Mr. CEO(55)

Logan’s already on stage taking questions from reporters. I can’t get over how professional he looks in his business suit, his hair slicked back. For the first time, he actually looks like who he is. The Boss.

The CEO.

Before I can take my assigned seat on the platform behind the podium, a reporter, a man who looks like he’s in his mid-thirties in khaki pants and a plaid shirt, asks, “Mr. Parker, can you tell us how long the affair was with Miss Harrison?”

Anger grips my throat and it’s hard to keep a straight face. I knew questions like this would come up, but it’s still hard not to react. Eva grips my hand tighter and I walk straight ahead, not looking at the audience and slowly falling into my seat.

I watch as Logan clenches his jaw and I can tell he’s trying to keep from blowing a gasket. “I’m not going to answer that question,” he responds, his voice tight. “I keep my personal and business life separate, and this press conference is strictly for business.”

The man doesn’t give up. “But can’t you see that what you engaged in is alarming for your company and the stockholders? As head of your company, you should--”

“I said I’m not here to talk about personal matters,” Logan says and lowers his voice. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He scans his gaze over the reporters in the room and says, “I will only entertain questions that pertains to Parker-Moore’s business dealings.”

“But what happened has hurt your company’s image,” the reporter argues, ignoring Logan’s request. “You need to address this issue unless you want to create further damage to your brand.”

Logan clenches and unclenches his jaw, anger evident as the veins stand out on his neck. I don’t think I ever seen him so angry.

Logan stands there for several moments before saying through gritted teeth, “I’m only going to address this once.” Flashes of photos being taken seem to pick up as Logan responds. My heart beats frantically and I try desperately just to stay in my place, remembering the advice from public relations. “The photos that have been circulated involving myself and Miss Harrison were taken with the intent to hurt myself personally as well as Parker-Moore.” He huffs, “A rival of sorts. They can try to slander my name all they want, but what they did was wrong and charges are being pressed. And that’s all I’m going to say on this issue.”

I hear a mocking laugh in the audience and I scan the crowd to see who it is. I do a double take. It’s Patterson. I’ve seen his picture over and over now that I know who it was that destroyed me without a second thought. He has an evil f*cking smirk on his face that makes me want to punch him. “You better watch those accusations, Logan, before you have a lawsuit on your hands. We all know who the ‘rival’ is that you’re talking about, and as far as I know, you have no proof of any wrongdoing on my part.”

Logan stands at the podium radiating anger, and the intensity is enough to still my breathing. He stares down Patterson but says nothing. He looks deadly, but Patterson ignores the warning.

“You got caught banging your secretary, and now you’re trying to blame me for it... It’s obvious you only gave her the job so you could bang her.”

I rise from my seat without my own conscious consent and try to dive for Logan as he climbs off the stage and into the crowd of reporters. He’s furious, and he’s snapped. Adrenaline pumps through my blood and my body heats. No! The entire room lets out a collective gasp. His face going white, Patterson tries to scramble over several people to get away from the raging Logan, but he’s too slow. Logan climbs over two people and the metal chairs are tossed out of the way as the crowd disperses, moving away from Logan’s target. He grabs Patterson by the collar, yanking him close. I can’t see everything, but I can see the first punch. Logan has him on the ground. Fuck! The room erupts into chaos, and the crowd surrounds the two men, shouting and yelling and snapping pictures. I can barely breathe as I push through the crowd.

“Logan!” I yell, my heart beating within my chest like a war drum. There’s no way Logan is leaving this room without handcuffs. And even worse, this is going to cause more damage to Parker-Moore than the erotic photos of us ever will. I try to reach him, but I keep getting shoved back. I can’t let him do this. I have to stop him.

I’m pushed back against a tide of bodies and am nearly trampled as I stumble off balance. Logan could end up killing Patterson, but all these vultures care about is getting their precious photos to sell to the highest bidder.

“Logan! Stop!” I scream, regaining my balance and trying to push my way through to him. I’m not sure if he heard me, but the crowd parts behind the fight, and I stand as tall as I can to see why.

Bloody and covered in sweat, he begins pushing his way through the crowd of shouting reporters. He’s silent and heaving in his breaths. Ignoring everyone and heading toward the exit.

Not wasting any time, I chase after him, shoving and pushing my way through anyone that gets in the way.

When I make it outside, there are a crowd of reporters crowding Logan, snapping pictures left and right.

“Logan!” I yell, running in my heels and trying to get his attention. But he doesn’t see me, and he doesn’t hear me; he’s too busy rushing toward the sidewalk where his limo awaits. I watch as Andrew gets out of the vehicle and rushes around to the passenger side, opening the door and holding it open for Logan.