. Why did I keep doing this to myself? Was this anyway to live?

My phone buzzed on the table and Heidi's name flashed on the screen. Heidi and I had met day one when I'd started working at Wright Construction as the head of HR almost two years ago. I loved her to pieces.

I picked up the phone. "Hey."

"Did you do it?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah. He hates me."

"Psh. Trevor from accounting couldn't hate a fly. He's hurt. He'll get over it."

"Yeah. I guess."

"Want to get fucked up to feel better about it?"

"I want to get fucked to feel better about it."

Heidi laughed. "That's my girl."

"Flips?"

It was the local bar that we always went to. By anyone else's standards, it was kind of a dump. But Heidi adored the place.

"Actually … we're all heading to Ransom Canyon for Memorial Day weekend. Lake, boats, barbeque-the trifecta. You in?" 

"And how exactly am I going to get laid out of this plan?"

"Well, there will be a lot of alcohol," Heidi hedged.

"And?"

"And … a lot of hot eligible men."

I rolled my eyes. "Like who?"

"The Wrights all invited a bunch of people to come hang out. I know your … issues with Austin, so I didn't mention it before. But I don't think that should stop you now."

I groaned. "Austin Wright is the biggest alcoholic jackass on this side of the planet! You know how he treated me when we were together."

"True," she added. "But … that was a year and a half ago. And since you slapped the shit out of him last fall, he's kind of avoided you like the plague. Which means you should be fine."

"Heidi!"

"Get your ass over here and bring a bathing suit. I want to see those tattoos you're sporting. I won't take no for an answer."

And then she unceremoniously hung up on me. I glanced down at it with a sigh. Maybe Heidi was right, and I needed some girl time to get over this break up.

I stripped out of my work attire and into a pair of cut off jean shorts and a black Queen tank top. I piled my dark red hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and admired the recently shaved undercut. I filled up my travel tote with enough clothes for a week away from home. Now, I just needed my favorite olive green bomber jacket. Not that May in Lubbock, Texas was cold by any stretch of the imagination, but the dusty, windy, and flat place I had called home for almost two years now, got cool on summer nights. But the jacket was nowhere to be found. I tore my apartment apart looking for it. I swore I'd left it hanging in my closet, but nope. No luck. Must have left it at work or in the car or something.