Page 8 of Mr. Hotshot CEO
Chapter 3
Julian
Even though I didn’tset an alarm, I wake up at five o’clock on Friday morning.
In an attempt to fill some of my free time, I try to go back to sleep, but at five thirty, I’m still awake, so I get out of bed and start my usual routine. Working out, eating breakfast, reading the news. Vince has confiscated most of my electronics, but I still have my desktop at home, surprisingly enough. So I could, in fact, do some work if I wanted to.
Well, I’ll save that for later, for when I’m really desperate.
I make myself another espresso and sit back in my recliner with a copy ofLike Water for Chocolatein Spanish.Como agua para chocolate.
I’m still reading at nine o’clock when Elena, my housekeeper, comes in. She’s about my mom’s age, but unlike my mother, she has three grandchildren, whom she likes to talk about the rare times I see her. Most of the time, I’m at work when she’s here.
“I can hardly believe my eyes!” she says, putting her hands to her cheeks and opening her mouth wide in an exaggerated expression of surprise. “You’re home on a weekday!”
“Unfortunately, yes. Not by choice, I assure you.”
“I know,” she says. “Your mother told me all about her plan.”
“You approve?”
“Of course I do. You work too hard. You need some time off.”
Hmph. Everyone’s on the same side but me. What’s wrong with hard work?
“I’ll make you something for lunch today,” she says. “What would you like?”
“Whatever you want. We’ll eat together, and you can tell me about your grandchildren.”
I need to fill the time somehow.
* * *
By three o’clock inthe afternoon, I’ve read more than half ofComo agua para chocolateand watched two episodes of a telenovela. I’ve also eaten too much moussaka, talked to Elena for an hour, spent another hour in the gym, and tried to pull out most of my hair.
That’s it. I’m going to the office. I’d planned to stay away until Tuesday, but I can’t stand this any longer.
I put on a suit and embark on the ten-minute walk to Fong Investments. We have several floors in a building in the financial district. As I take the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor, I can feel serenity seeping into my veins. Yes, this is where I belong.
