CEO'd By Him Complete Series Box Set

by Nella Tyler

  She went home. She took off her black suit and put on a pair of jeans with a sweater. She put on a leather jacket and picked up her purse, locking the front door behind her as she got back into the car and left.

  She felt the need to be as alone as she could possibly be. Without any idea where she was headed, she drove out of town, randomly taking left or right turns as the whim presented itself. She spent the rest of the day driving, and then found herself curiously arriving at the restaurant on the river where she and Adam had watched the fishermen and dined on their fresh catch. She felt as though she were hammering misery into herself.

  Perhaps this is what it takes. Perhaps you have to drive yourself so low that you almost think you can’t stand it another moment; that’s when you begin to heal. She really was no authority on this, but she knew that each person’s road to strength was unique and she had to find her own.

  She took a small two-person table by the window and looked down to see, much to her surprise, the river had frozen. There were no fishermen on its banks; and she wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her. It was colder than she realized and now she thought of the guests at Lucy’s funeral, dressed in heavy coats and shivering as a sat on the metal chairs to listen to the service.

  Marty was a brave man, she thought. Perhaps he understands exactly where I’m at. Perhaps he felt the need to make everyone miserable, as miserable as he felt. She doubted it, though. In fact, she doubted there were many people as selfish as what she felt at that moment.

  After eating, she drove home again. She slammed the front door, slapped the lock shut, stomped off to her bedroom, kicking her shoes against the wall. She angrily went through her drawers, finding something ugly to wear. That’s how she felt. Purely ugly.

  She found a pair of old sweatpants and a gray T-shirt that splattered with paint. It felt exactly the right thing to wear in her current mood.

  She went to the kitchen, snatching up the bag she brought in with her. She whipped out the bottle of Scotch and even took a dirty glass from the sink, barely rinsing it out. She filled it, took a slurp, and nearly gagged at the effect. She was determined to be miserable, however. She finished off the glass, picked up the bottle, and headed for the living room.

  Mackenzie opened the cabinet where the television sat, going through the drawers beneath for the tape she was seeking. She found it easily; she had marked it in bright red so it would never get accidentally erased. She popped it into the VHS player, turned on the television and moved to the sofa, the remote in hand. The bottle of Scotch was clutched between her thighs and as she powered on the television and VCR, she took another swig.

  This was the film of her wedding to David. As soon as she saw his image, her eyes filled with tears. That required another slug from the bottle. She looked at their happiness and she could remember what it felt like to know that she would never be alone, that he would always be there, holding her hand. Little did she know then that the opposite would be true. She held his hand, until the very end.

  They were laughing and she heard the sound of his voice again. That was the first time since he died and a pain shot through her heart. She quelled it with another slug from the bottle. She picked up the remote and replayed their vows over and over. Ten times, twenty times; she couldn’t seem to get enough of his voice. He promised, dammit. He promised!

  The alcohol was beginning to have an effect – she was beginning to feel like she been run over with a bowling ball. There was only one way she knew to overcome that, and that was to take a few more slugs from the bottle. She held it up to the light, judging how much she had drank and saw that it was still half full. Maybe I’ll have just a little bit more, she thought to herself. Two more slugs and then she set the bottle on the coffee table. She played through the video a few more times.

  Suddenly, her stomach fought back. She felt herself turning green and leapt off the couch for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet, slapping open the lid and dipping her head deep inside. All her dinner came up, fueled by the Scotch. Over and over again she erupted, grabbing a towel off the rack to wipe her face. It stopped long enough for her to wet the towel down and she held it over her face like a cool mask. The retching began again and finally, finally she felt like she truly was in hell.

  She opened the linen closet and grabbed whatever towels there were, forming them into a sort of pallet with a pillow on the bathroom floor. She spent the night there, redolent of the sour smell of her lost dinner and Scotch.

  When, at last it eased, she peeled off her clothing while lying prone and eased over the edge of the tub to climb inside. She flipped on the water and let it cleanse her. She lay in the tub until the hot water had turned cool and she had begun to shiver. She shut the water off, reaching over the edge of the tub and picking up as many towels that she could get her hands on. She wrapped herself in these and eventually fell asleep in the damp tub.

  * * *

  Mackenzie thought it was morning, but wasn’t entirely sure because she found herself in the bathroom and there were no windows there. She gingerly crept over to the door and opened it, peering out into the hallway. She could tell by the light coming from the living room end of the hall that it was daytime.

  As her memories came back, she remembered what she had done the night before. Groaning, she made her way to her bedroom, clawed her way up the side of the bed and into the covers. She lay the cloth she’d brought with her over her head, sealing the light out from her eyes. Gratefully, she fell back to sleep and stayed there most of the day.

  She heard a ringing and realized her cell phone was somewhere in the house, although she wasn’t really sure where. She pulled on a robe quickly and went in search for it, but she wasn’t quick enough. It had stopped ringing before found it. She looked in her purse, throughout the kitchen, in the bathroom, and in her bedroom, but couldn’t find it. Eventually, she sat down on the sofa, and on the phone which had been hiding between the cushions.

  She checked the recent calls and saw that Adam had called. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right then. She felt too ill.

  She made her way back into the shower, although this time she ran cold water over herself. She dressed in a soft nightie and a robe, gathered up all the soiled towels in the bathroom, and threw them in the wash. She combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and tried to forget.

  It wasn’t working.

  The television had shut off after a time, but the VCR still glowed. She remembered what she had been watching and she ejected the videotape and carefully placed it back in the drawer. She made a mental note that she would have to have it transferred to a DVD at some point. They say that cassette tapes stretch and break down over time. She didn’t want to lose the image of the only man who had truly loved her.

  That wasn’t entirely fair. She knew that Adam loved her, but he deserved much better. Over time, he would come to realize that.

  The doorbell rang and her head whipped about, grimacing at the pain that produced. She peered through the people and saw Adam standing there. She really didn’t want to see anyone, but it was Adam, after all. She opened the door a scant four inches.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her. She nodded. “You didn’t answer my call. I was concerned. I’ll leave now.” With that he turned on his heel and left. Mackenzie stood in the doorway, a fresh ache in her chest. She closed the front door, carefully locking it and went back to her bedroom where she slept until the next morning.

  It was Monday morning, and she knew she was supposed to be at work. They probably would not fire her for it, considering Lucy, but she had a decision to make. Luckily, there was David’s insurance money, and she had managed to save a fair amount over the years.

  She picked up her phone and called into the office, asking for her boss. She explained that she was leaving the company and that apologized for the short notice, but Lucy’s death was more than she was able to cope with. He seemed to understand this, to his credit, and neither threatened nor tried to arg
ue with her. She thought he probably saw it coming.

  She threw the towels into the dryer and washed her bedding. She remade the bed and as she did so, she thought about her options and decided she wouldn’t make any decisions for at least a month. She needed that amount of time at least to figure out her life for the future.

  Once her bed was made up, she made herself a quick sandwich and headed to her crafting room. Here was the bosom of solace – the only place where she could put the other half of her brain to work. She still ached from her ordeal, but she knew that would pass. She pulled open the drawer filled with colored bars of clay.

  The memories of Adam, as he helped her to build the cabinets and then later shopped for the clay, returned to her. She felt that ache again, but knew she would have to get through it and just wait for it to pass. She experimented with colors, mixing them as she rolled them through the pasta maker. She pulled out molds and clay sculpting tools. She had no idea what she was doing, but it felt good. Perhaps that was because she was creating something new, instead of destroying something from the past. She felt somehow more valid.

  She went to her computer and flipped it on, planning to head for YouTube and some clay instructional videos. There was a shortcut on the desktop to the dating site. She eyeballed it, the old instinct to click it rose again. She hesitated briefly and then the defiance that was fueling her at the moment pushed her to click upon it.

  She knew there were plenty of lost souls there to talk to, people who wouldn’t mind if she disappeared tomorrow. She pictured herself sitting on a stool at corner bar. The people around her were sullen and lost in thought, hunched over their drinks as though waiting for some miracle to happen. They were simmering in their own misery – that’s where she belonged.

  The familiar front page popped up and Mackenzie saw that her inbox was filled with dozens upon dozens of mails. And her current rebellious mood, she went through all of the emails, refusing to filter any of them out. She responded to each and every one.

  The effect was instantaneous. Message boxes popped up all over her screen. “Hey, baby, do you want to chat?” “Hi there, gorgeous.” “Are you lonely? Do you want me to come over?” “Do you like younger men?” There was no end to the comments. Just as she had imagined, the bar was filled with people who had nothing more in life to challenge them than getting a stranger to talk.

  Again, it made her feel filthy and violated, but this time that’s the way she thought she should feel. Over the top of all of them came the one name that was so familiar.

  HarryM: Hey there, pretty lady. What are you doing on here again?

  AliceWonderland: Hello, Harry. Well, you will be proud of me.

  HarryM: How’s that?

  AliceWonderland: I have been on a bit of the bender, actually. I spent last night on the bathroom floor, after polishing off a half bottle of Scotch.

  HarryM: Jesus! I didn’t even know you drank.

  AliceWonderland: I don’t, really. It just seemed that the timing was right. Oh, and I quit my job today. Of course, now that I’m unemployed, I have plenty of time to sit here and talk with you. I guess it’s not all bad, right?

  HarryM: And the boyfriend? Adam?

  AliceWonderland: Adam. A man of my past, officially as of seventy-two hours ago. I think.

  HarryM: What in the hell do you think you’re doing?

  AliceWonderland: I’m giving myself the life I deserve.

  HarryM: What are you talking about? You don’t deserve anything that’s bad. Are you still drunk?

  AliceWonderland: LOL. No, I think I’ve had enough of that for this lifetime. I’m starting a new life, as a matter of fact, Harry. I’m going to take some time for myself. I’ve got a room full of crafts to play with, a car full of gasoline, enough food in the kitchen that I could probably live off of it for the next six months, a few bucks in the bank, and enough anger to fuel me through anyone who tries to stop me.

  HarryM: This doesn’t sound like you, pretty lady. You’re not self-destructive.

  AliceWonderland: Want to bet?

  HarryM: You’re scaring me. Look, I think it’s about time that we met. I want to come and see you, tonight.

  AliceWonderland: No shit?

  HarryM: No shit. Give me your address and your telephone number.

  AliceWonderland: You sure about this? I’ve been hinting to meet you for some time now, but you keep putting me off.

  HarryM: Well, I won’t do that any longer. This is going to happen; it is going to happen tonight.

  AliceWonderland: I’m not really dressed for company.

  HarryM: I’m not really company, am I? I think we’re sort of beyond that. As long as you have clothes on, you’re decent enough for me.

  AliceWonderland: Suit yourself. I’ll be waiting.

  She gave him her address and telephone number. The light next to his name dimmed and she knew he was on his way. She looked around, wondering if she should clean the place up a bit. She decided against it. If people didn’t like her the way she was, they didn’t have to come over.

  She did, however, go into the bathroom and wash her face, brush her teeth and straighten her hair. She even went so far as to add a bit of mascara and a pale lipstick.

  It was only about five minutes later when the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows rose, realizing he really didn’t live so very far away. She spent fifteen seconds coming up with her first words; what would she say to him the first time they met face-to-face?

  She went to the door and opened it. “Holy shit.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Hello, Mackenzie,” Tim said as he walked through the door.

  “Tim? Harry?”

  “One and the same.”

  “I don’t understand. It’s been you all this time?”

  “Are you going to invite me to sit down?”

  “Of course, have a seat please,” she stuttered, motioning toward the living room.

  “Thanks, don’t mind if I do. So, pretty lady…”

  It hit her then like a lightning bolt. Harry had consistently called her that and it always rang a bell for her. Now she remembered. That’s how Tim addressed her when he would come into the office. “Why did you go under the name Harry?”

  “Would you have talked to me if you knew it was me?”

  Mackenzie paused a moment, staring at him and that she slowly shook her head. “No, to be absolutely honest, I probably wouldn’t have. Not because it was you, per se, but because I felt like when I was on there, I could say whatever I wanted and behave however I pleased. If I had known it was you, I couldn’t have done that.”

  “So, now you understand. We were both thinking along the same lines, although I think you had a lot more opening up to do that I did.”

  Mackenzie stared, still flabbergasted that it was Tim sitting in her living room. It had been a while since she’d seen him and he was looking great. He had taken off quite a bit of weight and had styled his hair differently. She wondered if she had any part in that.

  “So, where do we go from here?” she asked him.

  “I would venture to say that has a lot to do with you, more than it does with me. Right now, I’m here as your big brother. You’ve got your head screwed on wrong and I’m not going to let you get away with it. I’m going to stay right here while we talk this thing through and I’m not leaving until you’re back to the Mackenzie that I know.”

  “Well, I hope you’re planning to be here for a very long time because I don’t see that happening anytime soon. For one thing, I’m tired of the old Mackenzie. She’s mean, selfish, thoughtless, and self-involved.”

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t expect this to be a simple job.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothbrush, slapping it down on the coffee table. “It just so happens I have a bag with fresh clothes in the trunk. Just point me to your guestroom and I’ll take it from there.”

  “You’re not serious…” she said, unable to keep the skepticism from her voice.


  “Oh, I’m completely serious. I’ve gotten you through this so far, and I knew it would come to this eventually. So, why don’t you go into that kitchen of yours and make us both a cup of hot coffee, I’ll take cream in mine. I’m going to get my bag out of the car and find your guestroom. If you lock the door, I’ll just break through it.” With that, he headed for the door and she heard it close gently behind him. She shrugged and went into the kitchen to make coffee.

  “I took the one with the blue bedspread,” came Tim’s voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him.

  “You sure do know how to make yourself at home, don’t you?” she teased.

  “I sure do try. Is that mine?”he asked, reaching out for the mug she held in her hand.

  “It is if you want to add your own cream,” she handed it to him. She opened the refrigerator and handed him the cream, which he poured liberally into his cup.

  “I never did care for strong coffee,” he commented idly. “So, I understand you become a real Susie homemaker as of late?”

  “Is that really what you came here to find out?”

  He chuckled. “Among other things.”

  “And, am I allowed to know what these other things are?” Mackenzie was curious.

  “That depends.”

  “On…”

  “It depends on how real you plan to be with me. I’m here to get you straightened out, one way or another. Get ready, because I’m going to lay everything on the line. Just as you have nothing to lose, neither do I. Let’s see which one of us can ruin our life first, shall we?”

  “And, just why do you think I’m ruining my life?” She picked up her mug and came around from behind the breakfast bar, headed for the living room. As she passed him, he slapped her on the bottom. Without turning around, she stopped in her tracks.

  “You really do know how to make yourself at home,” she commented and then continued on to the living room.

  He followed her and sat on the sofa next to her. Subconsciously, she picked up the sofa pillows and plumped them, setting them back down between the two of them. She had built a wall without even realizing it. Tim saw it and knew what it meant.