by Shealy James
The CEO
The Game Changers Series
Book One
Shealy James
The CEO
Copyright © 2015 by Shealy James.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: August 2015
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-252-9
ISBN-10: 1-68058-252-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To Sarah:
I hope you get everything you ever wanted, because anyone with a heart as kind as yours deserves a game changer of her own. Love, laughter, sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies, my friend.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Prologue
“Eve!” His voice boomed through the house as if he were the Great and Powerful Oz. “Eve. Where are you?” I could hear the anger oozing from him but felt nothing. No fear. No regret. No satisfaction. I was completely numb. Once upon a time, the yelling would have frightened me. I would have cowered in response to the threat in his tone. But now, there was nothing.
His stomping up the stairs preceded the bedroom door flying open. My husband found me there in our bedroom, packing my suitcase with clothes that had recently become too loose on my once pudgy body.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I didn’t bother answering him. It was clear what I was doing. Besides, interacting with him would only make this worse. I didn’t even have to look up to know his shirt was wrinkled, his hair was a mess, and his blue eyes were clearer because his cheeks were flushed from the amount of alcohol he consumed. This was all too familiar to me now.
“What the fuck is this?” I still didn’t turn, but I did wonder what he was referring to this time. It could have been anything.
“Eve, what the fuck is this?” He moved around the room as he spoke, and now I could see he was waving a stack of papers around. Ah, the papers were delivered.
“You think you’re divorcing me? You will lose everything if you divorce me. I will find the best lawyer in town, and he will bury your family’s senile attorney in seconds. I hope you don’t think you’re getting the house, Eve. I built this place. It’s mine. You want to leave? Fine. You’re a stupid bitch, anyway. I found girls ten times better than you, and none of them just lie there like you do.”
He thought he was insulting me, but I had heard it all before. I didn’t really even register his words, because I was numb to his voice now. Instead of responding, I zipped up my suitcase and dropped it to the floor. I could get the rest later, or not. Who cared?
Two steps from the door, he grabbed me from behind and pulled me against his much larger body. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and still I felt nothing. “Evie, don’t go.” He only called me Evie when he was trying to be sweet these days. He called me the nickname my family had given me as long as I had known him, but for the past couple of years, it had just been Eve, harsh and to the point.
“I love you. I know things are bad, but we can fix it. We can go to counseling. I could talk to you if we went to see a counselor.”
I still didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t move, didn’t flinch.
“Please, Evie,” he begged, then placed a gentle kiss on my neck. “Please.”
When he realized I still wasn’t responding, he let me go and began his rant over again. “Fuck off, Eve. Good luck in court. You’re going to waste thousands of dollars to get rid of me? I’m going to make your life hell.”
I almost laughed.
Too late.
Chapter 1
“You can do this,” I told myself in the mirror. This morning my brown eyes appeared big and bright, and I complimented myself on my makeup application, light and natural with the exception of my red lips. Somehow, putting on my red lips made me feel complete, and I needed that extra something since I realized just how much I had stopped caring about my looks before. Now I cared and dressed to impress. My grandmother used to always tell me that when she felt down, she only followed one piece of advice—Elizabeth Taylor said to pour a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull it together. My grandmother probably wanted an excuse to drink. I was only going for the lipstick at eight in the morning. To each her own, I guess.
Dressed in my black pencil skirt, a green silk blouse, and my favorite Mary Jane heels, I was ready for my first day on the job. I didn’t know why I thought I could do this event-planning job when I didn’t even plan my own wedding, but there I was. It was a far cry from teaching middle school, which may have been the sole reason I accepted it. My purpose for being there was to change everything about my life, and the job and location were the first step.
I drove the twelve minutes to work because I didn’t want to be lost, sweaty, or late on my first day. It was a warm and sunny day, reminiscent of a pleasant spring day in the south. I had been sure to find an apartment close enough if I ever wanted to walk to work, but I knew that Seattle weather was unpredictable. I could walk to work in a half-hour or so as long as it wasn’t raining, but clear days are supposedly few and far between. I would find out soon enough.
When I parked and checked my makeup and hair one final time, I found I was still fifteen minutes early for my first day. Being early was the only thing that kept my nerves in check. Starting over wasn’t easy. Last year I was trying to poke my head above water, now I was alone in a new city on the opposite side of the country, still trying to finalize my divorce. Divorced. Not single, divorced. Divorced! Well…almost divorced. Separated was really no better. It was the month before I went back to school last year that I filed for divorce. Now, a mere ten months later, I was finally getting my life back together—as together as I could, anyway, when one’s husband was chronically making life as difficult as possible. I was getting away from the darkness and hopefully moving toward some light. Step one was to remove myself from the situation.
I took in my surroundings as I climbed out of my car. The parking deck was nothing impressive, but I did note I was on the second floor so I could find my car easily later. As I navigated my path to the building at the small private college housing my new office or cubicle or desk, I smiled at the manicured lawn, complete with modern benches and a fountain. The trees were immaculately trimmed, and not a single piece of trash or cigarette butt littered the ground. It was picture-perfect.
My sorority sister Tara was always such a great friend that when she heard about my divorce
, she helped me by offering me a job with her. She coordinated the special events at Mitchell College, a small private institution in downtown Seattle. When her Event Manager decided to stay home to raise her baby that was due any day, Tara had an opening at the right time for me to uproot my life. Her loss was my gain, I hoped.
I entered the stone grey building that resembled a church more than an office building and made my way through the lobby up to the second floor. There was no one at the front desk, so I waited in the lobby. When no one showed up ten minutes later, I started to wonder if I was in the right place. My fingernails were just about to enter my mouth for a good chewing when the elevator dinged. Out stepped Tara in a floral dress and her trademark platform high heels. She looked exactly the same, maybe a few years older like me, but this was the same girl I graduated college with eight years ago. She was petite and curvy, but with the help of her shoes, her five-foot-one inch height became a consistent five-foot-five inches. Her small size didn’t detract from her beauty. She had long brown hair with golden highlights and big, bright eyes that drove guys crazy in college.
“Eve! It’s so good to see you.” Tara dropped her bag and files on the reception desk and opened her arms for a hug, which I willingly returned. “I’m so glad you’re finally here. Sorry about the lack of reception. Our student worker has class in the morning, so she doesn’t come in until ten on Mondays.”
“It’s fine. I’m happy to be here. You look great.”
“Thanks, hun. I quit drinking so much beer. I would look like I was a hundred if I had kept that up.” She laughed cheerfully. “You aren’t so bad yourself. I expected you to be starving yourself and crying your eyes out, but not our Eve. Same ol’ hot tamale!” I smiled, despite how close she was to speaking the truth. Fortunately, I had moved past that stage months ago with the help of my family.
“I passed the wanting to jump off a bridge stage the day I filed for divorced. I couldn’t be happier now.” It was an almost truth. I would be happier if I was actually divorced. I would be happier if I had never married such an asshole, but that wasn’t what your friend wanted to hear after helping you find a job, so the almost truth was better than the truth in this case.
“Well, I’m so excited to have you here. You’ll love this job. It’s just the two of us working full-time, so it can be a lot of work, but I’ve met so many great people. Seattle will feel like home in no time.” She picked up everything she had set down on the reception desk and nodded her head toward a set of double doors. “Follow me. I’ll show you the digs.”
She led me down a hallway decorated with generic paintings with three doors on either side. “This office area was originally for administration, but they grew out of it, so here we are.” We then peeked in the second door on the left. It was a simple office with a desk and two chairs in front of it. Behind the desk was a large window that overlooked the grassy quad of the small urban campus. On the desk sat a relatively new desktop computer and a black phone. I wrinkled my nose. Technology and I were permanently at odds with each other.
Tara waved her free hand around before stepping back in the hallway. “This will be your office, but follow me back to mine for a few. I want to catch up now that I have you here.”
I followed her to the end of the hall into her larger corner office. Her office was at least double the size of mine, which made sense since she was the director. A small conference table was in the corner by the window, with three chairs, and piles of boxes covering the table. She nodded toward the table. “That’ll be one of our first assignments once you get settled. They are invitations to the anniversary party next month.” I nodded. I can do invitations. No problem.
She sat behind her desk and gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs on the other side of it. “So, did you get moved into your new apartment? I hope you found something good. This city has some doozies.”
“Yes, I found one in Capitol Hill like you suggested. My mom drove out here with me and helped me get everything in and decorated. You know she had those curtains hung and the kitchen unpacked before I drove her to the airport.”
“I bet Ellen wasn’t thrilled with you moving out here. How many times did she try to get you to change your mind?”
“Once the U-Haul was packed, she gave it a rest. I don’t think she wanted to have to help unpack it. She and Dad are being very understanding considering the situation. They surprisingly encouraged me to come out here once I told them I would be working with you. It was just the week before I left when my mom started coming up with alternatives to me moving across the country, but I’m not the one with four kids, so she’ll be all right.”
“Jane has four kids? Whew! Does she work?”
“Yeah. Her husband is a corporate lawyer, and she does something in finance, so they have enough money to send their kids to the best private pre-schools and elementary schools. She also has a nanny in the afternoons and my parents on the weekend. Enough about them. Tell me about you. I don’t get on Facebook anymore, so I’ve had to keep up with everyone through the old-school gossip mill.”
“After college, it was either find a job or move back to Birmingham and live with Mama and Daddy until I got married.” She grimaced. Her parents were very traditional, and the Tara I knew was a wild party girl. I couldn’t imagine her mama and daddy would like that. “I took the first job I found in my field, which happened to be all the way out here with these outdoorsy health nuts. The city has grown on me though, and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else unless it was sunny and seventy-five degrees every day.”
“You’re doing well for yourself. I can see why you like it. Now, tell me everything I need to know. This is a far cry from teaching, so I want to make sure I learn everything I can from you.” I tried to appear enthusiastic, but I think my high-pitched excitement probably gave away how nervous I was about the job.
“Your job is a lot like when you were our rush chairwoman, which is exactly why you were the woman for the job. You have to secure vendors and schedule volunteers all within a budget, a big budget. You’re going to keep our online calendar and do some advertising through email and social media. We primarily conduct events for the alumni, but we also handle building dedications, community outreach, lecture series, and stuff like that. Sabrina already handled our lecture series for the summer, which occurs every Wednesday evening at seven. You will need to attend with me, so I can show you what we do for the reception. Once you get the hang of it, I’ll have you take over because I have other meetings on Wednesdays with the college administration.”
“Sounds good. I can handle that, and I have already looked at the calendar and files you sent me regarding the upcoming events.”
“Good. It sounds like you have an idea of what we are up to. Next Friday the alumni association is hosting a cocktail event at Bistro 79. You’re coming as my plus one. We technically don’t run the events, but our presence helps us get to know who we are serving and gives us contact with the key players. Our goal is to keep them happy so they keep donating to the university. You know the drill.”
I typed what she was telling me into the calendar on my phone. “Sounds good to me.”
She clapped excitedly. “Do we need to buy you a dress?”
“My mother made sure I packed every stitch of clothing I own. She wants to turn my bedroom into a craft room. She’s into monogramming for the grandkids on her new embroidery machine.” I grinned knowing she would be able to picture my mother, considering she spent every year at rush in our sorority house with me. Every girl in my pledge class was well acquainted with Mrs. Ellen Barton Bryant.
“Just checking. I didn’t know if Mark ever took you anywhere where you would need a dress. He was such a classy guy.” Like many of my friends, Mark did not rank high on her list of likable people. My friends just never thought he was good enough for me, and, at the time, I thought they were being sweet. I truly believed they would have thought that no matter who I dated, but now I realized that proba
bly wasn’t the case.
I laughed. “Other than friends’ weddings, definitely not, but that doesn’t mean Mom and Dad didn’t. And do you know how many weddings I have been to in the past five years for high school friends? He insisted we go to every wedding for ‘the free booze.’ If I never see another sparkly white ball gown or hot pink bridesmaid’s dress, I’ll be a happy girl.”
“You’d think our sorority sisters had you sick of weddings, but it was the high school friends who did you in, huh? Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I already planned to elope. Mama and Daddy want me to get married in their Southern Baptist church that holds three thousand people, and they want to invite everyone they know to fill the balcony. No way in hell I’m doing that. I think my parents want to outdo William and Kate, southern style. Can you imagine?” She laughed at the outlandish thought while I realized I felt like I might have just found my way back into my own skin.
Chapter 2
My life in numbers:
12. The number of days I have lived in Seattle.
11. The number of times my mother has called since she left Seattle.
10. The number of months Mark has refused to sign the divorce papers.
9. The number of days I have been completely on my own…ever.
8. The number of days I have worked at Mitchell College.
7. The number of times my best friend has asked if I met any “hot men.”
6. The number of new people I have met and remembered their names.
5. The number of minutes it took me to put on my makeup this morning.
4. The number of days it has rained since I have been here.
3. The number of glasses of wine I had at dinner last night with Tara.