Page 12 of Handling the CEO

“She was a model and my dad’s wife,” he says abruptly, like a band-aid coming off.

“Umm, OK, that was absolutely not what I was expecting you to say,” I admit in shock. “Without sounding totally anti-feminist, how does a model end up CEO of an aviation company—and a rival aviation company at that?”

He is thinking again, this time looking at me, assessing me like an opponent in chess.

“Deceit.” Is his only answer and I see him getting worked up again, with possibly steam coming out of his ears.

“Riiight, I see the word count is getting lower by the second. Suspect only grunting will follow.”

He only glares, proving me the bar was set too high.

“Two days,” he snips at me instead.

“Have the fumes got to your head? What are you talking about?”

“Be in the office two days a week. I want to see progress reports weekly on the software. Also, I want to hear what your ex-husband may or may not want by working with Miranda.”

I glare back.

Normally I would counter, but Jon seems to want to compromise, and I feel that probably I may give him one, despite his avoidance of telling me the full story with his nemesis.

“Fine, I’ll be there on Tuesday. Now I really need to go as we almost had a normal conversation, so I think the sky will fall shortly.”

As I move to collect my tools and put my glasses back in my purse, he just stays there, putting his head in his hands like he is at the end of his tether. For no reason I care to admit to myself, I turn to him and give a concession.

“The reason Richard is with Lex Aviation is probably the same as what you gave me about Miranda—he is a deceitful son of a bitch who has been lying to me for years. Based on your reactions, Miranda is pretty much on the same bandwidth so them together isn’t good news. What I will do—seeing as you insist on dragging me into the office—is check your mainframe and see if anyone downloaded or sent anything suspicious.”

He looks taken aback by my offer.

“You would do that?” he asks in shock, which makes me roll my eyes at him. “Thank you, that means a lot,” Jon continues in a softer, heartfelt tone, which makes me go a bit soft myself. “They won’t know what hit them, eh?” He chuckles and runs his fingers through his hair.

Him being playful makes me all gooey inside.

“Hey—I will not let them win now, am I?” I smile and he freezes.

“That is the first genuine smile I got from you,” he says quietly, eyes ablaze with want. Everything between us is coming in like a tsunami, the attraction and the ‘more’ I didn’t want to admit to my sister and definitely not to myself.

“Jon…” I start while not knowing how to end the sentence, but he takes the words I didn’t want to say right out of my mouth.

“I know, I know, can’t happen,” he says, rapping his fingers again on the wing. “I will see you on Tuesday.” He ducks, or more specifically sprints down under the plane, and the casual dismissal gives me an uncomfortable feeling I do not want to name.

I need to get out of there to regroup, maybe slap myself a couple of times for knowing damn well nothing should develop between us, but craving it just the same. I do not understand how just being near him confuses me so. Especially since half the time he is still so perplexing.

But as I walk towards the exit, I feel an absurd need to turn and when I do, he is looking at me and smiles. My dumb heart of mine causes me to grin too. One of the mechanics interrupts Jon to ask him something and I snap myself out of it, as despite what I was thinking last weekend, this can’t go anywhere. I won’t risk having my reputation affected again after how Richard played it at Hove.

I will go open Tinder and find myself a date for Saturday instead, as I really need to think about someone else.

Jon

“Letmetellyou,last weekend I got with the hottest girl—you wouldn’t believe it! Legs for days, double Ds!” My best friend Nathan, as always, entertains me with too many details of his latest conquest.

“Yeah, yeah. Supermodel of the week, I hear you!” I nurse my lonely beer as I look around the bar on a busy Saturday night.

Didn’t particularly want to come out but Nathan travels a lot so he isn’t regularly free to go out and I decided I could use a distraction. Several women are checking us out, but I am not feeling it. Thoughts of the smile of a particular brunette are still fresh in my mind. And a tint of regret on how I acted like an oaf when she surprised me by asking about Miranda, poking at things I preferred not to get into with her so fast.

“Why is this bar so packed, man? I think half of Kerrington is trying to squeeze inside tonight. And lots of reporters, too,” I comment, surveying the room.

“Well, it is the most popular place in town. As we always come here, I didn’t even consider going anywhere else. It’s pretty much our regular Saturday night when I am in. Ah, and Firebrand, you know, the rock band had a concert nearby, so many people went to that, and probably the press too. And now they are drinking. But enough about the fucking scenery, man. What happened to... what’s her name? Sara? Simone?” Nathan inquires, taking a swig out of his beer.

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