Mr. CEO's Pretty 'Messy' Problem

The early morning light trickled in as Maisie Hartwell groggily opened her eyes. She froze. An arm was draped across her chest. That wasn't the main issue. The main issue was that she was in a strange room, in a bed that wasn't hers. And that wasn't even the most important part. The most important part was that she was completely naked, with a strange man beside her.

Suddenly, she was wide awake. The hangover was pounding in her head, and as the events of last night slowly came back to her, Maisie felt a desperate urge to simply cease to exist.

But when she turned to look at the man beside her, she thought, well, he wasn't so bad. Maybe she hadn't gotten the worst end of the deal after all.

He had a handsome face, and his eyelashes were so long she almost reached out to measure them. The conclusion she came to was that she desperately wanted to pluck them out.

And his thin, closed lips... they say thin-lipped men are cruel. It made sense for a guy in his line of work.

Then there was his strong, toned chest. Tsk, tsk. He probably spent all his time at the gym to attract more women. What was the world coming to? To think that men actually did this for a living and that she had been the one to hire him for the night.

Maisie quietly slipped out of bed and picked up her clothes. The last thing she wanted was a face-to-face discussion about how much she owed him for the night. She dressed as quickly as possible and found her wallet under the bed.

She had really gone all out last night, buying a round of drinks for the entire bar. She had nearly maxed out her credit card. She was going to be so broke by the end of the month.

After a moment of hesitation, Maisie pulled out a single bill and dumped the rest of the cash from her wallet onto the nightstand, along with a few coins. At the last second, Maisie glanced back at the man on the bed. He really was gorgeous.

On a whim, she pulled a notepad and a pen from her purse. She scribbled a few lines, then placed the note with the money on the nightstand. She walked out, her movements smooth and practiced.

But if you looked closely, you would have noticed something a little strange about the way Maisie was walking...

Everett Langdon woke up around ten. He reached out a hand, but the other side of the bed was cold. He opened his eyes. The room was empty except for him.

His cool gaze darkened instantly. This was a first. The first time a woman had left before him. The first time he'd slept in until ten. The first...

Everett's eyes fell on the nightstand. The first time he was the one who got paid.

And it wasn't a check. His entire night was worth only a handful of bills and a few coins. He actually picked up the money and counted it. Forty-seven dollars and fifty cents.

He also picked up the note.

Instantly, Everett's temples began to throb.

[Performance: Barely passable. Body: Average. Face: Could use a complete overhaul. Still, thanks for the effort. Hope this little tip helps!] It was signed with a smiley face.

Everett crumpled the note in his fist, a fire igniting in his chest. Someone dared to say his performance was barely passable? That his face needed a complete overhaul? Ha! Who was this audacious woman? Was there a single man in all of Valemont more handsome than him?

And this pathetic tip was supposed to be his payment? He wasn't even sure if this counted as money. What could you even do with it?

Everett threw back the covers and got out of bed. He found his phone and angrily dialed a number.

"Find the woman I slept with last night! And when you do, I want her torn to pieces and fed to the dogs!"

After speaking, Everett hurled the phone to the ground. He needed a cold shower to extinguish the rage burning inside him.

He had only taken two steps when he saw it. A few dark red stains on the pale gold sheets. Everett's brows furrowed tightly. Damn it. What the hell was that all about?

"Maisie Hartwell! Ms. Hartwell! Is this really the design you submitted? Why don't you just go home and live off your parents' money? You have the nerve to give me this? Are you trying to see how far you can push me?" The director, Tessa Reed, threw a stack of design sketches at Maisie. The papers fluttered down around her feet like snowflakes.

Maisie watched as her hard work was dismissed as worthless. She was so hurt she wanted to throw the sketches right back in Tessa's face, toss her head, and walk out with a dramatic flair.

But in the next second, Maisie was picking up the designs from the floor, forcing a smile onto her face. "Ms. Reed, I'll go revise it right away. I'm on it."

"Don't bother. Your designs won't be used anyway. We've already found someone else to help Celia. Now get out of my sight!" Tessa waved her hand dismissively.

"Someone else is already helping Celia? Who is it?" Maisie asked, unable to hide her disappointment.

Tessa looked at her pathetic expression and finally muttered a name to get rid of her.

Maisie repeated the name to herself as she walked away, but eventually, she let it go. Fine. Let the two bastards live happily ever after.

She returned to her desk with a pile of useless sketches. It was lunchtime, and her friend Isla Porter ran over from the marketing department to grab lunch with her. Maisie hoped a good meal might lift her spirits.

She ate a lot, and her wallet suffered for it. She knew this moment of indulgence would lead to a month of instant noodles. Impulse was truly the devil.

"By the way," Isla said, "the marketing department is buzzing. They say the company has a new boss, and there's going to be a huge shake-up. I'm worried about a low-level employee like me who hasn't done anything noteworthy."

"Don't worry," Maisie said, dashing Isla's hopes. "Big bosses like that just want to make a splash when they first arrive. They won't even notice a small fry like you."

"Hey, I'm still an indispensable part of the marketing team! What if this... Everett Langdon... decides to make an example of me? But I heard he has a face like a young Brad Pitt and the body of Chris Hemsworth, with the net worth of Bill Gates..."

"Please. Brad Pitt is how old now? And Chris Hemsworth? If you put them together, this guy would have to be some kind of fifty or sixty-year-old specimen. And that name, what was it again...?"

"Everett Langdon!" Isla repeated.

They were walking through the company lobby, completely unaware of the group of people following them.

"Right, right. Everett Langdon. Sounds like something out of a period drama. Let me tell you, CEOs are always these pot-bellied, bald, greasy-faced guys. The kind of domineering CEO you read about in novels is just bait for naive girls like you." Maisie was convinced this Everett Langdon was a man with a Gary Stu name but a disgusting face.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? He hasn't done anything to you, and you're already painting him as this monster. He's our new boss, you know!" Isla defended him.

"I did not..."

"Ahem..." A cough from behind them cut Maisie off.

Maisie and Isla turned around simultaneously. They saw a few men waiting for the elevator, but their backs were to them, so they couldn't see their faces.

But Maisie caught a glimpse of the man in the middle in the reflection of the elevator doors. Even in the blurry mirror, she could tell he was extraordinarily handsome. Even more handsome than the man she'd seen in bed the other day.

The thought of that man made Maisie blush.

She quickly turned her head away, her heart pounding. Isla finally pulled her into an elevator.

Just as the elevator doors were about to close, one of the men turned his head and gave Maisie and Isla a brilliant smile.

The doors closed. Isla grabbed Maisie's arm. "Oh my god, did you see that? That guy smiled at us! He's so handsome! That smile could topple cities!"

Maisie rolled her eyes at her, but she couldn't help but think he "was" handsome. When did this building get a batch of such high-quality men?

Outside the elevator, Everett stared coldly at the closed doors, silently committing their entire conversation to memory.

Bald? Greasy? Old man?

Fine. He would remember this woman.

"Design department, meeting in the conference room. Now." Tessa burst into the office area, shouting at the designers and assistants.

A few of the designers grumbled, unwilling to be bossed around by Tessa. They dragged their feet, reluctant to go to what would surely be another long, boring meeting.

"Hurry up! The new boss is here! It's Everett Langdon! If you don't go, it's your loss!" After saying this, Tessa sashayed away. Instantly, the office erupted. The people who were just complaining were now rushing out the door. Soon, only Maisie and Vivienne Royce were left.

Vivienne started to walk over to ask Maisie to go with her, but before she could take two steps, Maisie grabbed her laptop and left, leaving Vivienne standing awkwardly in the middle of the office.

Why would Maisie bother with Vivienne anymore? It was one thing for Vivienne to be chosen as the assistant for Celia's fashion show. Maisie wasn't as skilled, so who could she blame? But then Vivienne had confessed her feelings to Maisie's childhood crush, Jonas Graham. She knew perfectly well that Maisie had been planning to be with Jonas. But no, just as Maisie was about to confess her own feelings, Vivienne beat her to it. For a "best friend" like that, Maisie had only one thing to say: whatever.

Lost in thought, Maisie pushed open the conference room door with a little too much force. Everyone inside turned to look at her.

"Sorry..." Maisie apologized for her clumsiness. She wanted to sneak to an empty seat, but with everyone staring, there was no way to be discreet.

She finally sat down, placed her laptop on the table, and looked toward the head of the room to see if Isla's so-called Everett Langdon was really the pot-bellied, bald...

The moment her eyes landed on Everett, her world went dark.

Why was that escort sitting at the head of the conference table? Why was he wearing a suit? Why was Tessa bowing and scraping before him? Why...

Maisie immediately shrank back, propping her head up with one hand. Thankfully, Everett hadn't made eye contact with her. If he had, she would have been dead on the spot.

If she told Isla that she had slept with their new boss a few days ago and generously left him forty-seven dollars and fifty cents as payment, would Isla write it down and use it to mock her when they were old?

But Maisie probably wouldn't live to be old. She'd likely die at the hands of her new boss.

When the last person from the design department, Vivienne, finally arrived, the conference room door was closed. Tessa cleared her throat, signaling the start of the meeting.

Maisie hid in a corner, praying she wouldn't be noticed. Once the meeting was over, she would disappear. A big boss like him wouldn't care about a small fry like her. He probably wouldn't even come to the design department often. Out of sight, out of mind.

"First, let's welcome our new boss, Mr. Langdon..." Tessa had just begun to speak when the man beside Everett gestured for her to stop. Tessa adjusted her purple glasses and fell silent, though her eyes remained fixed on Everett.

"Today's meeting is simple. Mr. Langdon just wants to get to know everyone," the man next to Everett said. His voice was pleasant.

Maisie peeked through her fingers and saw that it was the man Isla had said had a beautiful smile. While looking at him, she snuck a glance at Everett at the head of the table.

He just sat there, exuding an aura of pressure. How on earth had she mistaken him for an escort and... done "that" with him?

At that thought, Maisie buried her head in her arms again. Just then, her phone rang unexpectedly. She had forgotten to silence it before coming in, and a cheerful ringtone filled the room. Maisie wanted to strangle Isla, the culprit.

She quickly pulled out her phone and silenced it.

A commanding voice cut through the silence. "From now on, if anyone's phone rings during a meeting, they can see themselves out."

The words startled Maisie so much that her phone slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. Everyone else in the room had the privilege of hearing Everett's voice for the first time.

They didn't resent his coldness; instead, they thought his voice was incredibly attractive.

Maisie picked up her phone and glanced at the text message. It was from Isla: [OMG, Everett is meeting with your department first! Is he handsome? Is he a total catch?]

Maisie glanced at Everett again and replied: [Could use a complete overhaul.]

Isla's girlish dreams were shattered.