Getting Dirty with the CEO

by Mia Sosa

  Jason took one step forward, meeting Daniel’s piercing stare with his own. “Or what?”

  Mimi pulled Daniel back by his suit jacket. “Let me remind you, gentlemen, that you need to make an appearance at the reception. This is a snag, that’s all. Go out there and don’t be shy about discussing your views on gender diversity. Now’s not the time to be tight lipped about all the wonderful things you are doing. I’ll find the reporters from the student paper and the Cambridge Gazette and reinforce what you’re saying out there. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Amar said.

  Spencer shook his head in exasperation. “Yeah, fine.”

  Jason stormed out of the room, and Amar and Spencer followed him.

  Daniel stroked her arm. “You okay?”

  She stepped back. “I’m fine. Let’s focus on the reception.” She walked to the door and opened it. “After you.”

  An hour later, they waited in front of Gund Hall for the car service that would take them to the airport. Mimi checked her e-mails because she didn’t know what to say or do to ease the awkwardness in the air.

  When the black town car pulled up, she turned to Spencer. “Where’s Jason?”

  Spencer sighed. “He decided to take a later flight.”

  “Because he’s pissed at me?”

  “He’s just pissed, Mimi. He’s the hothead of the bunch.”

  Daniel gritted his teeth. “He’s the baby of the bunch. Fuck him.”

  Mimi let Daniel lead her into the car. She was too exhausted by the day’s events to do anything but climb into it and sit quietly. A client had never been this angry with her. Not even close. And she couldn’t help pinning the blame on her relationship with Daniel. She could rationalize it all she wanted, and maybe Jason was being a dick, too, but he was being a dick because of her relationship with Daniel.

  She snuck a glance at Daniel and her stomach twisted. His face was set in a permanent scowl, and he bore no resemblance to the fun and carefree man he usually portrayed to the world. Worse than that, he was pissed at one of his closest friends—because of her.

  When they reached the airport, Amar and Spencer claimed to want to pick up some food before their flight, giving her and Daniel a few minutes alone. As they progressed through security, Daniel reached for her at various points, but she moved out of his grasp each time.

  His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. “Talk to me.”

  “Just give me a little space, okay? My head’s a mess right now.”

  He backed up. “Fine. I’ll leave you to yourself.”

  * * *

  They reached the departure gate well before their scheduled flight. Which meant there was just enough time for him to figure out how messed up Mimi’s head was.

  They found seats facing the floor-to-ceiling window, giving them a view of their airplane being prepped for the flight.

  He squeezed her hand. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She rubbed her temples. “Let’s not do this here, Daniel.”

  He ground his jaw, hating the fucking wall he could see being rebuilt in front of his eyes. “Do what here?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Daniel. We just dealt with a shitload of tension back there, and you’re the only person who won’t acknowledge that I’m the cause of it.”

  “You’re blowing this out of proportion. Jason’s been in a crappy mood lately, and it’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “Don’t pin all this on Jason. Amar and Spencer weren’t happy with me, either. They’re just being diplomatic about it.”

  “If they have any complaints about your performance, they’re bullshit excuses for our weakness as a firm.”

  “That’s just it, Daniel. It doesn’t really matter whether their complaints are well founded. What matters is that they’re concerned about how my relationship with you affects my work. And if you weren’t so concerned about maintaining the status quo, you’d see that I broke your confidence.”

  “Broke my confidence? How?”

  “I mentioned the scholarship when you specifically asked me not to. That was a conversation we had on my couch, Daniel, and I used it to dodge a publicity gaffe. I can’t keep all of this straight in my head, and it’s affecting my job.”

  He lowered his voice. “So what are our options?”

  She shook her head slowly. “There are none, unfortunately. Getting this account was a big deal for me, but if I hadn’t gotten it, I could have proved myself by landing another one. Several even. But losing an account is a big red flag, and I can’t let that happen when the partners are evaluating me for partnership. And what would I say? That I’m dating my client, and his colleagues were upset about it? I’d be mortified.”

  His jaw tightened. Mortified? Did he mean that little to her? “So this is about your embarrassment?”

  Her lower lip trembled as she explained. “This is about my credibility, Daniel. You have to understand. I just put a down payment on a home, Daniel. I need this. I have to make partner, and if I lose this account, that’s not going to happen.”

  He stared at her, knowing she’d been predicting this moment all along. “Yet you have no problem losing me.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Daniel. But sometimes we can’t always get everything we want. Sometimes the puzzle pieces don’t fit the way we’d like them to.”

  Could she hear herself? Probably not, since her very existence depended on believing all that bullshit was true. But no one deserved the crap she was dishing out, not even him. “Did you rip that off a Hallmark card?”

  She blinked back tears. “Let’s not do this, okay? I want us to be able to work together. And when we started this, you promised you wouldn’t make things difficult for me if we decided to part ways.”

  He cocked his head and surveyed her from head to toe. No matter how much he wanted them to be together, he couldn’t fight their battles alone. “Yeah. I’ll keep my promise. You had priorities way before you met me, right?” He stood and smiled. “We’re fine, Mimi. I’m going to grab a cup of coffee before the flight.”

  He wasn’t fine, though. His heart felt disengaged from all the veins and arteries pumping blood into it.

  Is that why they called it a broken heart?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mimi pulled into Gracie’s driveway and dropped her head onto the steering wheel. After gathering her composure, she trudged up the walkway and rang the doorbell. Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile. Pretend everything’s okay.

  With worry in her eyes, Gracie opened the door and ushered her in. “I didn’t know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Daniel’s coming over,” she whispered.

  Mimi’s head pounded. No, no, no. “Why?”

  Gracie looked heavenward. “Ethan got the bright idea to enter a mud run and Daniel’s helping him train. Mark, too.”

  “Midlife crisis?”

  “More like moving-to-suburbia crisis.”

  Mimi placed her bag on the entryway table and dropped onto Gracie’s couch. “Perfect. I’ll just be over here dying.”

  Gracie stood at the window and peeked through the blinds. “Have you seen him lately?”

  “Not even once. I went to their office to meet with Spencer for a magazine interview, but I didn’t see him, and I certainly didn’t go out of my way to find him. Plus things are quieting down now that we’ve overhauled the website and rolled out the new brand strategy. So yeah, I won’t have to see him unless he happens to be at my best friend’s house.” She shook her head in disgust. “Why didn’t I stick to the fucking rules?”

  “Because you love him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Probably.”

  “Possibly.”

  Mimi fell over and rested her head against the sofa’s armrest. “You look beautiful, Gracie. Pregnancy does wondrous things to your ta-tas.”

  Gracie cupped her breasts. “I know, right?” She flicked her gaze upstairs. He loves them, she mouthed.

  “He bet
ter. And he better love them when they’re flapping around like a collapsed soufflé, too.”

  Gracie stuck her middle finger up at her.

  The crunch of the gravel alerted them to someone’s arrival. Gracie peeked through the blinds again. “It’s just Mark and Karen.”

  A minute later, Karen walked through the door and straight to the morning table. She dropped her purse onto it and pulled out a stack of books.

  Mimi, Gracie, and Mark watched her in silence.

  Finally, she looked up. “Shit. Sorry.” She crossed the living room and hugged Gracie. “Lo siento, hermana. I have a big test on Monday.”

  Gracie held her chin. “Nothing to be sorry for. Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, I’m fine. Hey, Mimi.”

  Mimi lifted her head. “Hey, Karen.”

  Karen, Gracie, and Mark exchanged worried looks.

  “Uh-oh,” Karen said. “What’s going on?”

  “She broke up with Daniel,” Gracie explained.

  Mimi punched a pillow into submission before she placed it behind her back. “My current state has nothing to do with that.”

  Gracie huffed. “Hmm. Okay. Denial. Stage one.”

  Mark backed away from them. “I’m going to grab a glass of water. Leave you to discuss…stuff.”

  Karen flared her nostrils. “You do that.”

  Ethan came barreling down the stairs. “What’s up, Mark?”

  Ethan and Mark exchanged an intricate handshake that left Mimi’s head reeling.

  But then she focused on Ethan’s athletic gear, which bore the unmistakable crispness of clothing that had recently been removed from a shopping bag.

  Mimi snorted. “There’s a price tag on your shorts.”

  Ethan reached the bottom step and stopped. “Where?” he asked as he twisted his torso to look for the tag.

  “Ha. Just kidding.”

  Ethan’s mouth twitched. “Mud running is a different animal than cross-country. I had to make sure I was properly outfitted.”

  “To borrow Gracie’s words, ‘Hmm. Okay. Denial. Stage one.’”

  Gracie barked out a laugh.

  And then the doorbell rang. They all turned their heads to watch Mimi’s reaction.

  She grimaced. “Is someone going to get that?”

  Gracie rushed to answer the door. And Mimi sprang from the couch and headed toward the back of the house. “I need a drink of water.”

  She picked at her nails as she paced the kitchen. I’m not ready for this. Straining to hear Daniel’s voice, she moved closer to the kitchen’s entryway. She felt short of breath, overwhelmed by the possibility of seeing him in the flesh without her professional armor to protect her. Maybe he’d leave with Ethan and Mark, and they wouldn’t have to say a word to each other.

  He peeked his head into the kitchen, and Mimi jumped. Nope. No such luck.

  “Oh, hey, Daniel.”

  He smiled. “Hey, Mimi. They told me you were in here getting a drink.”

  “Yeah.” She looked around her as though a glass would magically appear in her hands. “Drank it already.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “They’re acting weird in there. I told them we’re fine, but they seemed skeptical. We are fine, right?”

  If fine meant that she wanted to pull him into the pantry and ravage him, yeah, they were fine. And if fine meant that she’d be touching herself tonight with an image of him in her head, yep, they were fine. And if fine meant that seeing him made her heart crumple like discarded paper, then yes, they were super. “Yes. Everything’s cool.”

  He nodded. “Great.” A flash of emotion, a second of regret perhaps, flickered in his eyes, and then it disappeared so quickly she couldn’t trust that she’d actually seen it. “It’s good to see you.”

  Her throat tightened under the pressure of having to talk to him. After clearing it, she forced the words out. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  She wanted to turn away, before he could see the tears that threatened to fall, but he reached out and touched her wrist. “Listen, I”—he paused and took a deep breath—“I do miss you, but I also want what’s best for you. So do what you need to do, okay?”

  Though she was sure he’d meant to make her feel better, his words pelted her, compounding her pain. She managed to give him a ridiculous answer. “Okay.”

  From the living room, Mark whistled. “Yo, Daniel. Ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “Take care. I’m sure we’ll be talking soon. You’ll be prepping me for the interview in Architectural Digest, right?”

  “Right.”

  But she wished she could say more. So much more.

  I miss you.

  I made a mistake.

  I don’t know what I’m doing, and I wish we could go back to the way things were.

  She told him none of that, of course. He didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of her confusion.

  “Take care, Daniel.”

  “Take care, Fireworks.”

  When the front door clicked shut, she released the breath she’d been holding. Screw the water. She needed alcohol.

  * * *

  When Mimi rejoined Gracie and Karen, the sisters were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. “I made a margarita for me and virgin margaritas for you guys.”

  Gracie shook her head in wonder. “Made yourself comfortable in my kitchen, did you?”

  Karen squished her brows together. “Why virgin for me?”

  “Gracie’s pregnant so she gets no part of this. And you get a virgin because you’re studying. We can’t have you hungover before a test.”

  “You sound like Mark.”

  Gracie took a sip of her virgin margarita. “Speaking of which, was it just me or was there some pissed-off vibe going on between you two?”

  Karen gulped her drink. “This needs alcohol,” she said to Mimi. To Gracie, she said, “It wasn’t just you. He thinks I’m not taking care of myself. I study too hard. I’m not eating enough. On and on. Blah, blah, blah. We had words.”

  “Give him a break. He loves you.”

  “He needs to give me a break. He’s stressing me out.”

  Mimi set her drink on the coffee table and tucked her legs under her. “See? This is why you keep the apartment. If he pisses you off, you have somewhere to go to clear your head.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m giving up the apartment.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Um. We’re engaged to be married, Mimi. And I never stay at my place anyway.”

  “But you’re not getting married immediately, right?”

  “No, we’re not, but that’s beside the point. I’m ready to share my life with him.”

  “Do you have some money stashed away at least? For a rainy day?”

  Karen scowled at her, something she’d never done before. “Mimi, what is with you? I have friends and family, and I’m studying to be a doctor. I think it’s highly unlikely I’ll need to keep my apartment as protection against a failed relationship.”

  Mimi threw back her head and took the last sip of her drink like a shot. “No, you should own a place, not rent it.”

  Karen scrunched her face. “No, I should work things out with my boyfriend, not live my life protecting myself against the worst that could happen. You should try it sometime.”

  Mimi glowered at Karen. No. She. Did. Not. “What’s that supposed to mean, Karen?”

  Gracie injected herself into the fray. “Ladies, relax.” She placed her hand on her belly. “The baby doesn’t like tension.”

  Karen groaned, rose from the couch, and plopped onto the chair. “Sorry, Mimi. I’m tired and stressed, and it’s none of my business. Forget I said anything.”

  Except she couldn’t forget it. Not easily, at least. Because for the first time, she realized that preparing for the possibility that a relationship would end before it even began was exhausting. although she wasn’t happy, she was safe. And that’s what ma
ttered.

  Right?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ian knocked on her office door and walked in without waiting for an invitation. What an asshole.

  “Are you free tomorrow evening?” he asked.

  Sadly, she had nothing to do. Two weeks ago, she would have declined, claiming a conflict but knowing she had plans to be with Daniel. Now, however, she spent the bulk of her day going from one work crisis to the next, volunteering for assignments that would force her to stay late in the office. By the time she made it home, she was exhausted and could do nothing more than collapse on her bed for a fitful sleep. Reducing the number of hours she was awake and idle meant she didn’t have to think about how much she missed Daniel. Although spending an evening in Ian’s presence was never an appealing prospect, it was still better than moping at home. “Yes, I’m free. Why?”

  “A potential client to reel in.” He mimicked catching a fish on a hook. “A few drinks and a good meal, and this deal will be as good as done. Figured you could join us. Regale him with stories of your upbringing in Austin. He’s originally from Texas.”

  She forced a smile. “Not that many interesting stories to share, but sure I can join you. What time?”

  “Seven p.m. at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse.”

  “I’ll meet you there. Send me the client info.”

  “Will do.” He turned to leave but spun around before he reached her door. “Oh, and the guy’s a little conservative. I’m thinking a skirt might be more appropriate attire.”

  What. The. Fuck? Please tell me he didn’t just say that. Her legs bounced as she tried to formulate a sensible explanation for Ian’s comment. “Excuse me? You’re going to tell the client to wear a skirt?”

  “That’s cute, Mimi. No, I’m suggesting that you should wear a skirt.”

  She said nothing, because whatever she’d say surely would get her fired.

  Ian straightened and fidgeted with his cuff links. His narrow gaze searched her face as though he were trying to gauge her mood. “Oh, c’mon, flashing a little leg never hurts.”