Chasing the CEO (The CEO duet Book 1)

by Cecilia Campos

  I made myself believe it was for the better. Especially after my meeting with Barbie earlier today. Done is done. Finito.

  THE TWO MEETINGS THAT had appeared on my agenda were part of that internal project Sebastian is working on, for which he had my schedule rearranged. Well, it actually concerned three meetings, but the third one was a lunch meeting with Cowboy, and no way I was going to attend that after what happened in his office.

  On a corporate level, the two women were very professional and business-like. They were mostly interested in the process of loading, unloading, and transport. Cristina wanted to know what matters I thought needed improving.

  But during my interview with Barbara—I call her Barbie—it only became more clear to me that an adventure with Cowboy could not be real, and also wouldn’t be manageable. It would all just be just too complicated.

  “Before we wind up this interview, I would like to speak to you about something else.” Barbie suddenly rises and looks out the window. “What are your intentions with Sebastian?”

  Wow. Well, why I am even surprised she wants to talk about me and Sebastian? It was the elephant in the room. Kudos for having the guts to bring up the subject.

  “My intentions are private between me and Sebastian, and I would like to keep it that way.”

  “If you want to keep your relationship with Sebastian private, I would like to advise you not to storm into his office like an idiot and start yelling at him in front of his co-workers.” Is she feeling threatened? She has some nerve!

  “I don’t need your advice, and you should mind your own business.” I say.

  “We’ve worked very hard to get where we are in life, Nina. Our careers will not benefit from your kind of office soap opera drama.”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you. If you really want to know what’s going on, you should ask Sebastian.” The words come out all messy, because this woman makes me nervous.

  “I know exactly what’s going on. You see, Sebastian is like an older brother to us. We are his family. He protects us and we protect him. You are just looking for a hook-up. A short adventure that will do us no good. Not on a business level and not on a personal level. So stay away from him. I’m warning you.”

  “You think you can scare me? Listen, Sebastian is a big boy. I’m not forcing him into anything. Besides, he’s the one going after me, not the other way around. I wonder how he would feel if he knew you were threatening me like this.”

  Abruptly, I get up, only to find out in the most painful way that the hard surface of the seat has stuck to the back of my thighs. I don’t want the Wicked Witch of the West to see my pain, so I’m doing the best I can to keep a straight face. Instead, I probably look like I need to use the restroom.

  Despite the pain, I manage to make myself perfectly clear. “You can’t intimidate me. But rest assured, if you were up-to-date about the latest developments in our relationship, you would know that whatever it was between me and Sebastian, is now over.”

  Part of me wonders whether I should be telling her this at all. Why should I give her more information? But I don’t want to play games anymore. The game is over.

  HIS VOICE IS LOWER and deeper than I remember. “We had a lunch meeting today. You didn’t show up. You didn’t even call to cancel. That’s not very nice.”

  Is he really lecturing me right now? Did he come all the way here to reproach me? If I wasn’t so distracted by his astonishing beauty, I would be fuming.

  I don’t know how, but his traits seem even more masculine than the last time I saw him. Bushy, dark eyebrows frame his sparkling, amber eyes. His black hair seems to glow in the dimly lit bar. Every time I see him, he takes my breath away. How is that possible?

  Come on, keep your head on straight, Nina. It doesn’t mean he came here just to lecture you. It means he shouldn’t have come here at all. We had a deal for two weeks, which turned out to last one day. It’s done. Over.

  “Not nice is you scheduling that meeting without consulting me. Not nice is you accusing me of staging a fight, of manipulating you into having sex with me. Not nice is you not apologizing to me and me not hearing from you at all afterwards. Not nice is you showing up here, even though I told you it’s over, and you have the nerve to still come and lecture me. Not nice is your little Barbie doll threatening me today and warning me to stay away from you. There are many things that aren’t very nice.”

  I state my case while doing my best not to look at him. That’s the only way in which I can manage to get those words out of my mouth. I look straight ahead of me and try to speak softly, so that it sounds as though I’m in control of my feelings. I do not want him to know how much it’s hurting me. On Monday, I’d already made enough of a fool of myself to last me a lifetime. From now on, Nina Palermo is cool and in control of her emotions.

  “You’re right. About everything you just said. But you’re not right about what this is really about.” His hand finds my chin and he forces me to look him in the eye.

  “And you’re about to tell me what it’s all really about now, aren’t you?”

  He may have twisted my face towards him, but I refuse to look at him. I know I’ll be lost if I do.

  “Yes.” A small word, but with so much conviction.

  “How glad I am that you will honor me with your version of the truth.” I pull my face away from him and continue looking straight ahead at the dance floor. I hope my tone is mocking enough and doesn’t ring with too many emotions. That is really a difficult exercise for me, but I have no choice except to restrain myself and not show him I’m actually very sad and disappointed. I don’t want his pity. He won’t get another chance to hurt me anymore.

  “You’re afraid. You’re afraid, and you seize every little opportunity to walk away. Away from me, and from what you are now feeling for the first time in your life.”

  “I’m so glad someone finally understands me.” My voice is dripping with sarcasm. I hope. In the meantime, I try to control my lower lip, which starts to tremble terribly.

  “But I won’t let you scare me away. Not with your dramatic fights. Not with your ‘seize the day,’ ‘go with the flow’ bullshit. Not with the zombie bullshit. I know what I want. I want you, and no one will stop me. Not even you,” he says.

  “Okay. Got it. Good luck with that,” I say.

  “I don’t need luck. We had a deal. Two weeks. Two weeks to show you that you belong with me.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. That deal is off. I thought I made that clear.”

  “The deal’s still on. It cannot be reversed, I will have my two weeks. And more. I’m in for the whole package, baby. I’m in for all the weeks. For the biggest adventure there is.”

  “Are you ready?” a deep, male voice sounds behind me. A hand is placed on my right shoulder. Peter. Finally! Thank fucking God and everything that’s holy.

  If my life were a highway, I would have run a red light.

  Chapter 22 – Next!

  NINA

  “You made it!” I say in my most enthusiastic tone. I was wondering how much longer I had to wait for him. How much longer I would have to continue lying to Cowboy, pretending I don’t feel anything for him, while in fact, there are so many emotions rushing through me at the same time. Too many to mention. Too much for me to understand at this moment.

  Astonishment colors Cowboy’s face. He didn’t see this one coming. He doesn’t know I ran into Peter after I stormed out of his office yesterday. He was smoking a cigarette outside when I left the building, fuming. We started talking and this is what you get when you make Nina Palermo angry. This is what you get when you hurt me. I don’t waste time. I go on with my life. I don’t care that he protected my family when I was ten. I don’t care at all.

  “You’re late!” It takes some effort to conjure up a smile, but I think I manage to be convincing enough. I make sure to act very enthusiastically when I get up from my bar stool to give Peter a kiss on his cheek.

  “S
orry, my navigation system had a little trouble finding this place.” He offers his hand to Cowboy. “Hey, Sebastian. You’re here as well?”

  It sounds like a question, but he doesn’t look surprised at all. His tone is cool and secure, as if he’s not impressed by Cowboy at all. Not concerned with the fierce look that appeared in Cowboy’s eyes, the flared nostrils, or his furrowed eyebrows. It’s pretty obvious Cowboy is not amused with this situation. He doesn’t accept Peter’s hand.

  “I believe Sebastian misunderstood. He shouldn’t have come here.” I look at Cowboy as I continue. “Our deal is off, so I assumed that our date for tonight was off too. Sorry, Sebastian, I thought I made myself very clear. But I’m glad that we had a chance to talk. I hope it’s clear for you now. Come, Peter, let’s go.”

  Without offering him a second glance or waiting for his reaction, I quickly scoop up my purse, grab Peter’s elbow, and drag him outside.

  “SORRY FOR THAT AWKWARD situation.”

  In Peter’s rental, I put on my seatbelt and look over at him while he takes his seat behind the wheel. He has nice eyes.

  “No, that’s not a problem at all, Nina. Where do you wanna go?” His eyes wander to my cleavage and then down to my legs. He leaves no doubt about what he’s after, and that’s exactly what I want. I want to go on with my life with a new sexcapade.

  Peter is the perfect candidate. He’s handsome, well-groomed, and smells great. He’s wearing a citrusy scent as well, but sweeter than Cowboy’s. Exterior-wise, he’s exactly the opposite of Cowboy: short, golden-brown hair that is a bit longer on top, according to the latest fashion. He has a five o’clock shadow and strong, masculine features. His body is a bit skinnier than Cowboy’s; well, he’s less muscular. He looks athletic and has long, slender fingers and thin veins on his hands. He is not as rough as Cowboy and a bit more refined in everything.

  Then I remember I still need to do a sexcapade test, just to be sure. “Peter, before we go anywhere, I want to know three things.”

  “Shoot.” He sounds confident, putting on his seatbelt.

  “One. Are you married or currently in a relationship?”

  “No.” Check.

  “Two. I’m looking for a short-term adventure. If you’re looking for a long-term relationship, you’ve got the wrong girl.”

  “No. I’m going back to the States soon, so ...” Check.

  “Okay. Three. Did you bring condoms?”

  “Boy, you’re very direct, aren’t you?” he asks, amused. But he answers my question simply. “Yes, I like to have safe sex.” Check.

  “Then you can drive me home now.”

  “Let’s go!” He sounds enthusiastic. As he drives off, he rests his right hand on my thigh, softly caressing it.

  What an adrenaline kick. I couldn’t have planned this any better. Peter is the perfect distraction. The best sexcapade to forget everything. It was also good he and Cowboy ran into each other at the dance studio. Now Cowboy was able to get it perfectly straight that, as far as I’m concerned, it’s over. Cowboy. Cowboy who? I’ve already forgotten all about him.

  Am I being mean? Should I feel sorry for him? I know better. He’s just getting a taste of his own medicine. All men are the same. They take what they want and only think about themselves. I know all about it. Cowboy only wants me because I’m a challenge for him. Because I’m not giving him what he wants. He’s not used to that. He doesn’t want me for who I am. If he really knew me, he would never be interested in me. That’s just not possible.

  I just want to feel happy. Better. Alive. I want to forget everything. Peter’s hands will help me do just that.

  Once we’re at home, he caresses the back of my thighs and slowly slips up to cup my butt, while we kiss passionately.

  His mouth is also very distracting, exploring my own. Tension is rising. Pleasure is increasing. The heat between my legs is intense.

  Fingers brush the seam of my panties and slip underneath. They feel the evidence of my excitement and drive the moisture up to my clit. He presses himself against me even harder. His hard dick is proof of his excitement.

  My heart is pounding enthusiastically. When he caresses that little button, I can feel the energy build up. I open my eyes and it’s not Cowboy’s eyes I see. The amber-colored eyes with the dark brown dots and long lashes. It’s not Cowboy’s breath I feel that’s making my skin tingle. It’s not Cowboy’s hands that make me insane with desire. No. I’ve completely forgotten about Cowboy. I’m not thinking about his hair that I want to pull out of its ponytail and run my fingers through, while I kiss his neck and breathe in his lovely masculine scent. I’m not thinking about the way his lips feel on mine. I’m not thinking about his hard chest muscles and how they feel against my sensitive nipples when I’m standing really close to him. I’m really not thinking about all those crazy things right now.

  God dammit. Why I am still thinking about that stupid American boss? Nina, snap out of it! Now. Forget about him. Forget everything. Let it go. I do my best to kiss Peter passionately once again and try to regain some desire for him.

  I can do this. I can do this.

  But I can’t. The moment’s over. Ruined by that stupid Cowboy still messing with my head. Maybe a short break is a good idea, so I can get myself back in the mood again. I push back from Peter and look at him.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, I don’t need a drink.” He is devouring me with his eyes. I can feel his gaze burn on my breasts.

  “Then just let me freshen up a bit. You sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

  He looks at me, shocked. Well, yeah, I’m pretty amazed myself, to be frank. I quickly run up the stairs to the bathroom. Inside, I turn on the faucet, pretending to wash my hands. In the mirror, my reflection is staring back at me.

  What are you doing, Nina? Come on, get back to that handsome man!

  Then, when I turn off the water, I hear him talk. Softly, but I can hear him nonetheless. He’s on the phone with someone, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Now I’m curious. I shut the door quietly and walk to the top of the stairs without a sound.

  “Yes, I’m with her now. Yes, it’s going fine. Don’t worry, Barbara, I will make sure she forgets about Sebastian. But I gotta go now. Don’t call me again, you’ll ruin everything. Bye.”

  Rubber duckies with canary poo ...What the hell? Did I really hear what I think I just heard?

  I was doing so well today. I’ve been in control of myself all day, I didn’t have a single fit of rage and no screaming tirades either. But now ... now there’s no way I will be able to control my rage. I run down the stairs so fast it feels like I’m flying.

  “What...” I hear him say with an astonished tone right before I slap him in the face. I do it again, against his other cheek. When I go to strike him a third time, he grabs my wrist and stops me.

  “What the hell are you doing, Nina?” I tear my wrist free from his grip and take a few steps back.

  “Go away!” I demand, as loudly as I can. “Get out of my house now, you son of a bitch!”

  Gnocchi, who was dozing in his doggy bed in the kitchen, wakes up and start barking from all the commotion.

  Then everything happens very fast. From the corner of my eye, I see Gnocchi make a run for him. Peter tries to flee, but my dog grabs a leg of his pants and starts shaking it fiercely from left to right, while I hear the tearing of the fabric. I try to grab hold of Gnocchi and when I do that, Peter seizes the opportunity to run for it. As soon as I’ve managed to calm down my pit bull and look up, Peter is gone. Then I hear the front door slam shut.

  If my life were a highway, I would have driven over a speed bump at sixty miles an hour.

  I’VE BEEN LYING IN bed for hours, but sleep won’t come. Falling asleep has always been a challenge for me because I’m afraid of the nightmares. After the incident with Peter, sleep has never been further away. It must be the adrenaline. The house is quiet. The only thi
ng I hear is the ticking of the clock in the living room. According to my cell phone, it’s half past one in the morning, but Grandma’s still not home. That’s unusual. Grandma always sleeps at home. Always. When I check my messages, I see she sent me a text earlier this evening I hadn’t seen yet.

  I’m staying at Jeffrey’s tonight. See you tomorrow, my sweetheart! xoxo

  Good for her. I mean, she has been taking such good care of me ever since I moved in. It’s good she has Jeffrey to have fun with. She had a rough time as well when her daughter died. Jeffrey is good to her. He might not be the love of her life, because that part will always be reserved for my grandfather, but they are right for each other. They help each other, and Grandma deserves to be happy that way, for however long it might last.

  But here I am, lying awake once again, and time seems to be standing still. In those endless hours that feel like an eternity, I come to realize I’m alone. There is no one I can call now in the middle of the night. I know for sure Tiger would answer my call, but I can’t do that. I’ll talk to her again in the morning. I tell myself that may be better anyway. I can use this time now to try and organize my thoughts a bit, but I’d rather not be alone right now. It’s not that I’m afraid to be alone, I’m afraid of my thoughts. All those memories come rushing back to me. “Time heals all wounds,” they say. But it doesn’t feel like that for me at all.

  It’s been two years now since my parents died, and the hole in my heart still hasn’t healed completely. It’s an open, festering wound that doesn’t want to close. I can’t help wondering over and over again if they would still be alive, if I’d had my car fixed back then, when I should have. Or maybe I should have convinced them not to move to Holland when I was little. Would they still be alive today and still happy together? Would they have listened to a teenage girl? Maybe I should have resisted it more, cried my eyes out, telling them I didn’t want to go. That I didn’t want to leave my friends behind. Would it have helped? I don’t know. Maybe I should have tried less hard when we just arrived in Holland. At school, for instance. Or maybe I should have had—or faked—more homesickness to our little town and our lives in Italy. Maybe, if I had been a bit more unhappy back then, they would have moved back to Italy. Then my dad would be happy again in his own country, amongst his own people, with his own culture, and they wouldn’t have ended up getting a divorce. There never would have been a truck crashing into their car from behind, destroying all our lives.