Loving the CEO

Emily:

Sitting down in the park, I let the cool evening breeze wash over my skin as I watched the children play. Adults were sitting on the nearby benches, conversing or going on their merry way. Watching everything unfold took me back to when I was a kid and I would enjoy the company of my father and mother as we played in my favorite meadow near our house back in Texas. Those were happy days for me, and every day I wished I could be transported back to that time—when I was happy and didn't have a care in the world.

Sighing, I got up and walked back to my apartment building. There I checked on the woman who made my heart break every day as her condition continued to decline. She was still fast asleep, lying peacefully with a smile on her face. Walking into her room, I kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “I love you, Mom,” before I ventured into the living room. I watched television until my mind got tired. Going into my room, I laid on my bed and closed my eyes, falling asleep instantly.

Ring! Ring! My alarm went off, blasting through the entire room and causing me to quickly shoot awake. I cursed the day the inventor of the alarm clock invented the annoying contraption because they were irritating and loud as hell. It seemed like the things always went off when I was dreaming about something amazing that I didn't want to wake up from, when what I was dreaming about was pure bliss or I was all snuggled up, enjoying the warmth of my bed. Then, boom, there went the stupid alarm clock, ringing loudly and jarring my nerves.

Looking at it in disgust, I turned it off, wiped my eyes, and got out of bed. Stretching my tired aching limbs, I walked to the bathroom, where I stripped out of my nightwear and stepped into the shower. Turning it on, I allowed the warm water to run over my body, soothing my aching limbs. My body felt very tired. Everywhere hurt because I was doing overtime to generate more funds so I could buy my mom's medications, which were now long overdue. That and I wasn't sleeping well.

I had to be up and about every morning before dawn to make sure that my mom's breakfast was made, the house was in good order, and to get ready for work.

My mom was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer a year ago, and I was struggling to pay for her chemotherapy and buy her medications. Since I was her only child and my dad died from a heart attack when I was seventeen, I was now the breadwinner of the family. Due to her illness, I told her that she should stay home and rest and that I would provide for her and myself.

But recently, things were getting harder to manage. The pay I was receiving from the local bookstore where I worked, which was very small, could not cover the monthly bills, rent, medications, chemotherapy, and food, so I decided that I would look for a job with better pay and benefits. Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and walked to the mirror. I wiped away the fog that had escaped and fogged up the glass during my shower. Staring at my reflection, I saw a very beautiful petite girl with hazel eyes, long, black, shiny hair, and a pale face that seemed much older than my age.

I used to consider myself brave, but truth be told, I was a coward. I never defended myself, not now and not when I was back in high school—except for that one time I humiliated a rich guy who'd tried to use me for my body. I'd had to stand up for myself that day. I was thirteen when my dad got a great job in Washington, DC, meaning we had to move from Texas, the home I'd grown to love, and the meadow I'd enjoyed running in when the sun was setting and the tall grass held that evening glow.

Moving meant I would be going to a new school and mixing with people more fortunate than I was. Our new house was small; it wasn’t like some of the mansions I had passed while driving to school, but it was comfortable and I liked it. Unfortunately, being the new kid and living in a small house was a combination that resulted in me getting teased and bullied by rich snobby kids. I would go home every day and cry on my mom’s shoulders, telling her I hated this place and I wanted to leave. I told her I was going to tell Dad that I didn’t want to live here anymore, but when I saw the smile on his face and heard the cheerfulness in his voice when he spoke about his new job, I kept quiet. I made my mom promise to keep quiet too.

I endured the bullying and eventually got over it, telling myself that this was only temporary and life couldn’t get any worse. But it did. It was like the universe was mocking me for some unknown reason, like I'd done something wrong and karma, being the bitch that she was, was coming back to take revenge.

It was Wednesday night, and my mom and I were in the living room watching our favorite movie when we heard a knock on the door. It was a police officer. He had come to inform us that my dad had suffered a heart attack and, although he had been rushed to the hospital, he was pronounced dead before he even arrived. I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks. I felt so lost, like a part of me was gone. And it was. I was depressed for months until one day, I met a guy. I fell in love with him and was quite smitten. He was my rock in my time of need, and I felt like I could trust him, like I could offer a piece of myself to him. I considered him to be my boyfriend.

But like I said, it was like I'd wronged the universe and karma was coming back to punish me, to torture me. That guy I had grown to love was not who I thought he was. I later found out that our relationship had been one sided; he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him. He was just trying to use me, to get in my pants so he could tell everyone how much of a slut I was. He used his charm and wit to comfort me, to manipulate me, so he could use me—that was how much of a douchebag he was.

I heard that he always did this to girls, humiliate them then laugh in their faces. He was a cold-hearted bastard, and he thought he could pull the same stunt on me, but I found out about his ugly personality before we actually could do anything. Then I turned the cards on him, humiliating him in front of the entire school. I told everyone that he was a maniac and had a small penis. That didn’t work out for me as I was labeled a whore, a slut, and was shamed every day.

Looking back, I realized how stupid I'd been falling for a rich guy. Back then, guys like him would never fall for a girl like me—not that something was wrong with me. It's just that the popular crowd didn't quite “hang” with people who weren't rich and didn't wear designer clothing, drive expensive cars, or live in huge houses with maids and butlers.

But humiliating Jake Smith didn’t make my situation any better, and because of this, my self-esteem dropped. My mom was tired of the tears, so she used the insurance money she got from my dad’s death to move us to New York, a city where there were better opportunities and fewer snobby bitches. Now, all that money was gone, and I was the one who worked to provide for the both of us.

Sighing to myself, I tore my eyes from the mirror before I proceeded to brush my teeth. Finishing, I went to my room, where I got dressed in my work attire: a black pencil skirt, a white V-neck ruffle-sleeve blouse, and a pair of black flats. They were the same dull colors I wore every day—white, gray, black, or some combination of the three.

After I got dressed, I walked to my mother's room to check on her. Opening the door, I saw that she was still sleeping soundly. Walking inside, I kissed her on her cheek before exiting to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and lunch for both of us. After I was finished, I ate. Next, I packed my lunch and put hers in the refrigerator. I then went to her room, where I left her breakfast on the table beside her bed.

Exiting my apartment, I locked the door behind me before hurriedly walking down the hall and through the main door that led out to the street. Walking to the bus stop, I arrived just in time to catch the bus that stopped close to my workplace. Entering, I saw that Joe wasn’t the driver. I must say I was a bit disappointed. Joe was the elderly man who often drove the bus that took me straight to work at the bookstore. He was very caring, and that was how we first met.

Three years ago, I was on the bus feeling nostalgic; memories of my dad had washed over me quite suddenly. I burst out crying, but thankfully, I was the only occupant besides Joe. Joe heard me and pulled over so he could come around to where I was sitting. He asked me why I was crying and began to comfort me. He cracked joke after joke, and I could honestly say that I hadn't laughed so hard in a long time. From that day forward, we were friends, and whenever he was working, he would pick me up, no matter where I was.

Arriving at work, I opened the doors to the bookstore and stepped in before closing the door behind me. Due to the bus schedule, I had to leave early, so normally I was the first one to arrive and the manager entrusted me with the key.

Going inside, I powered on the computer and sat down at the register, waiting for everyone to arrive before we officially opened. It wasn't long before I started buzzing the employees in. The day dragged on; people were hardly coming into the store. Seeing that it was a slow day, I decided to take a quick lunch break, but before I could, I heard a buzz at the door. Pressing the button, I buzzed the person in.

In walked a handsome man dressed in an expensive black suit that seemed to have been painted on his body. He looked like a male model from a picture straight out of a magazine. Standing about six foot two, he had a head full of black hair, a chiseled jaw, and an aquiline nose that complimented his handsome face. My eyes scanned his body, and I saw that his shoulders were broad; his huge muscles could be seen bulging through his expensive suit. He seemed like a man that demanded attention everywhere he went, and at this moment in time, he had mine.

“Hello, what can I help you with, sir?” I said to him, but I doubted he heard me because he was staring at me like he had lost all his senses. Staring straight into his big beautiful brown eyes, I repeated, “Um, hello? Sir, what can I help you with?”

Snapping out of his daze, he smiled at me affectionately, which I returned.

“Do you have 'Start with Why'?” he asked. “It's a business book,” he added when he saw that I looked puzzled.

“Oh, yes, I think we do. Would you like me to escort you to the business section?” I asked.

He nodded his head, and I led the way. Reaching the business section located in the back of the store, I carefully but very hastily searched for the book. I wasn't in a rush or anything, but this man was so handsome he made me very nervous.

I could tell from the way he walked that he was very cocky and arrogant, and I felt slightly intimidated, but there was no way I was going to let him know that. He seemed like the type of man that fed on the fear of others. I could tell that he was rich by the way he was dressed. Finding the book he'd asked for, I handed it to him before pointing in the direction we'd just come from.

“You can pay for it up front.”

With a devilish smirk on his face, he asked, “Aren't you the cashier?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” I stuttered, nodding and feeling like an embarrassed idiot. With my face a bright shade of pink, I hurriedly walked back to the front of the store. Arriving at my station, I cashed out his item and placed it into a bag before handing it to him. As he took the bag from my hand, I felt a gravitational pull toward him, and little bolts of electricity shot through my body when our hands touched. Giving me a wink, he walked outside the store. Shaking my head at him, I waited until he was out of sight before going to the employees' break room to catch my breath and have lunch.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and at exactly 5 pm, when my shift ended, I went into the back room to grab my stuff so I could go home and rest. I wasn't working overtime today because I'd already worked the maximum six weeks of overtime. I was a little happy because I was still very tired and I needed the rest. Collecting my things, I was about to walk out when Tim, one of my co-workers, stopped me. Tim was someone who could be described as nuisance. Standing at about five foot three, he had a face full of acne scars, a badly shaped nose, and beady eyes. He was the type of person I tried to avoid because of his abrasive personality.

“Will you go on a date with me, Emily?” he asked hopefully.

“Tim, I'm going to tell you this for the last time: I do not like you in that way, and I won't be going on a date with you anytime soon,” I replied, annoyed at his persistence.

“We will go on a date one day; keep that in mind, Emily,” he spoke confidently.

Scoffing at him, I rolled my eyes and walked away.

I swear he was so persistent and annoying. Don't get me wrong, persistence was a good trait in a man I was fond of, but when I wasn't interested, I found it to be downright annoying. Walking away, I headed for the front door and then the bus stop. I was just in time to catch the 5:15 pm bus. Boarding the vehicle, I paid my fare and sat down. Once again, I was disappointed to see that Joe wasn’t working.

Getting comfortable, I took the iPad that my dad had given me for my twelfth birthday out of my bag and turned it on. Tilting my head back and resting it on the hard seat, I closed my eyes as the lyrics of Keyshia Cole’s Love flooded my ears. The words of the song brought an image of the gentleman who'd visited the store earlier to the front of my mind.

Wait, what the hell? I asked myself. This cannot be happening. I can't believe I'm thinking about someone I just saw and hardly even know.

It was strange, really, because I was not one to daydream or lust after someone I just met—not after what happened back in high school.

When I reached my apartment building, I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I felt a pair of eyes watching me intently.

Looking across the street, I saw a man standing in the shadows smoking a cigar. I was trying desperately to make out his face, but I couldn't. Looking at him, I felt a chill run up and down my spine, and an eerie feeling overtook me.

Swallowing hard, I hurriedly closed the door and leaned against it, panting.

Regaining my composure and putting on a straight face, I hurriedly walked into my apartment. I marched straight to my mother's room, where I knocked on the door before opening it.

“Mom,” I called out to her. “I'm home.”

Walking inside, I saw that she was laying on her back just staring at the ceiling. She often did this when she felt depressed and thought all hope was lost. Going over to her, I sat at the edge of her bed and took her hands in mine.

“Mom, we will fight this. Just please be strong,” I said to her, but all I got was silence. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I got up off the bed, and I kissed her on her forehead before walking out of the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it and started crying.

Adam:

“These fucking reporters,” I shouted as I threw down the newspaper in disgust. “Adam Jacob, a Casanova and a big-time player, has broken up with Supermodel who’s a sweetheart, Heather Summers.” That was the headline that was on the front of today’s morning newspaper. These journalists were like a hungry dog lusting after a damn bone. They had written total crap and made it seem like I was the bad guy. They didn’t know who Heather Summers was. I can bet my life that she was the one who tipped them off about me being a famous “Casanova.”

I know she did this because I had told her that we couldn’t see each other anymore. She knew what we had was temporary, so I didn’t see why there was any surprise there. When I had broken the news to her last month, she had hit me so hard that my jaw was still feeling the sting every time I thought about it. Heather was someone who couldn’t keep her legs closed, especially to men who had money. She always wanted to use and abuse then toss aside the men that she dated, never wanting them to be the ones who break up with her. And now, she tainted my image, even more, giving the damn story-hungry journalists a made-up story, making me look like the bad guy—as the headline clearly showed all because I had broken up with her first.

When I met her a year ago, I told her that the only relationship I would have with her was a sexual one and she agreed willingly, but everything changed about a month ago when she started getting clingy and territorial. I had to break things off. It seems it's not over for her because she keeps sending me angry texts then sweet ones, posting on my Facebook page with the same crap.

“Mrs. Wilson, where's my coffee?” I shouted to my personal assistant.

“Coming right away sir,” I heard her indistinct reply. It was seven in the morning, and I was at my office in New York City, cranky as hell. It's been days since I last slept. I had returned home today at five am in the morning to see that bullshit headline and also me lacking much-needed sleep wasn’t making the situation any better. I was feeling a bit moody, and I was ready to take it out on anyone who upset me this morning. I was now the CEO of Jacob's Enterprise, a multi-billion-dollar marketing company. I was appointed by my dad, Kyler Jacob, three years ago. He had decided that he should retire and enjoy the rest of his remaining years playing golf and other sports. Seeing as I'd earned my bachelor's degree in business administration, with a specialization in entrepreneurship and a minor in marketing, at UC Berkeley at the age of twenty-two and I was his only son, he passed down the business to me in hopes that I could maintain the profits and keep the business afloat.

My dad was now a widower, and he'd been that way for fifteen years. He said that no woman could ever replace my mom so that's why he never got remarried and this a good thing for me as I don't want anyone to take advantage of my dad and his money.

My mom who I had spent only five years with after my existence, was now deceased. She had died in a car accident shortly after I turned seven. I remembered that day like it was yesterday. My dad had come home with his eyes puffy, swollen, and red when he had told me what happened. I was hurt and distraught.

I didn't get to say goodbye or tell her how much I loved her. I was closed off for months. I wouldn't speak to anyone. I had so much anger in me that I would lash out at anyone who came close to me. I was a seven-year-old child with anger problems that developed into my teens. My dad had tried to reach out to me, but I rebuffed his efforts—I had refused to let anyone in. I was so angry. That is, until James, my now bodyguard, driver, and a family friend for many years came into my room and forced me to hear him out because he was tired of my tantrums and bullshit, as he bluntly called it. He told me that he knew what I was experiencing and the pain I was feeling because he had gone through it, but his situation was worse. His mom had been killed right in front of him by a man his dad owed a huge amount of money to.

He also showed me how to channel my anger by doing karate and training hard until the anger had subsided. To many, he seemed like a frightening giant but in reality, he was a calm and collected guy. He only breaks bones when someone messes with the ones he loves. He is like a second father to me.

Since appointed the CEO I have managed to hold up the company's image and profits, despite my lifestyle choices. My employees are afraid of me and think of me as a cruel and heartless bastard because of the harsh way I treat them but that was not the case. This world we live in is full of competition and what would people think when Jacob's Enterprise hits rock bottom, my dad will be criticized by everyone, they will be gossiping all over. I can already imagine what they would be saying, “Kyler Jacob turned the company over to his son, who is the life of the party and sank the business into debt.”

I couldn't allow that to happen, for it would break my dad's heart to see that the business that he had started with just a small amount of money and turned into something huge—a multi-billion company—was about to fail. He would never forgive me, especially since he'd warned me on countless occasions to change my lifestyle.

So, I have to take drastic measures to keep our image in place.

Standing at “six foot two,” with a head full of black hair and broad shoulders, I look pretty intimidating to people, which is ironic. I am the complete opposite of what they make me out to be, I can honestly describe myself as an honest, caring gentleman who likes to have fun and have sex.

People think that I am dominant, but they're wrong—well not completely. I do dominate women but only in bed. Controlling their every pleasure, allowing them to succumb to their sexual needs, and letting me satisfy them in the most mind-blowing way possible.

Knocking on my door softly and slowly entering was Mrs. Wilson with the cup of coffee that I had requested about fifteen minutes ago. “Mrs. Wilson, how long did I request this?” I asked her.

“F-fifteen minutes ago sir,” she stuttered.

“Then why am I just receiving it? A cup of coffee takes two to four minutes to make.”

“I-I was, um,” her voice came out shakily.

“You were um what Mrs. Wilson?” My voice boomed.

“I was, um,” her voice was still shaky.

Sighing, I asked her calmly, “Mrs. Wilson, can I be assured this mistake won't happen again?”

“Yes sir,” she replied with more confidence, but her voice still had a nervous ring to it. Feeling completely satisfied with her answer I left her with a warning.

“Don't let this happen again or you will be fired!” I said sternly. Looking at her body shaking and nodding her head nervously I knew that I had installed man's worst nightmare fear. Feeling satisfied with her answer and reaction I dismissed her. For the remainder of the day, I went through some important papers and folders about the company. At exactly 4:00 pm, my phone started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, I saw it was my dad, so I picked up.

“Hey son,” my dad's cheerful voice came over the phone. “Have you purchase the book that I asked for?” he asked.

“No dad I didn't as yet I have been busy but I am finishing up now so I can go and buy it,” I replied.

We talked on the phone for five minutes discussing business and such. After hanging up, I finished up what I was doing. Closing the folders and putting away the paper, I grabbed my jacket and was out the door. Pressing the button to my private elevator, I entered and pressed the button that says lobby. When the elevator stopped, I stepped out and was greeted by James. Walking through the double doors, we stepped outside and he opened the door. “Where is Adam?”

“To the bookstore, I need to pick up a book for dad.” Opening the car doors, we both got in simultaneously before he started to drive the car.

“Adam, your recent fling Heather Summers had come to the house looking for you today.”

Chuckling I replied, “somehow I don't find that surprising.”

“I wonder why dad didn't mention it earlier when he called, was he there when she showed up?”

“Well...”

“Well, what James?”

“Well…”

“Just spit it out already!”

“When you arrive home you guys can talk; I'm not saying a word.”

“Okay fine!” I replied irritably, dismissing the conversation. James knew I liked to know things beforehand so I could prepare myself for what I'd be going into. As for Heather, I needed to have a serious talk with her.

I was starting to think that she was bipolar, and then she showed up at my house. This was the final straw; I would not tolerate this childish behavior. As soon as I had time or we met again, I would be speaking to her. I knew she wanted a relationship, but she knew my views on it. She knew that I didn't do relationships because they were too time-consuming and stopped me from living the life I wanted to live, the life of a single rich bachelor.

The ride to the bookstore took approximately fifteen minutes. Stepping out of the car, I pressed the buzzer and waited until the person at the front let me in. Hearing the buzzing sound, I opened the door and entered and was graciously blessed with seeing the beauty of a young woman who I assumed to be the cashier.

Walking up to the counter I just stood there and stared at her, taking in every single feature of her beautiful oval-shaped face. Staring into her hazel eyes I was just starting to get lost in them when I heard her ask me how she could be of assistance, taking me out of my trance. Her voice had matched her face—beautiful and angelic.

“Do you have the book titled Start with Why?” I asked her, “it's a business book,” I added after I saw the puzzled look she wore on her face.

“Oh, yes I think we do; would you like me to escort you to the business section?” she asked.

Nodding my head, yes, I allow her to lead the way. While walking, I had gotten a view of her nice plump ass that seemed to be the perfect fit for my hands when I had her bent over my desk cupping them. Chuckling at the thought that I had started fantasizing about a woman that I didn’t know but was looking forward to getting to know soon.

Reaching the business section, I saw that she was nervous by the way she was hastily trying to look for the book I asked for without being too obvious. Chuckling silently at her behavior, I continued to watch her search for the book. Finding the book, she handed it to me and said, “You should go up to the cashier to get it cash.”

Looking at her I smirked before asking, “Aren’t you the cashier?” I could tell she was embarrassed by the way her face had turned a bright shade of pink. Walking back to her station I got to see her ass again and I was enjoying the view when I saw that she started walking fast. I wonder if she knew that I was looking at her ass and thinking what I could do to her in bed, I thought.

Reaching the cash register, she hurriedly rang up my item. I was tempted to ask for her number, but I decided against it. I knew I would see her again. Taking the bag from her hand, I felt something I couldn’t explain ran through my body. It was like fire igniting my body. It was the first I was ever experiencing it, and I liked it. Giving her a wink, I walked outside the store. This woman had captured and piqued my interest as I walked into the store. Something about her was drawing me to her. I have to come back tomorrow, I told myself before I got inside the car.