The link took him to a job posting for an executive assistant to the CEO of Westlake Waterless Printing, Greta Westlake. Which meant that his mother had lost yet another EA. That made, what?—three?in the past year, if the information he got from his dad was correct. It wasn’t at all surprising that nobody wanted to work for his mother. She was a difficult, unforgiving, ruthless woman who took no excuses and expected two hundred and fifty percent. She’d once fired an account manager who’d asked for a day off to grieve her recently deceased dog. And she’d fired a guy in accounting because he’d had the gall to ask for a week’s vacation that coincided with the company’s busy fall season. She got away with it because she had an excellent team of lawyers at her back.

And she wondered why Mitch didn’t want to work for the family business. Yes, please. Sign me up for that bullshit.

Not in this lifetime.

Mitch poured maple syrup into the blender, secured the lid, and turned the machine on. The obnoxious whirring broke the quiet morning and made Mitch wince. While his smoothie blended, he stuck a couple slices of bread into the toaster. By the time he was finished pouring the smoothie into two to-go cups, the toast was done. He spread Cheese Whiz on each slice, slid one onto a plate, and set it and a smoothie on the living room table for Cody.

Thanks,” Cody said, on his back with his legs tucked into his chest.


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