Page 14 of Possessive CEO

I fist his coat and throw him to the floor, almost reminiscent of what I did to Emily’s former boss. At first, he’s angry—and drunk—but when he sees me, he slumps back on the floor, his face a mask of horror. Not too brave now, are we?

Crouching in front of him, I grab his lapels and lift him off the floor. He’s almost as big as me but no match, especially since fury is pumping in my veins. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

“I was…I was just having a…a little chat.”

I wrap my hand around his throat, and he whimpers like the pathetic bitch he is. “That was more than a little chat and with my girl no less.”

He flinches as if I’ve hit him, his mouth and chin trembling. “I…I didn’t know, Mr. Erickson. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Putting him down, I make a show of fixing his tie before I hit him square in the face. “You’re fired, whoever you are. Don’t force yourself on women, especially mine. Makes you look like the loser you are.”

He responds with more pleas, but I ignore him. Emily’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but when she meets my eye, she sighs with relief. I kiss her forehead and let her scent ground me. Anger is still curling hot and unstoppable in my gut, and if we don’t leave now, I might just do more bodily harm to the asshole who dared to corner her and think he deserves to breathe the same air she does.

Reynolds scurries over to tell me the car’s ready if I want to leave.

A couple of women are in our way, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see they’re gossiping. I’m about to tell Emily we should just go home because we’ve had enough socializing for the day, but she’s staring at the group, blinking rapidly as tears gather in her eyes.

“Oh my God, where did he find her? I heard she’s a barista. Wow. Does he like his coffee that much?”

“She’s so trashy she made that dress look cheap! She doesn’t even belong here. What does she know?”

“Right? All this time, I thought his standards were impossibly high. Turns out the bar’s in hell!”

“Maybe we can ask her to our next luncheon date and have her prepare our coffees. She’s good at that!”

“I can’t even bear to be in the same room as her. Makes me feel filthy!”

They all laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Raising my voice, I make sure it’s loud enough for them to hear. “You hear that, Reynolds? Keep that in mind when you’re sending out invitations for our next event.”

The women turn in unison and a few of them actually have the grace to blush and look away. I recognize one of them and turn to her. “Your husband’s been calling me all week.”

Visibly relieved by the change of topic, she beams like she didn’t just insult my girl. “Yes! He’s been wondering when you’ll get together for golf.”

I wrap an arm around Emily and pull her closer to my side. “Since you’re here, you can pass on my message. He can forget all about it because I will never do business with men whose wives disrespect my girl.”

I don’t wait for her response and lead Emily outside. I’m driving this time. After buckling her seatbelt, I realize her shoulders are shaking. I initially think she’s crying, but when I tip her face to me, she’s actually giggling.

“You should’ve stayed long enough to see her face!” she laughs. “Her face fell. She went from smug to…to…”

Emily doesn’t even finish her sentence. She’s doubles over and I can’t help but laugh with her. When she finally calms down, she looks around and her eyebrows scrunch. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to my secret spot.”

“You have a secret spot?”

“Yes. When things get too much, that’s where I get away. That’s where I usually go, but the other day, I went to your town instead. Best decision ever.”

A smile plays on my lips as we make our way up the winding path. We reach the summit and Emily gasps, eyes wide with surprise and delight. The whole city is sprawled beneath our feet, and the cool breeze carries with it the sounds of the hustle and bustle below. Even all the way here, we can still hear the faint hum of traffic.

I lead her to a secluded spot nestled under the shade of a gnarled tree. It’s an old bench with weathered wooden slats worn smooth. We settle onto it, and the seat sags slightly. With an arm around her shoulders, we sit in silence.

“I understand why you love it here. It’s quiet, peaceful, but you can still see the city below,” she says.

“Yes. Just being here helps me think.”

“Does the owner know you’re trespassing?”

“Yep. He knows,” I smirk. Emily knows me a little too well already because it quickly clicks, and her mouth forms an “O”.

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