The CEO Page 4

  *****

  She takes a quick nap, has a hot shower, and eats a delicious dinner of jambalaya, collard greens, and cornbread. Alone in her quiet hotel room—the Bill Clinton Room at the Presidents’ Quarters Inn in the historic district—Nora sprays her body with a floral mist and steps into her black sleeveless satin flare dress.

  Standing before the antique mirror that swivels up on a cherry wooden frame, Nora likes the way the belt defines her waist. She turns and takes in her reflection and admires the way the dress falls.

  Her heart flutters at the thought of seeing Sebastian. She walks around the bed and turns on end-table lamps. She likes to walk into a brightly lit room.

  Leaving the room with black designer clutch in hand, Nora hopes the carefree Sebastian who pretended to be a chauffeur will greet her and not the cold CEO who demands loyalty over everything.

  *****

  Nora’s black car pulls up to a storybook yellow house with white and green shutters that looks like the gingerbread house in fairytales. The driver—a real driver— gets out to open the back door for her. Gingerly, she steps out into the chilly March twilight. The sun is just beginning to set. Nora isn’t wearing a jacket. She assumed the door-to-door trip would cushion her from the cold. Who knew Savannah cooled down so much at night?

  Briskly, she crosses the gray sidewalk in her red-bottom high heels. The click-clack sound of her heels and those of other women’s walking up to the house behind her fill the quiet late winter air. Taking the black train of her dress in her right hand and holding onto the white banister with her left, Nora climbs the seven steps to the porch. She nearly trips on the top step. A kind woman behind her catches her and asks if she’s alright. Nora nods and thanks her. She’s not accustomed to wearing high heels. To calm her nerves and dispel her embarrassment, she inhales the scent of an outdoor fire, pine trees, and evergreens. Leafless weeping willows line the Savannah grid of perpendicular streets. As breathtaking.

  A young blond woman opens the front door. Dressed in a white collared shirt with a black bow tie, black pants, black sneakers, and a long red apron tied around her waist, she presents a sizeable round silver tray with a variety of masks. Some have colorful feathers. Some have solid colored sequins. Some wrap around the face with rubber bands. Some are attached to long black sticks. Nora selects a sequined black mask with an adjustable black cord. She puts it on and meanders through the mansion.

  She eases through the crowded hallways and ballrooms of men in tuxedos and woman in varying lengths of black dresses. She’s relieved that she’s wearing black too. Passing by a floor-length window, she stops to take in the sunset. The once blue sky is streaked with reds, oranges, and purples.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” the familiar voice says on her right.

  Nora turns to take in the tall, blond man. She doesn’t know what to make of him.

  “Why did you personally deliver the interview invitation?” She admires his metallic mask with intricate etched markings.

  “Why do you think?” Sebastian likes talking to Nora. He likes that she wants nothing from him. He likes the lightness of their interactions.

  “Because you wanted to see how I reacted. How I treat staff.”

  “Sure.” He’s unable to hide his amusement.

  “But that’s not the full reason.” Nora tilts her head to the left and adds, “Let me guess. You’re a bored billionaire who misses the thrill of the climb and the safety of anonymity. So you played messenger and driver for a day. Am I close?”

  Nora went to school with so many rich boys—so many bored rich boys. They all thought they were the only ones who got tired of their wealth. Tired of the ease—the lack of a challenge—that their wealth brought. They wanted to chase, to climb, to conquer. Nora knew the only way to get a bored rich boy was to never give it up. This never worked for her, because she wanted to give it up. As a result, she dated three legacies in undergrad before she dated Rex who was not old money, but new money—so not spoiled from yachting, skiing, or globetrotting...when she met him...but in grad school...he changed...

  Looking at Sebastian, Nora feels the same disappointment she felt growing up when her mother cooked chicken for dinner every night. After the incident, her mom decided to take cooking classes and to cook the nightly family dinner. She left breakfast and lunch to their chef. Nora can still hear her mom saying, “A family that eats together, keeps together.” Nora tried to tell her that that wasn’t how the saying goes, but her mom would wave her hand in the air and dismiss Nora. She always felt an undercurrent of fear from her mom that Nora would succumb to Jason’s fate. But she would never. As much as she loves her solitude, she also loves her friends. She prefers small parties to large ones. She’s not a bar-hopper, but she’ll go to the occasional dinner party.

  She feels herself growing weary of this blond Adonis standing beside her. A bored billionaire is the last man she wants to get involved with. Hot or not.

  Sebastian regards Nora silently. He’s overcome by her directness and honesty.

  Yes, he misses anonymity. He misses walking through a city and no one doing a double take or stopping him to ask for a job or for advice or for a picture.

  Yes, he misses the thrill of the chase. Who doesn’t? He’s tired of the predictable days occupied with office meetings and phone conferences. He’s restless. He wants to get out, travel, find new deals, meet new people.

  Sebastian didn’t expect Nora to be so attractive. Her face is the definition of sweetness. Her wavy hair calls to his fingers. As a matter of fact, her long black dress, as modest as it is, calls to his hands to explore the layers. He wants to know what’s underneath Nora’s cool exterior. Where’s the lighthearted Nora who giggled in the chopper?

  Realizing he’s thinking about his new head legal counsel in ways that could align with sexual harassment, if he were to act on those thoughts, Sebastian dismisses the errant thoughts.

  Aware that they’ve been looking into each other’s eyes silently for longer than a socially acceptable pause in a conversation, Sebastian clears his throat and says:

  “Are you always this direct?”

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  Sebastian feels himself enjoying the back and forth banter with Nora way more than he should. He wants it to continue. He likes looking into her large dark brown eyes, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume. He imagines her skin is soft to the touch.

  “I’m not used to answering to anyone,” Sebastian murmurs.

  Nora raises her eyebrows. She wonders if this is an admission. Did he just allude to the fact that he’s single? Or is he still talking about work? Carefully, she considers what to ask him next. She doesn’t want to overstep the lines of professionalism. Even though they’re at a party, she’s well aware that this is still a work setting and she must behave appropriately.

  “Not even to your legal counsel?”

  He laughs. Seeing him press a hand to his white shirt, Nora imagines that hand resting on the small of her back. She stands up straighter to resume a work posture. Sebastian glances down to her modest breasts completely covered in black satin. He looks shyly at her and Nora is struck by how he goes from distant CEO to charming bachelor so quickly.

  “Nora, as my new legal counsel, there is something I’d like to ask you.”

  “Yes?” She angles her body to mirror his.

  “There are some companies that I’m considering acquiring. I want you to check them out with me. Come along and give me your opinion.”

  “Sure, where and when?”

  His blue eyes regard her shrewdly.

  “Spain. Tomorrow.”

  “What?” Nora has been waiting years for an invitation to work abroad. She just didn’t think it would come on the first day of her new job.

  “I’ll fly you back to Atlanta so that you can pack.”

  “When?” Startled by the sudden international trip and annoyed by his commanding tone, Nora wonders why everythin
g is happening so quickly.

  “Tonight.”

  “What’s the rush?”

  Sebastian’s eyes dart around the room.

  “Come with me.” He nods towards the blond hardwood staircase leading upstairs.

  Her stomach tightens at the thought of being alone in a room with him. She doesn’t want to hesitate and appear suspicious of his intentions. She wants to be the team player that her former firm said she wasn’t. Even though she was. She trained all of the new associates. She just didn’t go to happy hours or drinking events with her colleagues after twelve-hour work days, because she stopped drinking to get drunk when she graduated from college, and she doesn’t enjoy being around drunk people when sober.

  Apprehensive and trying not to show it, Nora climbs the staircase behind Sebastian’s firm ass. She blushes when she realizes that she’s been watching the way his muscles moved beneath the black material of his tuxedo. He’s in amazing shape. He probably has a personal trainer and a chef and a masseuse.

  Nora sighs.

  She should not be staring at her bosses’ butt.

  She should not be thinking about her boss naked and how his abs and pecks would feel pressed against her breasts.

  She should not be wanting to wrap her arms around him and kiss him as if it’s her first kiss. It may as well be, she jokes to herself. She hasn’t wanted to kiss a man in years. She prefers not to think about exactly how long it’s been. It makes her feel bad, sad, ridiculous. What twenty-six-year-old doesn’t hook up with hot guys at bars or clubs or company parties? Why can’t she just let loose? Why must she have an actual emotional connection with a guy in order to be intimate with him?

  Nora wishes she got the Arabella Wilder genes. The Wilder genes let Arabella hook up freely. She dated who she wanted. Had sex with whomever she wanted. Never looks back that is until she found the love of her life. Nora feels the pillar of salt she’s slowly turning into every time she looks back at her past relationships. She must stop remembering Rex. He’s her ex. It’s over. She must move on.

  Maybe she should take up Arabella’s advice from three years ago:

  “Nora,” Arabella put down her champagne glass at Nora’s law school graduation party at the trendy downtown rooftop bar and touched her friend’s shoulder, “the only way to get over your ex, is to get under the next.”

  This made Nora crack up.

  “I’m serious.” Arabella frowned causing lines to crease her forehead. “Forget about Rex. Find the next great love...great lay...of your life. Whichever. No judgment. Just do you. Be happy. No regrets.”

  “But what if I fall in love—”

  “Or lust.”

  “—and he dumps me again?”

  “Then you play Sarah Vaughan’s Thanks for the Memories, cry, buy a pint of ice cream—”

  “Cookies and cream.”

  “—and watch Dirty Dancing until you feel like you’re Baby and your Patrick Swayze is a right swipe away.”

  Nora smiles at the memory.

  She misses Arabella’s reality checks. She misses Audrey’s romantic musings. She misses Sasha’s quirky support.

  Nora misses her mom and dad.

  She wants to call them and tell them about her new job. Head legal counsel is impressive. Should be celebrated. But she’s afraid that her mom will quietly congratulate her so as not to upset her dad who will openly berate Nora for continuing to support “those money-sucking parasites.” Then, depending on whether he’s had three or four bourbons, he may threaten to disinherit her...again.

  She thinks about the inheritance money her dad will probably reallocate to a charity or to another cause worthier of his money than his wayward daughter.

  She has heard him call attorneys scumbags. He has one that he has trusted his whole life, the rest are all crooks in his mind. When Nora applied to only Ivy League law schools after graduating from the Ivy League college where both her dad and granddad had gone, her dad threatened to disinherit her. And when Nora matriculated to and graduated from, arguably, the best law school in the U.S., her dad vowed to disinherit her, again. She hasn’t spoken to him in three years. Her mom updates her on his comings and goings and health.

  Nora would love to reconnect with her dad, but she doesn’t want to be the one to reach out first. Why should she, when he was the one who stopped speaking to her first? He’s the parent. Shouldn’t he extend the olive branch first?

  She sighs.

  Sebastian rounds the next flight of stairs.

  “How much higher?”

  He looks back over his shoulder. He looks bemused by my question.

  “Why?”

  “This house reminds me of fairy tales, lost little girls, and wolves dressed in sheep’s wool.”

  “Wasn’t it a wolf in grandma’s dress?” Sebastian’s lips move into a half smile.

  “A wolf is a wolf is a wolf.” Nora decides that two can play this game. If he wants to avoid answering her questions, then she can speak in riddles.

  “Isn’t it a rose is a rose is a rose?” His eyes twinkle. He’s climbing the steps while looking back at her. His hand holding the wooden banister, guiding him.

  “Shouldn’t you watch where you’re going?”

  “Afraid I’ll bump my head?”

  She shakes her head. At a loss of words. Nora is distracted by Sebastian’s pink lips, blue eyes, and the look that says you-know-you-like-this-game-we’re-playing. Except, she doesn’t exactly know what game they’re playing.

  Are they playing the game I-like-you-but-I-can’t-like-you-so-let’s-just-flirt-and-be-friendly?

  Are they playing the game I-know-you-want-me-but-it’s-never-gonna-happen?

  Or are they playing the waiting game?

  Waiting until one of them gives in to her or his desires and kisses the other.

  Waiting until Nora moves on to another job.

  Except, why would she leave a brand-new job where she’s getting everything she wants? A promotion in title, a raise, and international business trips! She can’t wait to go back to her hotel room and scream and jump for joy. She can’t wait to tell her girls about the trip to Spain. They’ll be so happy for her.

  Sebastian stops on the top floor, reaches up, grabs a string hanging down, pulls it down, and a ladder drops down.

  “Where are we going?” She tries not to frown at the idea of climbing up into an attic in an old house. Not that she believes in ghosts. She just doesn’t want to get dusty.

  “Somewhere we can talk in private.” He gestures for her to go first.

  She raises her eyebrows at him.

  “Ladies first.” He grins. The youthful Sebastian returns. The Sebastian who flew the helicopter is back. His smile is inviting, beguiling. Nora wants to trust this Sebastian. She wants to hang out with this Sebastian; explore ancient European cathedrals with this Sebastian; get lost in the old Gothic Quarter of Barcelona with this Sebastian.

  “Thanks. But I’ll follow your lead.”

  “I’ll remember that.” His youthful spirit shines through his smile. He turns, grabs the rungs, and climbs into the attic.

  Nora assumes that they’re climbing into an attic. She can’t tell what’s up there. It’s dark. She’s apprehensive. She’s curious.

  But she remembers Arabella’s advice three years ago. And she thinks that maybe she can allow herself to have a secret crush on Sebastian. She can pretend that he’s still a mysterious driver or a hot pilot. She’ll pretend he pursues her and she refuses, because how could the heiress of a billion-dollar fortune—that she probably won’t even inherit at this point—seriously date a non-billionaire?

  Ignore the fact that Sebastian is a billionaire. Ignore the fact that Sebastian flirted with her first. Ignore the fact that Sebastian is dangerously sexy. Ignore all this, Nora tells herself. She has a job to do. And apparently blind trust comes with the job. She isn’t comfortable with this. But her desire for adventure tells her to follow him up the staircase and into the proverbial rabb
it hole.

  “Come on.” Sebastian’s voice is filled with humor. His blue eyes twinkle like the Cheshire cat’s. What secret is Sebastian hiding that’s got him grinning like that?

  Gripping the steel cylinders on the ladder, Nora pulls herself up. The balls of her feet balance on the bottom rung. Her high heels don’t seem like such a good idea right now. Ladder-climbing wasn’t on her list of things to do at a masquerade ball.

  “Don’t be scared,” Sebastian says.

  “I’m not scared. I’m not exactly dressed for this.” She reacts to the taunt like a teenager would: she resolves to show him that she’s not scared. Quickly she climbs the ladder. As she approaches Sebastian’s tousled curly blond hair and metallic mask, she asks herself what exactly is she doing here?

  Her hand closes on the top rung. He holds out his hand. She takes it. Electricity shoots through her. They freeze. Is it static electricity? They stare into each other’s eyes. Nora wants to feel the warmth of his body all over hers. He clears his throat. He appears surprised. Caught off guard. Then his eyes become a blank slate.

  “Come on.” He pulls Nora up into the darkness.

  “Where?” She stands up in the dark room.

  “Excuse me.” He gestures for her to step away from the entry.

  She moves a few inches from the ladder. He bends down, pulls the ladder up by a rope, then closes the hatch, and turns a lock. It clicks. They’re locked inside.

  “What are we doing here?” She’s careful to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

  “Going somewhere we can speak privately.” He steps towards her and clears his throat. “Right this way.”

  Gently, he takes her hand. The unexpected tenderness stuns her. She knows she shouldn’t be holding the CEO’s hands. She knows she should take her hand back. But she likes holding his hand. She hasn’t held a man’s hand in three years. She wants to hold his.

  “It’s dark in here. I’ll guide you to the door.” Sebastian walks carefully.

  For a moment, Nora pretends they’re on a date. She pretends it’s a year into the future, she’s moved on to business consulting, he’s taken her to dinner in Mozambique, he’s proposed to her in Martinique, and he’s leading her to a surprise engagement party where all of her friends are waiting on the other side of the door. Nora can almost smell the barbecue, taste the moist pound cake, feel the champagne tickling her throat. She smiles in the dark. Glad that Sebastian can’t see her silly smile. She would be mortified.