Page 13 of Handling the CEO

“Sienna—nothing interesting, but that was pretty much it. The girl had the personality of a chair. Doesn’t seem to take a hint though, kept texting—sometimes only emojis for fuck’s sake—had to block her number.”

“What’s wrong with emojis?” he asks, confused. “Did you just say ‘personality’? You want ‘personality’ now? A couple of years back, I couldn’t find you under the mountain of pussy fighting over you. Look at you—rich, good-looking, what’s the point of ‘personality’?”

“Not everything is about sticking one’s cock in, Nate. The more I go through these women, the more I realize it’s more to living than just pussy. Though I admit, I have been known to take what’s on offer.” Again, I think of a fiery woman who jumped in my arms.

“Occasionally, I would like to have a conversation with them, maybe have a laugh,” I continue. “All these faceless girls in my life… I mistakenly thought that Sienna was a bit more than she pretended, with her psychology degree and all that. It appears her daddy’s money bought that paper, and all she psychoanalyzes is the latest ‘Housewives of whatever’ episode. Also, there is a lot going on at work nowadays—my EA is an idiot and Miranda started stealing my suppliers!” I vent.

“Jon, my man, from what I can hear, a woman is exactly what you need! I could also use a distraction, to be fair. But I have no interest in anything serious just now, you know I can’t lose focus. Speaking of… do not turn—I call dibs! There is a total smoke show nursing a vodka tonic sitting by herself at a table out back! Shit—some dude sat down across from her... darn!”

I laugh at his antics, as he always finds himself someone for the night wherever he may be. Like me, he has his own business—producing playing cards and other commodities for casinos and card clubs. He has no intention of settling down due to reasons of his own, which I understand well, having known the man since high school. Ignoring his advice, I look to see who this stunner is, and when I spot who it is, I almost crush the glass in my hand.

Black leather skirt so tight, high heeled leather boots, a black top with an open back with a long necklace hanging down her spine. Dark hair done up on top of her head. Brown eyes whose burn I know too well. But what makes me really want to break my glass, or possibly that guy’s face, is the fact that Dahlia Jara is on fucking DATE!

She is explaining something quite animatedly and the dude just sits there nodding his head, probably not understanding a word she says. Kind of good-looking but a bit plain, with chestnut hair, blue shirt and cheap shoes. He seems to have gotten her a red rose, but as it lies there discarded on the table tells me she wasn’t too impressed. Which makes me unintentionally pleased.

“Jon? Mate? What are you staring at, that chick I called dibs on? Hot right?” Nathan prompts from next to me.

“No dibs, I know her. You don’t want to go there.” I growl and turn back to my friend before I go over to her table and throw that guy out. The last thing I need is my friend getting interested in her with his easy smile, baby-blue eyes and panty-dropping Irish brogue.

“AAAAH, I see—where did you meet her? App?” He smirks, but is still gawking at her and is about five minutes from getting his eyeballs removed from his head.

“Work,” I answer. “She works for me on a new software.”

“Ah, so smart and sexy… so what is she doing with that tool? She doesn’t seem that into him, frankly. You want to get in there? Suspect the dude will pee his pants and run if you just walk over.” He shrugs.

“It’s not like that. She’s too irritating. And opinionated.” I have been trying to convince myself. “Plus, I will repeat myself—she works for me!”

“I see. She’s smart and sexy, understands your job and challenges you. Horrible combination.” Nate shakes his head and looks at me strangely. “Well, in that case, you may not want to know she just touched her date’s arm.”

I turn so fast I almost spill my beer, but the man she was with is no longer there and I notice the woman heading towards the bar.

“Made you look! Man! I haven’t seen you like this before. Hilarious! Anyway, I think I could use another drink. Shall I go get some?” he snickers, clearly implying something else. But I will not let my flighty friend tangle with… an employee of mine. NOT. AT. ALL.

“I’ll go get them!” I declare and dash out of my chair before Nathan says another word and plans a path to the bar on the other side. I am convinced I can hear him laughing behind me but unsure of what he finds so amusing.

Making my way through the throng of people to order our drinks, I spot Dahlia trying to get the bartender’s attention. Unfortunately, before I get there, I am intercepted by possibly the last person I want to run into.

“O.M.G! Something must be wrong with your phone, Jon! I have been texting you non-stop! I miss youuuu! I hoped you’d be here tonight. I came specifically for you!” My ex basically throws herself at me and I try to keep her off me. But it’s harder than it should be with the crowd around the bar, so keeping the blonde off me is proving problematic.

“Sienna—we broke up. You need to stop texting me. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get to the bar.” I try dodging her again, but she parks herself in front of me.

“Ha, we did not break up. You just needed a moment, but I am ready to take you back now!” She smiles like she is making any sense and pushes up her boobs, her warped mind driving her to think this will somehow persuade me that she isn’t certifiable.

“OK, I don’t think you understand me—we are O.V.E.R.” If I spell it out for her maybe, she will finally get it.

An irritating laugh comes out of her, “Oh silly Jon, you are sooooo funny!” She tries again to touch me but I bat her hand away. I internally start cursing what life choices got me to this point when I hear a throaty siren voice next to me.

“Oh, honey,” she purrs, “sorry it took so long. The bar was sooooo busy. Oh, and who are you? Do they let minors in nowadays?” Dahlia Jara slides her hand around my waist and throws a slightly unhinged smile at my ex.

Sienna squints at her shell-shocked, and then at me—who finally tweaked what is going on—putting my arm around Dahlia’s back, feeling her silky skin against my hand. But the lunatic in front of us doesn’t seem to get a hint and doubles down on her craziness.

“Jon, if you wanted a threesome, you could have just said. I have some old cheerleader friends I can call!”

I blank, speechless at that comeback, but then the woman I am holding starts laughing so hard I almost have to keep her upright. Not that I mind, that is. She is soft and warm and smells fantastic, of coconut and vanilla. She looks up at me with an evil grin.

“What do you think, honey? An orgy with some cheerleaders? Maybe they can bring their pom-poms?” She then turns her head to my former girlfriend, “But not you sweetie, you are not my type, with all the spray tan, all the chemicals are just a big no-no for me. I’ll take your friend’s phone number, though.”

Then back at me in an exaggerated stage whisper, “Are there any male cheerleaders? I know howyouappreciate a bit of variety,” she adds, winking at me.

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