Page 1 of CEO April: Zed Barker
Chapter One
Note: These naughty novellas are erotica. Not erotic romance, which is a different concept that has a longer story line (if you want story line and naughty, look up The Facilitator). These are short stories focussed on one fantasy.
My back ached and my eyes hurt. I rubbed at them, squinting in the gloom at the document on my laptop screen. Words were swimming on the page, such was the level of tiredness I felt.
“Zed, you need to stop now,” I heard. I looked up to see Rebecca standing at my office doorway.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Gone seven and you’ve been here twelve straight hours. That book must be a cracker since you’ve read nothing else.”
Rebecca smiled. Her blue hair with the pink tips had started to form the dreadlocks she wanted. Her pink tutu over her black leggings matched the ends of her hair.
“I like the tutu,” I said, laughing. That morning she had arrived with fairy wings. To say Rebecca was eccentric was probably an understatement.
She twirled in the doorway, her Dr. Martens squealed as they stuck to the tiled floor. “Quit, Zed. The book will be there tomorrow.”
I shut the lid of my laptop and smiled. “Remind me to book an eye appointment, and I really could do with a break.”
“You need a weekend away where you can’t work, I’d say.”
“You’re right. I just don’t have the time to do anything about that.”
“Then leave it to me,” she said, waving her fairy wand as if she could magic up a weekend break for me. I laughed as she skipped off.
When I’d arrived in London from the States, Rebecca had been somewhat of a surprise. I wasn’t American, I was born in the UK, but I’d moved to the States to work in a publishing house ten years prior. I’d ended up buying that publishing house when it got into financial trouble and also opened a UK imprint. I always knew I’d return to the UK at some point, and the disaster that became my relationship with Heidi was the perfect opportunity to do so.
It reminded me, she was due to call for her monthly argument about the apartment or the dog or something else that irritated her. We had agreed to part company, it had been amicable at first, until she realised she might have to work to pay for all the things she believed she was entitled to.
I sighed. She was the last person I needed to speak to. As I left the office I thought back on what Rebecca had said. Perhaps I would let her book me a weekend away. If someone else did it, it would get done. I wouldn’t have a hundred excuses as to why I didn’t have the time for something I desperately needed. It was with a slightly lighter step that I made my way home.
* * *
The following morning, after a long and deep night’s sleep, I headed back to work, stopping to grab a tray of coffees for the office. We were a small publishing company but a highly successful one. We wouldn’t compete with The Big Five of course, but we have a couple of Pulitzer Prize winners on our books, and more manuscripts to wade through than we had time or members of staff. It was one such manuscript that had kept me enthralled for the past few days. A romance, something I don’t normally commission, but one with a difference. It was a life story but not autobiographical. It was gripping and one I knew I wanted to sign up. I found I was walking a little quicker than normal, wanting to get back to the story.
“Morning. You look a little better, not so much a dog’s dinner,” I heard.
I shook my head and smiled while handing over the tray of coffees to Rebecca. I grabbed mine and walked into my office. That day she was dressed as if she’d stepped from a 1950’s movie. Her hair was curled tight to her head, her dress appeared authentic, vintage, and the look suited her.
“Oh, I have something for you,” she called after me.
“You look fabulous, by the way,” I replied.
I’d just sat in my chair when Rebecca placed a piece of paper with an address on my desk.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking it up and frowning at the address in Cornwall.
“Your weekend away. You leave on Friday.”
“Friday, as in tomorrow?” I asked, confused.
“Yes, Friday as in tomorrow.” She stood with her hands on her hips. “Everything is taken care of here.”
“Where am I going?”
“You’ll find out when you get there, won’t you?” She smirked and cocked one eyebrow.
I wasn’t sure I trusted Rebecca enough to not need more information, but by her stance it didn’t look like I was going to get any.
“Friday, as in tomorrow,” I said slowly and then laughed. “What if I hate it?” I asked, as she sashayed from my office.
She looked over her shoulder, cocking her hip like a movie star. “Then you leave.”
I stared at the paper as if it would give me a clue. Rebecca’s handwriting was as eccentric as her. Often it was difficult to read, that day, it was all in block caps. I typed in the address and found myself on Google Maps. It was a pretty country lane; I could see various properties dotted along the road with the beach behind. I decided, though, I wanted the surprise so I disconnected.
I couldn’t remember a time, other than as a child, when someone had booked aneventfor me. I became quite excited. I could read, relax, drink wine, and do nothing for a couple of days. Totally recharge. I started to look forward to it.
