Page 36 of The CEO Enemy

An elegant African American woman emerges from his apartment, walking toward the front door. She wears an expensive outfit, and her makeup is flawless. A wave of “oh, no” hits me.

Who is she?

An intense feeling of jealousy almost overwhelms me as I stare at her. Oh, my green monster is fierce!

Is that his girlfriend? Did I just interrupt something?

It’s only her clothing style that hints at her age. With that smooth skin of hers, she could well be in her late thirties. Sean, he’s likely somewhere in his early forties.

By the looks of her, she takes good care of herself. Unlike me, she has not one extra pound on her. Is that his type?

When she walks past him, she touches his arm, saying, “The copies are on your desk, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Thanks, Jasmine.” Sean goes to introduce me to his PA, Jasmine Williams, and from the conversation with the beautiful, lively woman, I gather that she only dropped by to obtain his signature for an urgent business deal that came through shortly after he’d left the office.

Thank goodness.

Relief washes over me as she walks toward the elevator. Not that I care whether he has a girlfriend or not.

We’re strictly business.

“You’re really making this a habit,” he says once the elevator door closes, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t know whether to be concerned or flattered.”

“Neither. I just wanted to let you know that I accept your offer. The one about working together, not the one about selling,” I quickly add. “Not right now at least.”

He raises his eyebrow but remains silent.

“Well, see,” I continue, “I appreciate your proposal, and I’m open to exploring this option. But here’s what I suggest: instead of an immediate sale, let’s have a trial period where I join your team as an employee. This will allow both of us to assess how well this arrangement fits.”

Sean studies me carefully for a moment. “Go on.”

“Ninety days. That’s the trial period I suggest. If, at the end of these ninety days, things go smoothly, I’m willing to commit to becoming a long-term, dedicated employee within your organization, and I’ll proceed with selling my shares to you—after re-negotiating your offer, that is.”

The firm lines of his lips turn up at the corners. “Fourteen days. Let’s do fourteen days. Some wars have been shorter than ninety days.”

“Well, this isn’t war.” Or is it? “Sixty days,” I counter.

He remains firm. “Fourteen days. It’s the perfect adaptation time frame to introduce the transitional changes.”

“Let’s not jump the gun. We might need more days to adjust. Let’s do forty.”

“Fourteen.”

“Jesus, Sean! Don’t be such a stubborn mule. Give me at least a month.”

I bet nobody has ever dared to sass him like that during business negotiations. His mouth curves almost into a smile, and his expression mirrors a silent “look who’s talking.”

“One month,” I repeat, poking his chest. Surprisingly, he lets out a growly chuckle. Since when does the man chuckle?

“Done,” he agrees, and we shake on it.

His grip is firm, and a tingling sensation runs through my body as his hand envelops mine, akin to a subtle electric current. He holds on for a moment, and then he lets go, sealing the agreement.

Despite my satisfaction, I get a sense that I made it way too easy for him.

The idea of Sean being my boss still doesn’t sit well with me, at least not yet, and even less so with a significantly shorter trial period, but hey, I can deal.

“Perfect,” I tell him, disregarding the fact he not only halved my suggestion but reduced it by a third. Nevertheless, it could have been an outright refusal. A month is preferable to a flat-out rejection.

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