Page 22 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
And if I know what’s good for myself, I’ll stuff those feelings deep, deep down, into the darkest place they can go.
Oscar might have liked me at one point, but it’s clear that his true love is the bottom line. That’s probably why he left Organic Now — he didn’t think it would rake in the money he was so hungry for. And even tonight, during off-hours in this dark kitchen, all he can think about is work.
The truth is there’s no room for competition.
Without another word, I turn and walk out onto the patio, leaving Oscar alone in his beautiful, empty mansion.
CHAPTER 9
OSCAR
The pounding in my head matches the rhythm of my heart — steady, relentless, and utterly painful. I roll over in bed, squinting against the morning light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom. A bird chirps on a branch outside, and if the window were open, I would throw a pillow at it.
"Fuck," I groan, pressing my palms against my temples.
Last night's events come rushing back. The party. Alice. Her words cutting through me like glass.
"You can’t stop thinking about work, can you?”
I'd stayed up after everyone left, drowning myself in expensive scotch, as if the burning sensation down my throat could somehow cauterize the wound her words had left.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I reach for it, wincing at the bright screen. A calendar reminder: Team Building Event, 9:00 AM, Laser Hut.
"Perfect," I mutter, dragging myself to a sitting position.
This team building was my idea, but now that we’re here the last thing I want today is to play at some laser tag facility. But I'm the boss now, the face of the company. And that means showing up, hangover and all.
By the time I make it downstairs to the breakfast nook, Ramona, my housekeeper, has breakfast waiting, and the smell of coffee is both nauseating and essential.
"Rough night, Mr. Glynn?" she asks, setting down a plate of avocado toast and eggs.
"Something like that," I reply, managing a weak smile.
Ramona’s been with me for five years now, since I bought this house to get away from the city. She's seen me through countless late nights and early mornings, boardroom victories and personal defeats. Sad to say, my housekeeper/cook might be the person who knows me best.
Which is something I try not to think too much about… because that might mean I don’t really have any friends.
"Advil's already on your plate, sir. And I made the coffee extra strong."
I swallow the pills with a gulp of water. "You're a lifesaver."
"That's what you pay me for," she says with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen, already humming a tune.
I force down half the breakfast and drink the coffee black, letting the bitterness match my mood. By 9:30, I'm in my car, navigating into Seattle traffic, sunglasses shielding my sensitive eyes from the unusually bright day.
Laser Hut is a massive warehouse converted into a neon-lit playground, the kind of place that I’ve never been to, but that I’ve heard is perfect for events like this. As I pull into the parking lot, I spot groups of Rooted Pantry employees already gathering outside, the mood light and cheery.
And there, among them… is Alice.
Even with my brain pounding against my skull, my eyes find her like a compass finding north. She's wearing dark jeans and a fitted gray t-shirt, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. And that laugh… her whole face is lit up as she giggles at something Sydney just said… until she sees me, and the smile drops right off.
She turns away deliberately, breaking eye contact as if I'm not worth acknowledging.
Fine. Two can play that game.
Pasting on my best Team Leader smile, I approach the group. "Good morning, everyone! Ready for some friendly competition?"
My greeting is met with a chorus of responses, some enthusiastic, some obligatory. Alice says nothing.
