Page 35 of The CEO Enemy

JESS

When I heard that Sean had arrived, I reacted without thinking. Ultimately, it was the right thing to do.

Thank goodness he’s so quick-witted and played his role as my fiancé to perfection. That kiss—okay, more like a peck—was purely accidental (thanks, cosmic energies!), and, believe it or not, it ended up playing out perfectly.

In no way could I let Richard think I was sitting around, all depressed, still pining after him while he looked better than ever, all smug and mighty. He didn’t even try to conceal the fact he’s the most successful hotelier on the planet—conceited prick—and most likely privately incredibly happy too.

Sure, my initial instinct was to kick him out, but that’s something young Jess would have done. Behaving emotionally like that would only boost his stupid ego, letting him believe I still had feelings for him. I don’t. Not anymore.

The other reason I gave Richard a few minutes was my curiosity about the offer he wanted to present, and honestly, the deep satisfaction of telling him to screw off, no matter what he offered. It felt fantastic to say no.

My fake engagement was the cherry on top. Richard and his “un-refusable offer” were out of there like a bullet.

Ha!

Fuck you very much!

But now, there’s this charity event I must attend with my new fake fiancé. Skipping it would raise suspicions.

I sit, thinking about Sean’s offer.

I think of sitting on a beach, slurping some colorful ice-cold concoction.

One never knows how the economy will turn. Right now, we’re making a little profit and keeping up with expenses—but that could easily change. I’m aware I’m very much in a David and Goliath situation. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna put up a fight, if necessary, but I know I have to think about what would be better for the business in the long run. And mostly, what would be best for my staff.

In the late afternoon, once Sean has left for Blackwood, I call Norman and tell him that Sean wants to buy me out.

“I was afraid of that,” he admits. It sounds like there is wind and waves in the background.

“You were? Geez, thanks, Norman.”

“Which is why I made it a point to tell him that you won’t sell.”

I lay out the pros and cons, tell him that I’m not a fan of the idea of being beholden to anyone, let alone Mr. Blackwood and a faceless board I haven’t met.

“I don’t envy you having to make that decision,” Norman says after listening carefully. “If he offers you what he offered me, you’d recoup twice your life savings you invested. But keep in mind that Sean Blackwood is a very smart and incredibly powerful man. He didn’t get to where he is by making emotional decisions. So, if you decide to sell and stay, don’t let your heart sway you when dealing with him. I don’t wanna see you get hurt again.”

Norman knows how shattered I was when my ex dumped me and robbed me of my dream. It’s his way of subtly cautioning me to not fall for Sean Blackwood, not lose my heart to him, not to repeat my past.

“I appreciate that,” I say confidently, “but you don’t have to worry about me. He’s a CEO. He has a VIP seat in the ‘Above All, No Way!’ section. Besides, any feelings, emotional or physical, are long gone.”

When I get home in the late evening, before even stepping foot in my apartment, I stop at Sean’s door. Having made my decision, I want to start the morning off with a clean slate and a clear direction on where we’re going.

I knock on his door.

It takes him a second to open. When he does, I have a brief déjà vu of him being stark naked—and I have to squeeze my legs together at the memory—but alas, he’s not (dang it).

Instead, I get the sense he’s just gotten home.

His suit jacket is gone, as is his tie. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt are rolled up past his strong, manly elbows and the top three buttons have been undone, revealing just the barest hint of chest hair and a tattoo. I try not to stare. Try not to think about him rolling those sleeves up over his muscular, tattooed arms (a geometric design spreading across his shoulders and chest) as he walks toward me, a hungry, smoldering look in his eyes. My body reacts instantly, and I involuntarily clench around nothing, thinking of his thick fingers.

No. Nope.

Wrong time and wrong place.

Also, wrong person. He’s not that same stranger from the bar.

He’s the man who’s more than off limits, and in more ways than one.

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