Page 110 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

I waited until 7 p.m. before leaving my house. I knew she’d likely be home from work by then. It was warm outside, but the sun was quickly setting, bringing a cool breeze rolling off the ocean with it. I stared at the bright-orange horizon as I jumped in my car and steered it up my unnecessarily long driveway. I listened to the news while I drove to Stella’s apartment. Fuel prices were up, the NASDAQ was down—nothing new.

The sky turned black as I pulled up in front of her apartment building. I checked my cell to make sure she hadn’t replied to me yet. She hadn’t, so I made my way up to her front door. When I got to it, I could hear her television blaring, but nothing else.

“Sis,” I called as I knocked. “It’s me. Open up. I’m worried about you.”

“Go away,” she exclaimed from the other side of the door. I heard her pause the show she was watching.

“I’m not going to. I’m going to stand here and wait until you open up. Save us the time and openup.”

I heard her stomping toward the door. She flung it open and angrily looked up at me. “You’re a pest,” she grumbled, “and I said go away.” She started closing the door again, but I stuck my foot through the entrance before she could.

“Talk to me,” I insisted.

“No.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I pushed the door open and walked into her apartment. It was in disarray. She’d never been particularly neat, but she’d never been as disorganized as her apartment currently was. “What’s with the mess?” I asked directly.

She folded her arms in front of her chest, making it a point to not talk to me.

I sighed, frustrated. “I know you’re ignoring me, so tell me what I need to do for you to forgive me for whatever I’ve done wrong.”

Silence.Jesus Christ. This would take all night.

I said, “Stop being stubborn. Are you still mad at me because I asked you to keep an eye on Ace for me?”

“So that’s what you call it now? The fact that you don’t know what you did wrong is laughable,” she huffed. She stomped over to her couch, shoved an almost-empty packet of sour cream and onion chips aside, as well as one empty brownie box, and one empty tub of hazelnut ice cream. There was a half-empty tub of strawberry sorbet on the table, all melted. Finally, she sat down among some Hershey’s kisses wrappers. She didn’t gesture for me to do the same, but I joined her anyway.

“That’s all you’ve eaten? You must be starving,” I teased.

Nothing. Only an evil glare.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. I’m not a mind reader,” I said, trying to keep my impatience at bay. “How am I supposed to know what unforgivable sin I committed if you won’t talk to me about it?”

“It’s really convenient that you’ve forgotten how you showed up at my apartment and accused me of sleeping with your best friend. Ace told me you went to his apartment too.”

“That’s it? That’s all? Okay, I’m sorry that I wrongly accused you. It was unfair of me. Please forgive me?” It sounded like it could be a joke, so I lowered my voice to a friendlier register. “Hey…you know I’m just protective of you. You’re my baby sister. You’re my little pancake. You’re my little éclair.” I looked at her as she dissolved into tears, and I immediately worried that I’d said something wrong again. The goal was to make her smile, not burst into tears.

She sobbed loudly and violently, holding her hands over her face to catch her tears. The couch jerked under me, and all the wrappers fell to the floor as her wailing rocked it. I knew this wasn’t a “normal” Stella weeping session—something was seriously wrong.

“Hey, hey, stop, Baby Cakes, please. Tell me what I can do to make things right,” I said with the warmest voice that I could muster. “I hate seeing you like this.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and squeezed. In response, she rested her head against my chest.

Oh, good.Now we’re getting somewhere.

I stroked her head and her cheek, feeling tears dripping down onto my skin.

“I-I’m pregnant,” she finally blurted, her voice shaking as she said it.

I inhaled.

Finally, everything made sense.

I exhaled.

I wrapped my other arm around her too, and hugged her firmly. I didn’t let go of her until she was pulling away from me.

“You’re not mad?” she asked, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes full of tears.

“Mad? No, of course not,” I said. “How could I be? I can see that you love him.”

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