Unlocking my Boss’s Heart (Romance in Sweet Comedy #4)

28. Anton

Chapter twenty-eight

Anton

A fter dropping Celia off at her apartment, I didn’t stay long. She wanted to wash up and rest, and she asked that we meet later. Instead of heading home and catching up on work, I found myself driving out to my parents’ place. My mother was in the kitchen, making one of her veggies shakes that looked like pond scum.

She waved me over. “Want some?”

“Ahh, no, thank you,” I said slowly.

She shrugged and smiled. “They were good for you when you were growing up, look how handsome you turned out.” She took a good look at me. “You're here in the middle of the day on a Tuesday?”

“I just dropped Celia at her place. She’s over the worst of it, per the doctor.”

“Glad to hear that. I like her.”

My father entered, holding up his hand in greeting, “Hey, son.” He glanced at my mother, then back at me. “Is everything okay?”

“I was just wondering the same thing,” my mother replied and waved us out of the kitchen. “Let’s go to the living room, it’s more comfortable.”

“Your mother’s been fussing over me all day. Glad you’re here to take some of the brunt,” my father teased as we walked.

“I heard that.” Mother called out, making my father chuckle.

Once we were settled in the living room, my mother turned to me. “So, what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

I leaned forward, propping my forearms on my thighs. This was going to be a hard conversation, but I’d put it off for far too long.

“I want to talk about marriage. Your marriage, in particular.”

They both looked surprised, their brows furrowed in unison.

“Our marriage?” my father echoed.

“Yes.” I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. “I’ve never had the courage to talk to you about this, but the reason I’ve had trouble committing to a relationship is because of what I saw growing up. I was terrified by your arguments, and later the fear of you separating added on. I never wanted to end up in a marriage like that.”

They both remained silent, clearly not expecting that. My mother’s face softened, her expression shifting from surprised to sorrow. She reached for my father’s hand, her fingers trembling slightly as they intertwined with his.

“Darling, that was a long time ago,” she said, regret sounding in her voice. “I didn’t think you remembered any of that.”

“I do.” I replied, voice thick with emotions. “I remember it all the way back when I was eight or nine, hearing you guys argue late at night.” The memories flooding back, raw and vivid.

“We never meant for you to hear any of that—” my father started.

“But I did,” the words came out harsher than I intended. “I’ve held back for decades, but this time, I have to get this off my chest. I grew up terrified that I would end up in the same loveless, miserable marriage. And I knew I just couldn’t do it. Being alone is preferable to living with a woman I hated.”

Tears welled in my mother’s eyes, she squeezed my father’s hand.

“Son,” my father began softly, “our marriage might have started off that way, but that’s not the end of the story. We both had a part to play. I ignored your mother for the first ten years, really. I was so busy trying to build my company. But I realized that she was the most important thing in my life. And my boys. If I gained the whole world and lost my family, what was it worth? Nothing.”

My mother nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We were practically children when we got married, Anton. You have to understand that. We had no idea how to fight in a healthy way. And I’m so sorry that left such a bad impression on you. Can you ever forgive us?” Her voice cracked.

I hadn’t been expecting that. I'd just yelled at them and basically told them what a rotten example they had been. I swallowed hard, my throat tightening with emotion.

“I—” I started, but the words caught in my throat. Something broke inside me after years of resentment and fear that I would end up the same way. My shoulders slumped, the weight of my long-held fears finally beginning to lift.

“Marriage is hard, Anton. I won’t lie to you,” my mother continued, her voice filled with years of wisdom. “But you have to choose every day to get up and love the person you’re with. Your father and I didn't divorce because we started to appreciate each other. And that appreciation slowly turned to love.” She reached over and patted my hand. “I think you and Celia have a chance to build something beautiful. But you’ve got to let go of the past and take a risk. Love is a risk, but it’s the best decision you’ll ever make.”

I squeezed her hand in return. For the first time in years, I felt a sense of clarity. “I wish I’d had this conversation with you sooner. I never knew how to broach the subject.”

My father nodded, his gaze serious. “Now, the question is: Will you finally commit to someone, or are you going to keep going the way you have been the last few years?”

The truth was, I’d been hiding behind my fears for so long, that now faced with the possibility of something real with Celia, I was unprepared. But her words echoed in my mind: We'll figure it out together .

On Celia’s first day back at work after her hospitalization, she came into my office.

I glanced up from my computer screen, my grin instantaneous. “Hey, you. How are you feeling?” I got up and went to meet her midway to my desk and gave her a peck on her mouth.

“Never been better. That EpiPen did the trick,” she made light of the situation, smiling. “And how are you?”

“Wonderful, now that you’re here.”

She held the foil-wrapped bundle in her hands up for me to see. “Maddison baked chocolate chip cookies last night for my first day back to work. I must warn you, just one bite will make you fall in love.”

My eyebrow shot up at that. “With her, or you?”

“Hopefully, me. I bribed her into giving me the recipe.”

She walked past me and set it on my desk. Then, she leaned her backside against the desk. I had to force myself to focus on her rather than the many sensuous activities we could engage in on the desk.

She had a serious look on. “The cookies aren’t the only reason I came to see you.” I stilled. “Mei Shau and her lawyer have agreed to a meeting to talk about her case.”

I sat back in my chair. “You’re not serious!”

“I am. I was able to reach her lawyer, we had a lengthy discussion over the phone.”

“When is the meeting?”

“It’ll be over video. A little unusual to discuss a case over video, but it’s possible. I’ll record it.”

My head was reeling. This would be the first meeting between the plaintiff, Mei Shau, and the defendant, Julius and Faber Publishing House, which we were representing.

“Mei Shau and her lawyer are physically in Japan,” Celia continued. “I’ll call the representative of Julius and Faber Publishing House to come here for the meeting.”

“It’ll be the first case over video of this firm. I prefer face-to-face,” I responded.

“Just the preliminaries. They asked for a video meeting to put the case in motion. They plan to travel to the US if necessary.”

A surge of pride burst through me. Celia managed to do what others couldn’t, bridging the gap between continents and navigating a complex legal case with finesse. It was clear she wasn’t just capable—she was exceptional. And as much as the thought of commitment was still taking root in me, the idea of building something meaningful with someone as remarkable as her felt like a risk worth taking.

The following week, Mei Shau and her lawyer agreed to a settlement during the video meeting. Celia and I sat in my office and reflected on the meeting afterward.

“I believe her,” Celia said. “Aiko Osaka stole her story. He took advantage of the fact that her story wasn’t copyrighted when she asked for help. He knew a lawsuit wouldn’t fall under copyright infringement. I would’ve liked to defend her as a client.” She took a deep breath. “Fortunately, after our explanation, she and her team understood how hopeless the case would be if she continued with the lawsuit.”

“Good for Aiko Osaka’s publisher for agreeing to send a public apology in the New York Times . Because Osaka himself would never do that,” I added.

“Yeah, the public apology will give Mei some closure.”

I chuckled, falling back into my seat. “So, it’s done.”

She grinned. “It is. I feel accomplished after my first legal case at your firm.”

I shook my head, amazed at how impressive this woman in front of me was. She was the true winner in this case. She’d found all the pieces and put them together.

The firm was on retainer with Julius and Faber Publishing House, so we would get paid the same amount whether they went to court or managed to get Mei Shau to settle. In other words, Celia had helped the firm bring in a lot of money and saved us time.

“I owe you a nice dinner.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise,” she said with a smile.

After that meeting, I was on a high—one less case on my docket to worry about, as I was supposed to “supervise” Celia’s work. Mei Shau was pleased, and so were Julius and Faber Publishing House. It was a win-win situation. And my relationship with Celia was never better.

My happiness would have lasted all day if I hadn’t overheard bits of a conversation with Celia’s name while walking past the small conference room on my way back to my office.

“…and you’re telling me she’s capable of reaching Mei Shau’s lawyer after others failed to do so for months? Doesn’t it smell fishy to you?”

I sighed, stepping into the conference room. Two women were talking as they cleaned up papers from a recent staff meeting.

“What does? The fact that a skilled lawyer did her job, or that you’re spraying untrue statements about your colleague when you could be learning a thing or two?”

Their eyes widened in shock at being caught by the boss.

I knew these women: Rachael Curb and Winnie Harris. They were likely the same ones Celia had mentioned when she first started at the firm. After experiencing this first-hand, I realized how right Celia was to be concerned about an unhealthy work environment if it became known that we were dating.

I was annoyed, but I knew if I wrote a suspension letter, they would claim to be the victims of favoritism. Furthermore, I would be acting in anger.

“You work in Human Resources. So, you should know appropriate workplace conduct better than anyone else. Our firm will not tolerate a toxic working environment.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

As I walked away, I felt a little better, but deep down, I knew there was something I still had to do.