Work Wife Read Online C.L. Donley

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)

Anita doesn’t know how she’ll tell her boss of six years that she’s quitting. But when she finally does, Jonathan Jantzen, owner of Phoenix Capital proposes a counteroffer that Anita can’t turn down: marriage. Will the spontaneous gesture spell inevitable disaster? Or will Jonathan’s instincts for investments prove him right in the end?



Chapter 1

“So, Jonathan,” I began, my wrapped hair still hidden underneath my black head scarf.

I folded my arms at my own makeup-less reflection in the bathroom mirror and practiced my professional bad news pitch. I evened out my pert nose and lips, widening my almond eyes with the stern-yet-approachable expression. That and my heart-shaped face earned me the nickname Tinkerbell in my business camp days, back when I was transitioning from cheerleading overachiever to serious adult.

“With that face, you could tell me my house burned down with my dog in it and I’d thank you,” my favorite instructor once said. He taught me the art of delivering death blows like pleasantries, with a professionalism that walked a fine line between warm and ditzy. After 20 years, let’s just say it’s served me well.

I took a deep breath. Somehow I doubted my naturally youthful features were going to get me out of this one, however.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about a job offer that I was recently… was offered… wait…”

I scoffed, furrowing my brow and rolling my eyes as I stared back at myself. “What?” The wrinkle in my forehead still remained visible after years of being perplexed by bosses. I should name it after my current one though, I scoffed in sad amusement.

I gave up on the mirror exercise for the moment, turning on the shower behind me and letting the water heat. Maybe I should get all the way put together before I propose this to my imaginary boss. I hopped into the shower instead, preoccupied to say the least.

I didn’t even plan on looking for a new job, not really. Let alone getting an offer. But a headhunter friend of mine put a bug in my ear to try my luck. “After six years, you’re way overdue,” he’d said.

Within a few days, a steady stream of interest became a deluge. At first, it was simply flattering. But after two weeks, a dream job landed in my inbox: an opening for a digital forensics investigator. In New York City.

Digital forensics had become a passion of mine in the last year or two. “The guy in the chair” is what I wanted to be. It wasn’t far off from what I was doing now. Someone in the Forensics Department must’ve picked up on that.

I finished getting ready in a smart casual denim wrap dress and red flats. I finished my eye routine in the mirror with a touch of liner, batted my eyes, and combed a hand through my long relaxed hair. I looked back at the capable executive/personal assistant of the last six years staring back at me.

I smiled, almost as a reflex. My eyes thinned and sparkled, my cheekbones took center stage, my white smile still perfect and proud from years of braces.

The smile was my usual weapon of choice but I wouldn’t be leaning on it today. I took a breath, careful to keep my face neutral, and began again.

“So, I’ve put this off long enough Jonathan, I have something to tell you, and it can’t wait another day.”

Sounds ominous, imaginary Jonathan said in my head. What is it?

“I’ve been offered another job.”


Why couldn’t my mind conjure up a response?

Instead, I envisioned Jon suddenly in the kitchen, smashing dinnerware. That’s not like him at all, but I envisioned it anyway and it was horrible.

“Shit,” I said to my reflection as I shook my head.

Why was this so scary? Why did I care how he felt about me leaving?

But I knew full well why I cared. We had been working together for six years, a major chunk of my adulthood. Not only was this my longest-lasting job, but I was also his steadiest personal assistant. And assist him I had.

What was supposed to be a temporary gig to hold me over before law school had become a second skin. I’d already outlasted every assistant he’d ever had and with a substantial raise, law school was put on hiatus.

I don’t regret that, but still. A bachelor’s degree in criminology may as well be a GED. It was a miracle that the NYC Forensics department looked past every Juris doctor in the bunch and called me.

I had to take the shot, break out of the cocoon. I’d put in my time, is all. And I was using that fact to steel my spine to tell him what I needed to tell him.

Today, I was going into the office for a little while. Partly to do all the things I can’t take care of from home, but mostly because I knew Jonathan was on a plane and wouldn’t be there.