Mr. Big

by Delancey Stewart

  She sat up straight, looking like a lightning bolt had gone through her. “Oh God.”

  I could feel the darkness threatening at the edges of my mind and I shook my head, trying to clear the anger away, but it didn’t help. My hand gripped my glass hard. “They lied to me my whole life. They let me believe in something that wasn’t even true—never told me where I came from, who I really belonged to…” I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering how much it had hurt when I’d first learned about it, how hard it had been to process this new reality. My entire life had been a fucking lie. A fucking pile of lies.

  “Oliver, no.” Holland’s hand was on mine again, her voice pleading as she leaned in, pulling me back from the edge of the darkness. “I don’t know why they didn’t tell you…but I do know something else, something really important.” She squeezed my fingers and waited until I met her eye. “Oliver…they wanted you. They loved you. Chose you.” It was a whisper, and her voice broke as the words slipped from her perfect lips.

  I looked up to find tears welling in her eyes, and the darkness inside me cleared, forgotten, as I took in her pain and wondered how to make it disappear.

  “No one ever chose me.” Her eyes shut and the tears squeezed past her lashes, rolling in lines down the pale skin.

  Oh God. Seeing Holland upset had hit me hard, but seeing her cry? It almost broke me. I stood up and moved to her side, gathering her into my chest and burying my head in her hair, not caring where we were or who might be nearby. “I do,” I whispered into her hair. “I choose you.”

  —

  I had wanted to take Holland home with me that night, but she refused. She insisted that she was fine, but that she needed time to think. I let her go, hoping against hope that she’d come back to me, that I hadn’t lost my chance to make those incredible eyes shine again.

  The next morning, I headed into my office. I flashed my badge at the security guards, who both seemed to struggle not to look surprised at my appearance for the second day in a row.

  “Mr. Cody,” they said as I walked to the elevators.

  When the doors slid open at reception, I walked directly to the tall desk where the young receptionist appeared to be frozen, her eyes wide.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Mr. Cody,” she said, her voice soft. She didn’t try to hand me messages or tell me anything else, so I smiled at her and turned to walk to my office.

  Pamela lifted her head of long brown hair and watched me approach. I saw something like relief cross her face, and imagined she must have been wondering if I’d be back today. I stopped in front of her desk, finding it hard not to grin at her. “Good morning, Pamela.”

  “Mr. Cody,” she said, a faint twinkle in her eye. “It’s nice to have you back.”

  I nodded. It was nice to be back, actually. Something had clicked back into place inside me, and the world seemed less drab, less drained of life.

  “I’ll get you some coffee if you’d like, and then when you’re ready, we can review your day and go over a few of your more urgent messages.” Pamela was standing now, and she pulled open the door to my office, looking a bit uncertain. “I mean, if you’re really back. Like, back to work.” I got the sense she’d been waiting all day yesterday for me to bolt again, but now she was willing to risk believing I might stay.

  “I am. Thanks,” I said, walking into the wide space overlooking Santa Monica. It was like seeing it all again for the first time. The day before, after the excitement of the MLB meeting, I hadn’t really taken it all in. My desk, my low leather couch, even my cup full of pens—it was all exactly as I’d left it months ago. It was strange to see this space without seeing Adam here. We’d spent so much time in this office, strategizing, planning. I bit back an ache of sadness and took off my coat, slinging it over one of the chairs facing the desk. “Whenever you’re ready,” I told Pamela.

  “I’ll give you half an hour to get settled,” she said, and then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. I had no doubt there was a buzz just beyond that door. I knew the secretaries were probably talking in hushed voices and that Rob had been alerted to my presence for the second day in a row. Rob should have come bursting through the door, but he didn’t. I returned to the many emails that had been sitting way too long in my inbox.

  Pamela returned with the promised coffee and settled herself across from me, where she began reviewing everything I’d missed in a competent, straightforward manner, as if I’d just been on vacation, not away having a nervous breakdown.

  Most of the morning passed that way, with my secretary’s clear voice explaining in plain terms not just the correspondence I’d missed, but describing some of the political issues that had floated around the executive floor in my absence as well. When she wound down, I leaned forward and thanked her. “I appreciate you staying in my absence,” I told her. “I won’t be taking off any more time. And you can expect a raise.”

  She ducked her head when I said this, surprise coloring her cheeks before she hid her face from my view. I had the sense she didn’t want me to see her reaction to this news. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I need you to arrange something else as well,” I told her. Then I described the transfer that would need to be orchestrated through human resources, the move of one Holland O’Dell from sales to analytics. “I’ll give you the details of what I have in mind.”

  “I’m not sure they’ll believe I have the authority to request that,” Pamela said. She was grinning, though, as if hearing about Holland’s promotion affected her personally.

  I gave her a frank look before continuing. I’d undervalued Pamela, but the way she’d stood up to me when no one else would, talked to me like I was a misguided human being instead of some kind of fearful morose monster—that all told me that she could do much more than she’d been doing before. “I’m not going to need a secretary anymore, Pamela.” Her face fell slightly and I quickly corrected myself. “I need you to step up, to be much more than that. We’ll find a more appropriate moniker, but what I need is a right hand. I want you to be more involved in the day-to-day business, to handle things on my behalf so there are almost two of me. The way you did while I was out.”

  Pamela was nodding, a smile lighting her brown eyes. She was pretty, I realized. I’d undervalued her in lots of ways, it seemed.

  I punched in a key on my phone and had the receptionist transfer me to the head of human resources. “This is Oliver Cody,” I told him. “I have charged Pamela Verity with some new duties, one of which will be to dictate a few personnel changes and some office moves. Please respect her authority when she calls, and if there are any issues, know that they come straight to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, sounding nervous. “Good to have you back, sir.”

  I hung up and raised my eyebrows at Pamela, who smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Call me Oliver,” I suggested.

  She nodded and left.

  I spun in my chair and looked out over the city below. It was good to be back.

  Chapter 14

  Holland

  Though I had been out, I knew I hadn’t missed much. I’d caught up on email Monday afternoon, so there couldn’t be anything I really needed to give my attention to today besides making sure Trey knew I was working. And that left me free to focus on the turmoil roiling around in my mind. I was still buzzed with adrenaline—any time I had to present in front of a group I got that rush, and it took a while to wear off. This one was more potent because of what it could mean for my career. If I’d managed what I set out to do…if we’d managed it…it could change everything.

  I stared at the list of emails on my screen, not really seeing it, as my mind moved on to the other major development in my life…Oliver Cody. He was right, he hadn’t exactly lied to me. Though I didn’t appreciate omissions of truth much more than lies. Still, I understood why he hadn’t been up-front, at least I thought I understood a little bit. He’d been away
from work for a long time, and had certainly spent the last part of that time reeling from the tragedy that had taken his parents from him. I could understand why Oliver might have been happy to have someone in his life who didn’t know him as the CEO for a while. And he had told me in the end.

  Of course now that I knew, I needed to put a stop to the warm feeling that spread through my limbs at the thought of his name, the memory of what those dark eyes looked like as they lidded with lust. I needed to forget all of that. He was the CEO of my company, and therefore my boss, which made things extremely complicated at best.

  My phone rang, distracting me.

  “Hello, Holland O’Dell.” I pressed the cool receiver to my ear.

  “Ms. O’Dell, this is Scott Crea, in HR. Is there a time today when we might be able to meet?”

  Fear swirled in my stomach, and I wondered if Trey had already decided I wasn’t taking work seriously, had already pulled the trigger on his threat. Scott’s words made me search my mind for whatever infraction might have put me in trouble with HR. Sleeping with the CEO seemed like a potential ding, but there was no way he could know about that, could he? “Sure,” I said. “I could come now.” Whatever this was, I figured it was better to get it over with. If I scheduled something for the afternoon, I’d worry about it all day.

  By the time I’d crossed the plaza to the executive tower where Scott’s office was, I’d calmed myself, convinced I hadn’t done anything to get me into trouble—or nothing anyone could possibly know about. I wondered if this might be related to the analyst’s demotion, the one Oliver had orchestrated after I’d told him about the way the guy had gotten the job over me, but I doubted that could be traced back to me, either.

  “Ms. O’Dell,” Scott said, waving me into his office. Though we weren’t on a high floor, he had glass windows at his back, letting in light and making the space feel expansive and open. One day I wanted an office like this. One day, I told myself, I would have it.

  I sat, giving Scott a weak smile. “Can you tell me what this is about?” I asked, unable to wait any longer. If I was in trouble, I wanted to know it.

  He smiled and sat down. “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” he said, grinning at me. “You’re being promoted.”

  I let that news sink in. A promotion in my department meant moving up from account executive to account supervisor, a position that still had me in sales. Nothing in the way Trey had spoken to me yesterday indicated he’d put in a call to have me promoted. “Oh,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed or confused. The promotion made no sense at all, since Trey had been at my desk literally one day ago, basically challenging me to step up.

  “It’s unusual,” Scott continued. “But moves between departments aren’t unheard of. You’ll be taking on a new role as director of analytic application.”

  “What?” I asked, sitting up straight.

  “It’s a position that’s just been created,” he said. “A go-between that straddles sales and analytics. Here’s the job description I received this morning from Mr. Cody’s office. You were appointed by name.”

  As I scanned the paper he’d handed me, everything snapped into place. Oliver had made this happen. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or elated, but I was definitely leaning toward the latter. Still, something didn’t feel right about having this handed to me on a silver platter. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t worked my ass off for it, but I also knew no other candidates had been given a chance at the new position. I’d won it by sleeping with the CEO. With that cheery thought in mind, Scott led me to the eighth-floor office that would now be mine, and I entered it as one might reenter a church after years of living a secular life—with extreme reverence, and hounded by guilt.

  The space was open and bright, and the windows afforded a view of Santa Monica and the Pacific beyond. I stared out at the blue horizon, my mind spinning wildly.

  “Mr. Cody has requested that you make the transition over the next week or so, but that you do it from this office so you are accessible to your new department as needed to get up to speed.”

  I nodded, struck dumb as I turned to take in the broad wooden desk in the center of the room. There was another impressive bouquet of lilies and roses set in its center, with a card peeking out that was addressed to me.

  “I’ll drop some paperwork off this afternoon, and we can schedule time to go over the compensation package and additional benefits,” Scott continued, seeming to think nothing of this enormous change coming out of the blue. “Congratulations,” he finished.

  “Thank you,” I said, standing behind my new desk as I watched him leave the room. I pulled the card from the flowers, and was unsurprised to find they were from Oliver.

  I choose you. —Oliver

  I dropped into the chair behind the desk and turned, staring out the window as I tried to sort through the wild thoughts flinging around inside my mind.

  I let the blue expanse of the sky calm me a bit, and leaned back, working to accept that I’d earned this. Maybe it had come down a different path than I’d expected it to, maybe it had happened a little faster, but I’d still earned it. I pushed down the guilt that was threatening to ruin what should be a major achievement in my life.

  “Hello, Director.” Oliver’s deep voice came from the doorway and sent my skin tingling as a warmth washed over me, unbidden. I took a deep breath and turned in my chair to face him, steeling myself.

  He stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling it completely. With just one foot over the threshold into my office, he dominated the space, making me feel like I was visiting him here instead of the other way around. I realized he commanded every room he walked into. Especially dressed as he was today, in the tie and dress shirt, his hair perfectly messy and a light stubble covering that grave jaw. His shirt was rolled up the thickly corded forearms. I pushed down a flush of heat and took a deep breath.

  “I’m not sure what to think about this,” I said.

  He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

  “I can tell you exactly what to think.”

  “Of course you can.” I raised an eyebrow. Only someone as arrogant as Oliver would believe it was okay to tell people what to think.

  He ignored me, twisting the lock on the door handle and striding to stand before my new desk. “You should think that you worked your ass off, devising the biggest technology modification to an existing Cody Tech device ever, and that your analytic chops make you a perfect fit for this position.”

  “I don’t want a promotion because I happen to know the CEO.” I put emphasis on the word “know,” though he certainly knew what I meant even without it.

  “You’re the one who made me realize this position is necessary. I created the position and appointed the best person to fill it.” He gave me a frank look, those dark eyes pinning me into the leather chair as he leaned over the desk. “Doing what makes sense for this company is the definition of my job as CEO. It has nothing to do with what goes on between us outside of work.”

  I had a hard time believing him, but his eyes suggested it wouldn’t be wise to argue. His face was inscrutable as he straightened and came around the desk, reaching out a hand for mine and pulling me to my feet. He slipped an arm around my waist and turned me to face the view I’d been admiring before he’d come in. Oliver pulled me tightly against his side, the sheer heat and size of him threatening to reduce me to steam, and then he leaned his head down and said in a low growl, “You earned this. Don’t think for one second you didn’t.”

  His breath hit the side of my neck, sending shivers through me, and before I could compose myself, he followed his words with his mouth. His soft lips touched my earlobe, and his teeth nipped it roughly, sending sparks of pain and arousal through me. My mind flashed a warning that too much had happened already, that we were at work, that this was wrong. But my traitorous body responded very differently, my nipples hardening against the fabric of my shirt and my breath escaping on a tiny mo
an.

  That was all the encouragement Oliver needed. His hand cupped my breast as he moved his big body in front of me, pressing my ass against the edge of my desk as he dropped his head to the other side of my neck. He nipped and sucked the tender skin beneath my ear, leaving a trail of ecstasy down my throat and across to the hollow of my collarbone.

  My head dropped back, exposing my neck to him, and my breath was coming fast as I pushed myself shamelessly against the iron-hard erection I felt at my hip.

  Oliver’s mouth found mine as his hand gripped the back of my head, pulling me to him. His lips crushed mine, his tongue demanding entry and sliding against my own. I felt myself respond, pulling him deeper into my mouth hungrily as my arms twined around his neck. His finger and thumb pinched my nipple through my shirt, and then with a growl, he released me and deftly swept my shirt over my head, unfastened my bra and dropped his mouth to the nipple his hand had just left. His other hand dropped from behind my head, found the curve of my back and pulled me into him, so that every inch of my body was met with the hard, heated muscle of his.

  It was almost impossible to speak, the sensations flooding through me were so intense. “Oliver, we shouldn’t…not here,” I managed, but there was no conviction in my words. The fact that I moaned them more than spoke didn’t add weight to the force of my resistance, and I had to admit I didn’t really want him to stop. I just felt like I needed to be the one to point out that standard office protocol probably prohibited this sort of employee-boss interaction during office hours. Or at all.

  “You’re right,” he ground out, his mouth moving to my other breast. His arm swept down beneath my butt and a second later he was lifting me, setting me onto the edge of the desk. “This is better.” He raised his head and smiled at me, his eyes heavy with lust. And then he pushed my skirt up my thighs, tracing the skin with the rough palms of his huge hands and wrapping them around my ass, pulling me until I was perched at the brink of the big desk.