by Alexa Davis
“You’re Saint Freaking Nikolai,” she says, “but this deal screws you.”
“Hey, I’ll still be a millionaire,” I tell her. “Maybe I’ll open the feed from ‘Seriously, They’re Letting Me Name My Own Satellite’—obviously a terrible mistake, granted—to the public. Sure, not everyone has digital floors, but I bet it would make a nice screensaver.”
“You know,” she says, “if you’re experiencing delusions, we can probably turn this whole thing around with the sympathy investment.”
I smile and chuckle. I even put my arm around Marly, who’s been such a good evil confidant over so many years. “There really isn’t a bottom for you, is there?” I ask.
“I just calls ‘em as I sees ‘em,” she says, cracking a smile. “You really want to do this?” she asks. “After this, you won’t have any sway over what the board or the next CEO does. You can probably lobby them, but they’re going to do what they’re going to do.”
“Without this deal, the people who helped build this company and keep it going get nothing,” I tell her. “I’m going to be rich the rest of my life. This is the least I can do.”
“Do you really want firing me to be your last act as CEO before you sign this thing?” she asks, her voice softening to a tone I’ve never heard before.
“I’ll hire you back, but I’m going to need a drink after this,” I tell her. “Have one waiting for me in my office when I get done.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she says and, though hesitant, she hands me the paperwork. “Do you want something easy to help you relax or do you want them carrying you out of here with your head in a bucket while you yell incoherently about the government?”
I cock my head at her.
“Mom was a drinker,” she says.
“I’d like to be able to walk, but apart from that, I say go crazy,” I answer.
Marly smiles and we part ways, possibly for the last time. We have a lot of history, but she’s not the type to call to grab a drink. She’s been with me and the company almost from the start and I don’t even know if she lives in the city or if she commutes.
This is a difficult decision, but I knew there was a possibility I’d have to make it eventually. I was just hoping that Jacque might actually deign to answer the door or the phone or call back for once in his life. He meant what he said, though. When he was done, he was done.
I walk into the board room and I have Mason Handler witness as I sign my portions of the document. From there, I slide it over to him and tell the board, “I’ll need the rest of the day to clear out my office.”
The sadists actually applaud as I leave the room.
When Marly asked if I was doing this because of Ellie, I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell the whole truth, either. I’m not sure what the future holds for Ellie and me, but I do know if I’m ever going to find that sweet person again, I have to be done.
It’s true that the company’s going under if I stay in as CEO: The board and their proxies did a great job painting me as the culprit. I got the least that I wanted out of the deal, but at least it’s something. They never would have agreed if I’d pushed too hard to select my own replacement.
The truth is, though, this whole life I built, I built around her. I’ve come to appreciate and respect my people, but there’s no need for me to fight it. It probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
I get in front of my office and Nolan stands, saying, “Sir, I just want to tell you, I heard what you did, and I wanted to thank you.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Hey, I’m going to be taking care of some final things in my office for a little while. Would you hold my calls and just make sure I’m not disturbed?”
“Of course, sir,” he says. “Sir, do you know what you’ll be doing after this?”
I chuckle. “I’ll probably live out my days watching CNBC and raving about how once, way back in the day, I used to run things,” I answer. “I think I’m done with the corporate world,” I tell him.
“One more thing,” he says as I’m opening the door to my office. “There’s someone in your office.”
I’m expecting Marly, either still fixing my drink or working on one of her own, but it’s not her.
Ellie’s sitting in my office chair, holding an overfilled tumbler of scotch, sipping just enough off the top that it doesn’t spill.
“Ellie,” I say, “What are you doing here?”
“Naomi told me,” she answers, smiling. “She told me about the ring.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Reality’s for Suckers
Ellie
My throat’s still burning a little from skimming off the top of Nick’s scotch, but it’s hardly taking my mind off of the gallon of adrenaline running through me.
“How does she know about the ring?” he asks.
“It’s Naomi,” I answer. “She doesn’t do well with personal boundaries. I don’t know when you bought it, or even if you were still planning on giving it to me someday, but it made me realize something.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“First off, I’m nowhere near ready to marry you,” I say. “I mean, we’re talking not even a little bit.”
He forces a smile. “Thanks for coming all the way here to let me know that,” he says. “My day’s just getting better.”
“Calm down, testy,” I respond. “It also made me realize that this whole time I’ve been looking at you as the billionaire businessman. At first, I didn’t want to get involved with you because of it, and then I tried to bury myself in that world, but I never thought of you as just a guy.”
I hold out the scotch and he takes it from my hand.
“You may already know this, but I wasn’t asleep that night,” I tell him. “I didn’t remember you at first. You’ve changed so much.”
He takes a sip of his scotch and sets it on the desk. His voice is raspy as he says, “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Here’s what I’d like to do,” I tell him. “I’d like to stop with all the back and forth. If we’re going to do this thing, we’re going to need to be in the same place. I know you’re still a little wary I’m going to go all socialite moron on you again. Maybe I will, who knows? Being with you is going to take some getting used to, there’s no doubt about that. When I realized I’m nowhere near ready to marry you, though, I also realized something else.”
“That is?” he asks.
“I’m ready to start down that path and see where it leads,” I tell him. “No more nonsense. No more thinking of you as the billionaire guy, but actually getting to know all of you, not just what I can read in the papers.”
“I’d like that,” he says.
“Can I see it, though?” I ask. “Not now, but whenever you’re done here for the day, can I take a look at it?” I know it’s silly and maybe a bit misleading, but I’m curious.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “You can see it. You know,” he says, walking around the desk to me, “I bought that when I made my first million. No, I didn’t expect you’d be ready for something like that yet. The reality is, I’m not ready for it, either. We still have a lot to learn about each other,” he says and holds his hand out to me.
I take his hand and rise to my feet. “Yeah, like what happened with the glasses?” I ask. “Did you do the laser surgery thing or is there some kind of medication that’s only made available to the ridiculously wealthy?”
“You have a way of making me forget what I’m talking about, Ellie Michaels,” he says, kissing me on the cheek, then on the lips. He smiles. “It’s a problem.”
I snort with laughter.
“You know,” he says, looking back toward the office door, “my assistant’s already holding my calls.”
“Yeah?” I ask, kissing him.
“Appointments, too,” he says as I loosen his tie. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already set up the machine gun nest around the office. We have one of those, you know.”
“Yeah,” I tell him, “I’m
back to where your rich guy stuff doesn’t impress me so much, Mr. Scipio.” I slide the tie the rest of the way off his neck.
“I like it when you call me that,” he says.
“Really?” I ask as I unbutton his shirt. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve said it since we met.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like it when you call me that,” he says. “What was it again?”
Slipping his suit jacket and shirt off of him together, I whisper in his ear, “Mr. Scipio.”
“Yeah,” he says, giving me a pat on the butt, “that was better the first time.”
I draw back and give him a playful slap to the chest, saying, “Well look who found their confidence after junior high.”
He smirks and says, “I didn’t say we couldn’t work on it.”
Nick reaches his arms around me and pulls me close, kissing me hard. I’m climbing onto the desk so I don’t lose my balance from the intensity of those full lips on mine.
He slips my blouse over my head and drops it off to the side as he kisses my neck. A moment later, I’m letting my bra fall from my shoulders.
My blood on fire, I reach between us and unfasten Nick’s belt. Unbuttoning his pants, I savor the feel of him through the fabric and I want him inside me now.
He steps back a little and I lift my skirt, showing him I’m ready when he is.
Those dark eyes brighten a little and he steps between my legs. I stroke him as he whispers in my ear, “Do you know how long I waited for you?”
“Then don’t,” I tell him and guiding him to my slippery core.
“Not yet,” he says. He kisses his way down my body, and I’m leaning back on this desk that’s at least as big as my queen-sized mattress.
He’s sucking the skin of my inner thighs, each in their turn, and I’m already starting to sweat. Looking down at that gorgeous head of black hair, I’m not looking at him as the CEO, though I’m on his desk in his office. I’m not looking at him as the billionaire slumming it.
I just see a gorgeous man who wants me in his life.
His mouth moves over me and when his tongue glides over my clit, it’s all I can do to keep my arms from shaking out from under me. Nick puts his arms around my legs, bracing me as his deft mouth attends to every part of my core before returning to my swollen bud.
“Any chance these walls are soundproof?” I ask.
Nick turns his head and sputters laughter. He says, “I do yell at a lot of people in here.” His expression softening, he says, “Nobody’s going to hear you.”
He kisses the top of one thigh all the way up to the knee, and I reach over, grabbing his necktie from the side of his desk where I dropped it. Putting the tie around me, I cinch it up a little, letting it dangle between my breasts.
He looks up to see what I’m doing and kissing his way back up my body, he says, “That’s not your tie, you know.”
“Oh, you don’t like it?” I ask, pushing out my bottom lip.
He kisses my neck and sucks my earlobe before answering, “I didn’t say that.”
Nick presses himself into me, one arm around my back, supporting me. Even though Nick says the office is soundproof, I still put the tie between my teeth to muffle the sounds of my pleasure.
There’s something so different in knowing who he is, who he was. That barrier, the one I felt so long between his world and mine, it’s finally gone.
After he told me, I didn’t know whether to tell him I was awake because I didn’t know how to handle what was happening. All my life, I’ve just been the girl with the silly job in the silly town. Come to find out, the man who has everything only wanted me.
That’s a lot of pressure, but as I caress Nick’s cheek as he’s so deep inside me, I’m starting to think I can handle it. No more drunken parties. No more running away.
No more excuses.
My lips vibrate around the tie and I spit it out, letting Nick hear me. With one hand behind my head now, he kisses my cheek and then my lips.
I look away from Nick for a moment to gaze out the corner of one of his office windows. One thing about Nick is that sex with him typically comes with a hell of a view.
Nick kisses my neck, my shoulder, and every motion is building that tension and building that tension until I’m clutching the edge of the desk as hard as I can as he moves with such power I can’t describe it.
Pulling against the desk drives me harder and harder over him, but my arms still shake as all that built up tension releases in an explosion of sweat and shivers and molten lust permeating everything.
I’m not quiet.
Nick pulls himself out of me and I’m expecting him to come, but he pulls me off the desk and turns me around in front of him so I’m laying front down on his desk. He runs a hand down my back as he pushes inside of me again before my climax has even had a chance to pass.
He’s so powerful in so many ways, but with me, even now, it’s not command. It’s not force. It’s a passion, a fervor that has me wondering if I’m still feeling the first orgasm or if I’ve moved on to a whole new one.
Nick’s strong quads smack against my thighs, and I’m reaching for something, anything to hold onto. Papers are falling off the desk, but I don’t care.
I’m groaning, overwhelmed with delight and Nick is so thick and full inside me. My eyes are almost closed when I notice a light on Nick’s phone over where it says intercom.
“Psst,” I whisper and point to the phone, saying, “is that thing on?”
Nick lunges forward, his hand slamming on the intercom button. It’s a strange feeling with him still inside me, but the light’s gone.
He falls back into his chair, laughing.
“Was that really on?” I ask. “Did you know it was?”
“No,” he says, trying to catch his breath. “I swear. I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out.” He falls into laughter again, and it’s so contagious, I can’t help but join him.
“I don’t know how long it was on, do you?” I ask. “That could have been on the whole time.”
“Well,” Nick says, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm, “I guess that’s one way to announce I’m stepping down.”
“Yeah, I know, right?” I say. Then it clicks. “Wait, what did you say?”
* * *
If anyone heard us through the intercom, they were decent enough not to be outside the office when Nick and I finally came out. Headquarters sex sounded like such a great idea at the time.
It’s funny, back in that hotel room we didn’t leave for a week, the sex was great, but forgettable. I didn’t attach too much significance to it, other than it was something we both wanted.
Things are different now.
Nick’s been home the last few days, though, and it seems like he’s waiting to tell me something, only he hasn’t found the right time. I don’t want to go down that road again.
He’s sitting next to me on the couch, reading a book when I ask, “It’s not that I’m complaining, but aren’t you supposed to be at work trying to save your company?”
“I thought you knew,” he says.
“Knew what?” I ask.
“When I went to my office and found you in there, I thought—Nolan didn’t say anything?” he asks.
“After our last phone conversation, Nolan and I don’t talk all that much,” I answer. “What happened?”
“I had to give up the company,” he says. “There was no way around it.”
“That’s it?” she asks. “No last-minute strategy session with the lawyers or anything?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Someone from the board will step in as acting CEO—probably Mason Handler, but if they are going to install someone from the board, they’d do better with Geraldine Peña. She’s the CFO now, but she’s got the instincts. I thought you just didn’t bring it up because I haven’t said anything about it. The truth is, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. I didn’t know you didn’t know. I’m sorry for
that.”
“So what happened, though?” I ask. “Did you quit, did they fire you?”
“It was more of a legal agreement between consenting parties,” he says. “I had to transfer my stock, too, and it’s depreciated quite a bit. Are you going to be all right if I’m just really rich instead of ultra-rich?”
I rub my chin. “Yeah,” I answer. “I think I’ll stick around. You’re kind of a handful, but I’ll keep you for now.”
“Fair enough,” he says.
“You need to do something, though,” I tell him. “Even if it’s not your company anymore, you need to do something so you can live with what’s happening to the company.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” he says.
I have a few thoughts, but none of them are workable. We talk about it until we’re both spouting nonsense ideas just so we can say we’ve thought of everything. It only takes an hour to get there.
The rest of the day, we just sit and enjoy what life is like when there’s nothing to worry about except the dog, the cat, the kleptomaniac-compulsive-liar sister, basically all forms of media, and the general public.
“So,” I say, “when you told me you were going to come join me in Mulholland, were you planning to make it more than temporary?”
His face darkens a little. “I’d hoped to,” he says. “I wanted to get everything squared away at the office and then see how you felt about it first, though.”
“So, I know where I’m going to live,” I tell him. “If my landlord hadn’t brought back that last money order for rent, I wouldn’t have been able to get out here. Thanks for doing that, by the way.”
“No problem,” he says. “If you decide you need your space, I want you to know you can have it. However,” he says, “if you’d like to stay with me, the manager of the Plimpington Hotel talked me into renting out the top half of his place while I wait for the new house to be built. I’m going to recommend that guy to a few people on my way out of town. He could make a killing as a hired negotiator.”