Mr. CEO(34)

“Here we are Miss Harrison,” he says easily.

I give him a warm smile and say, “Thank you.” I wish I could remember his name, but I don’t. I climb out and wince. I’m sore and aching, all thanks to Logan. My smile grows. It’s a good feeling, being deliciously used. I shut the door and give the driver a polite wave.

As I walk up to my apartment, I slowly feel better. I think it was just the drive maybe? The idea that it was a walk of shame of sorts. But being back here and knowing it was my choice makes me feel more at ease with the decision. The keys clink in my hands as I unlock the door.

I freeze when I open the door, nearly passing out onto the floor.

Ian and Sarah are sitting on the living room couch, practically making out. Sarah, who’s dressed in the skankiest outfit I’ve ever seen, has her hands on Ian’s crotch, rubbing it like it’s a pot of gold and Ian is running his hands all over her body.

What the f*ck?

They stop when they see me standing in the doorway, glaring at them with a mix of hatred and shock. My gut reaction is to scream at them and tell them to get the f*ck out, but I know better. Ian isn’t going anywhere, especially with Sarah here, and he’s more liable to throw me out than to sit there and listen to me badmouth him.

“Do you mind?” Sarah snaps nastily, her hand still on Ian’s crotch. Tears prick my eyes. She was my friend for so long. My grip on the doorknob tightens as Ian grins at Sarah, kissing her on the forehead as if she’s done a good job snapping at me.

I grit my teeth and then bite my tongue, chanting internally to myself to stay calm, cool and collected. Ignore the pain and be the bigger person. I need to call the f*cking landlord again, too. I swear to God if he put his name on the lease at some point when we were together I’ll loose it, but I can’t imagine there’s any other reason that he’d be in here right now.

Fuck this. I don’t have time for this. I need to get to work.

It takes everything in me, but I manage to tear my eyes away from them and I continue on to my room. Behind me, I hear them say something about me and laugh. I just ignore it and go about getting ready for work.

I take a quick shower, scrubbing my skin harder than I should and am dressed in my business attire within fifteen minutes. My hair’s damp, but I just throw it into a bun. I have an hour-long drive anyway, so it can dry on the way.

I stare at myself in the mirror, not wanting to go back out there. I don’t want to have to deal with this. When I finally decide I have to get the hell out and walk down the hall, I hear banging sounds coming from the second bedroom and Sarah moaning at the top of her lungs as if she wants the entire world to hear.

I ball my hands into fists, anger threatening to overwhelm me. My jaw clenches, and I’m overwhelmed by all the emotions consuming me. I’m not going to cry. I refuse to cry and scream and give them the reaction they’re hoping for. I’m not going to give them the satisfaction and engage them with their bullshit.

In fact, I’m over this. I take confident strides to the front door and I don’t look back. Fuck them. I’m moving on with my life. They can have each other.

Grabbing my briefcase, I walk out of the apartment, Sarah’s pleasured cries trailing me, with one thought on my mind.

I guess I’ll be applying for that temporary housing after all.



I drive to work and I’m pissed the entire drive, my mood dark and gloomy. I hate the fact that they got to me. I’d be a liar if I said I was unaffected, but I plan to remedy that very soon. The first chance I get, I’m putting in for temporary housing.

The image of them going at it will haunt me for some time, so I’m going to have to busy myself to forget it. I refuse to let those two *s f*ck up my day and distract me from my job.

Wearing a scowl on my face, I walk inside Parker-Moore and make my way up to my office. There’s a stack of papers waiting on my desk when I walk in and I feel like it’s just what I need. Bury myself in work, and at the same time bury Ian and Sarah. A win-win.

I set my coat and purse down and go get coffee from the break room before returning to look through contracts and emails.

Over the next half hour, I find myself immersed in work and I lose track of the time. I’m just finishing up working data into a sales graph on my laptop when my cell rings.

“Just when things were starting to get good,” I grumble in annoyance. Busying myself in work has made me feel much better and it reminds me of how much I love my job. It's been the perfect antidote to forget about Ian.

For a moment, I debate ignoring the call. It can’t be anyone important, but curiosity gets the best of me. I pull it out and glance at the caller ID. Anger surges through my chest. It’s f*cking Ian.

Why the hell is he calling me?

It annoys me that he’s back in my mind after I’d just managed to get him out of it. Scowling, I tap the ignore button on my phone and toss it to the side. I don’t know what Ian wants, but I really don’t care. I’m done with him.

I try to get back to work, but now I can’t focus. I’m too irritated. Ian had no business calling me, and it’s brought back that dark feeling that was finally starting to go away. I find myself wishing I had something or someone to make me forget my awful morning.

Logan.

The thought of Mr. CEO fills me with desire and pushes Ian out of my mind. The session we had the night before was mind-blowing, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing right this second. Is he working, busy running his company? Or is he up in his office, thinking of me?