The CEO
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Jessica Morel
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Dirty Dancing
SCARLETT
The moment I walk into the emergency board meeting and meet my grandmotherâs glaring eyes, I know Iâve made a mistake.
âWhat are you doing here?â I ask, not bothering to make my voice sound friendly.
âOh, Scarlett,â she says sweetly, âhow good of you to grace us with your presence. I heard the merger with Firefly Industries is going ahead next week?â
The others at the conference table watch us silently, waiting to see where this is going.
âYes,â I say, âthat is the plan. You know thatâs the plan. I donât see whatâs such an emergency aboutââ
âI believe you should hold off, darling.â Her voice is still syrupy-sweet, even as her dark eyes bore into mine.
âWhy do you care?â I ask.
âYou are family.â She offers me a sympathetic smile, a show for the other people in the room. âDominic Peters has been playing you.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âHe doesnât want to buy the company, Scarlett. He wants to take it.â
I scoff. âThat doesnât make any senseââ
âA video has been forwarded to us,â she interrupts, with the air of someone laying down a trump card.
I pause. âWhat of?â
âOf you and Mr. Peters in a compromising position.â
I freeze. It feels like my intestines are tying themselves in a knot. âWhat?â
âI believe that the video was taken at a club known as âDirty Thoughts,ââ my grandmother says, pronouncing each word like it might poison her. âA club known to cater to people ofâŚshall we say, particular tastes?â
âNo,â I say, the word coming out automatically. âThereâs no way you could have aâwe werenât filmed. That was private.â
âWe have, of course, kept this strictly confidential,â says Grandmother, oozing sympathy again. âBut you must understand that were these tastes to become public⌠Well, it wouldnât be a good look for the shareholders.â
âWhat are you saying?â I ask. I canât feel my face. How is there a video? How did it make its way to my grandmother, of all people?
âDominic Peters can survive a sex scandal,â she says. âEasily. But you?â She laughs. âYouâre hanging on by your fingernails as it is.â
The numbness is fading now, leaving me with a burning rage. At my grandmother, yes, but sheâs just the messenger. Mostly, I want to find Nic and murder him.
âWho you associate with behind closed doors is one thing,â Grandmother coos. âBut I would think very carefully before trusting this man professionally.â
Iâve heard enough. âThanks,â I choke out, and turn and run from the room as fast as my heels can carry me.
THREE MONTHS EARLIER
âWe are totally celebrating!â Beth slides into our booth with a bottle of champagne.
âSure,â I say with a sigh.
Claudia puts an arm over my shoulder. âWhatâs wrong, Miss Sourpuss? You deserve to celebrate. You just graduated, top of the class, and two months later you already have an amazing job lined up.â
âMaybe I shouldnât take itâŚ,â I mutter.
âThis is about Jase, isnât it?â Beth asks. I shrug. âYou have to get that jerk out of your head, Scar. You deserve this!â
âWhen do you start?â Jackie asks.
âMonday.â Itâs Thursday now, so plenty of time for me to overthink before I actually have to show up at the office.
My roommatesâBeth, Claudia, and Jackieâare awesome cheerleaders. We roomed together all through NYU, and then got an apartment together in the city. Theyâre my BFFs for life.
But no matter what they say, Iâm really not sure this job is a good idea.
Claudiaâs right: itâs exactly two months since graduation. Two months since my long-term boyfriend Jason broke up with me out of nowhere.
âI want to be a senator by the time Iâm thirty, baby,â he said before weâd even changed out of the caps and gowns. âThere are a lot of demands on a senatorâs wife. And youâre, like, a career woman. Youâre not cut out for that life.â
âI could figure it out,â I said, hating myself even as the words came out of my mouth. I really didnât want a life relegated to being someoneâs arm candy. But I loved Jase! Weâd been together for three years. We could make it work.
âMaybe if you were gonna get your MBA and go be CEO for your dadâs company,â he said. âThatâs what I always thought. Weâd be a power couple. But instead, youâre applying for all these low-level assistant jobs? Whatâs that about?â
âIâm sorry,â I said, voice going cold, âI didnât realize you were only dating me for access to Roberts Enterprises.â
âI wasnât,â he said, conciliatory. âI just donât think weâre on the same path, career-wise. Better to get out now, right?â
Iâve spent two months cursing Jase. âLow-level assistant jobs?â Really? Everybody starts out entry-level after graduation.
During college, I interned a few summers for Roberts Enterprises. My father, Michael Roberts, is the CEO there, and Iâm pretty sure he does want me to be his successor one day.
But I donât want his nepotism. Especially since heâs barely been a father to me.
All through growing up, I didnât even know who my father was. I was raised by my grandparentsâmy momâs parentsâon a farm in Texas. I love them to death. Theyâre all the family I need.
Michael Roberts randomly sent me an email during my sophomore year, a long, rambling thing apologizing for walking out on my mom before I was born. At the end of it he offered me an internship.
I went. I figured Iâd have to be crazy to pass up the opportunity. But now that I have my degree, itâs time to prove myself, rather than accepting more handouts.
Still. Working as an assistant to the CEO of one of Roberts Enterprisesâ competitors feels like asking for trouble.
âOi! Earth to Scar! Drink up; weâre celebrating!â Claudia hands me a glass of champagne before downing her own.
âTell us about your new boss,â Jackie suggests.
âI donât know much,â I admit. âHe didnât interview me; it was just some HR rep.â
âBut you will be working for Dominic Peters, the hottest billionaire bachelor in the country?â Beth clarifies.
âIâll be his executive assistant,â I explain. The girls squeal.
âThatâs so cool! No one has seen him since he took over the company from his dad; heâs so elusive,â Jackie gushes.
âGuys, seriously, Iâm excited about the job, not the man. And Iâm not even sure Iâm that excited about the job. What if thereâs a noncompete clause or something?â
âWorry about that later. For now, we celebrate,â Claudia says. âIâm getting shots!â And she runs off to the bar.
She comes back to our booth a minute later with a huge tray of tequila shots together with lime and salt. There must be at least fifty there. The three of us gape at the tray, then at her.
âClaudia, this is like, shots for the whole bar. How much did this cost you?â I ask.
âWe paid,â a male voice answers. A guy in a navy business suit with skater-like blond hair puts his arm around Claudiaâs shoulders, and she turns a deep shade of red.
âGirls, this is Eric,â she says, pointing to skater boy. âMatt,â a guy wearing a gray suit, white shirt, buzz cut. âLuke,â black suit, pale blue shirt, black hair.
All three of them are unfairly gorgeous. My friends trade glances, trying to figure out whoâs going to hit on who.
âOh, and this is Nic,â she adds, as a fourth guy shows up holding a rocks glass like he wasnât in the mood for shots.
This might be the hottest guy of all. Black suit, black shirt, black tie, light-brown hair, and piercing blue eyes surrounded by thick black glasses frames. I bite my lip looking at him and donât miss the way his eyes dart down to my mouth.
âSo, shots!â Matt says, sliding into the booth. We quickly partner off. Claudia with Eric, Beth with Matt, Jackie with LukeâŚand me with Nic.
Iâm not complaining at allâI mean, the guy is stunning. But Iâm still smarting after the breakup with Jase; I havenât slept with anyone since then.
I can practically see Nicâs muscles through his suit, but I know heâs a player just by looking at him. His piercing blue eyes scream lust.
Maybe thatâs a good thing. Maybe itâs time to sleep with someone new, no strings, no drama, and put Jase behind me for good.
I push a blonde curl behind my ear, and Nicâs eyes follow the action.
When we arenât staring at each other, his leg bumps mine under the table. Just that small touch sends my heart racing. His eyes drop to my black tank top, and Iâm thankful for the push-up bra thatâs helping my B cup.
Hold yourself together, Scarlett. Seriously!
At some point, I shake myself out of staring into Nicâs eyes yet again and realize that weâre the only two left at the table. Nic registers the look of shock on my face.
âEveryone else went to dance,â he explains. Itâs the first time Iâm hearing his deep, husky voice, and I can practically feel my ovaries quiver. Oh my god!
âOh, right,â I say, trying to sound semi-together.
âYou never said your name,â he prompts. I donât know if heâs actually asking me until he raises an eyebrow in question. He slides his black-framed glasses off his face, holding them casually in his hand.
âUhâŚyeahâŚScar. My name is Scar. I mean, Scarlett actually, Scarlett Miller. Everyone just calls me Scar,â I ramble.
Iâm seriously losing it. I should just check myself into a mental asylum now.
âYou have an accent,â he states. Again, Iâm unsure if itâs actually a question.
âUm, yes. Iâm originally from Dallas. Well, Irving, actually, but thatâs in Dallas County.â And there I go, rambling againâŚ
He nods slowly, a smirk plastered across his face.
I find myself leaning my elbows on the table just to get a closer look. This guy has to know heâs gorgeous. Even the glasses are sexy. Every part of me wants to just leap across the table and jump him.
Oh my god, did I just think that? Iâm a whoreâŚ
As though heâs reading my thoughts, Nic leans toward me across the table. His hand cups my face, and his thumb brushes along my bottom lip. Then, without warning, his lips press down on mine.
Iâm shocked at first, but it doesnât take me long to catch up. He bites at my bottom lip and I gasp, allowing his tongue to explore every corner of my mouth.
I breathe in his scent. Whatever cologne heâs wearing smells expensive; everything about him drips money.
He pulls away firstâand judging by his smirk, I donât mask my disappointment well. He slides out of the booth and extends his hand to me.
âDance?â
âUh, I canât reallyââ
âI can.â Of course you can. âIâll help.â
âNo, really, itâsââ
âGet up, Scarlett.â
Slowly I get up, taking his hand in mine. His large hand engulfs my small one, and suddenly heâs literally dragging me to the dance floor, pulling me close. My whole body starts to heat at his touch.
âReally,â I try again, âIâm not a very good dancer.â
Nic leans in, a smirk on his face. I feel his breath on my ear. His husky voice makes me melt.
âAny woman can dance; she simply needs a strong man.â His breath grazes my neck. âRelax your knees and just move with me.â
I feel like Baby from Dirty Dancingâalthough Iâm about ten times more uncoordinated.
One of Nicâs hands leaves my hip and brushes along my cheek.
âYou are incredibly sexy when you blush,â his husky voice says in my ear. My cheeks heat again, and he chuckles. âVery, very sexy.â
As Nic leads me back to our booth, I feel my phone buzz in the pocket of my skinny jeans. I press the phone to my ear and plug my other ear with my finger to block out the noise.
âHello!â
âScar, itâs me.â I can barely hear Beth over the club music. Iâve never understood why she insists on using her phone as a phone rather than texting like a normal person. âWeâre taking the boys back to our apartment. Bring Nic.â
âWait, what?â
I donât hear what else she says. Nic takes the phone off me and talks to Beth instead. When he hands me back the phone, he takes my hand and leads me outside.
I will probably never see this guy again.
Making the most of the moment, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips against his. Nic doesnât need any encouragement, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against him.
I feel his hand grab my butt and lift. I wrap my legs around him and almost forget weâre on a sidewalk in the middle of New York. Before I realize whatâs happening, Nic slides me into a waiting limo.
âAre you taking me to my apartment?â I ask, breaking the kiss for a breathless moment inside the car.
âMine,â he says with a smirk.
