The CEO's Proposition

Chapter 5

SAVANNAH

“What? ‘You looked exhausted? That’s the difference between us?’” Riley quoted Sofia’s words in rage. We were now at the bar, drinking our favorite cocktails. “I will cut her tongue when I see her.”

Wesley laughed that he almost teared up. “Are you sure that’s Sofia?”

“Why would she lie about it?” I said.

Riley hugged me. “That’s okay. Let’s just forget about her.”

“Yes, so let’s change the subject. Hey, I sent my resume,” I told Wes. “Did you get it?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t show it to my boss,” Wes replied. “He’s busy with something the CEO asked him to do.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

Wesley clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Great. You know I really need your marketing knowledge and organizational skills. You’ve helped Amara with your ideas. I’m surprised she let you go.”

Edward was still her nephew. Of course, she’d choose him. “Nah. I’m glad she let me go.”

“Listening to you sounds exhausting,” Riley suddenly commented. “I still think owning a restaurant was better.”

Wes grabbed his glass of scotch and drank it straight. “Not everyone can cook as well as you.”

Riley blinked her eyes, cupping her own face. “That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Yeah, just don’t let it get to your head,” Wes joked, chuckling.

They were just like Michael and me.

“But I still can’t believe that’s Sofia,” Riley inserted.

“She asked me about Edward,” I said.

“Of course she did.” Riley sneered, sniffing the scent of her apple martini. “Like, ninety percent of girls in school had a crush on your husband. Just so we’re clear, I’m included in the ten percent.”

I clicked my tongue. “But I refuse to believe that. They were close, and Edward was kind to her, but I’m sure it was nothing like that.”

“So, what did you say to her?” Wes asked.

“After seeing her looking like that? I told her Edward was fine. I was insecure, okay?” I confessed. They were my friends. I didn’t hide things from them. Ever.

“There, you got your answer,” Wes said. “It wasn’t about why she asked about your soon-to-be ex-husband. It’s because she reappeared as a totally different woman from the past. You probably used to think she’s a little, just a little, inferior to you.”

“That’s mean. Do you really have to say that?” I pouted. Wes was probably right, and I didn’t want to admit it. Sofia was so pretty she looked like a ray of sunshine on a stormy night. Her face was so small and so smooth, like a baby. She looked younger and also walked like a supermodel.

“Don’t add salt to the wound, Wes,” Riley said. “Who cares if she’s prettier... and... and sexier now? I’d be pissed if a friend said that to me. We used to be best friends. The four of us. You don’t say those things to your friend.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“So what if she’s different?” Wes shook his head. “She has already forgotten about us for half a decade. Let’s just leave her be and move on.”

Riley and I let out an exhale of frustration simultaneously.

“Anyway, I need to borrow your phone. May I?” I asked.

“Sure.” Riley took out her phone and gave it to me.

I tried ringing my cell. It rang.

“Hey!” I squeaked. “It’s on.”

“Really?” Riley glanced at the screen. I put it on the loudspeaker and called again when no one answered.

“Don’t you have cloud storage? Why not just buy a new phone and end your misery?” Wes suggested.

“Yes, for my important files. Except for the private—” I paused, closing my eyes. I didn’t expect to tell them this, “—private pictures there, okay? What if someone tried to hack into my phone?”

“What the f**k?” Wes gave me a surprised, disturbed look. “Please don’t tell us it’s a s*x video.”

How dare he? “It’s not! It’s just, uh, whatever!”

They were just photos of me in see-through lingerie. I only showed it to Edward.

“I just want to make sure it’s gone before I call my telcos,” I added, referring to the sexy stranger.

“How do you even know that when no one’s answering?” Riley pointed out.

“Someone will!” Eventually. I groaned inwardly and texted my number instead.

“This is the phone owner. Please answer the call.” I sent it many times and then called again.

Someone finally answered.

RAFAEL

My brothers thought I didn’t have a life. Well, they were wrong.

I had a life.

I ate, slept, worked, and made billions.

Oh, and of course... I f****d.

I carried the family name for twelve years after being CEO, meeting every expectation my father threw at me, growing the business, and raising the stocks.

That was what life was about to me. I didn’t know anything worth more than that.

After spending an exhausting day at the Metropolitan Picture’s event, smiling in front of the cameras and answering boring interviews, I went to a local bar for a couple of drinks. A woman named Ashley kept me company, and she talked about random things. I wasn’t really paying attention. But to end the story short, I took her to a suite at the Hilton Inn, where I was now tangling through her blonde hair—groaning as I rocked against her. She was meeting each grinding pulse of my hips, panting at each feral drive.

In the past hour, I f****d her in the shower, against the wall, and pinned her legs to the couch while I devoured her p***y. I liked it when they were loud, writhing violently beneath me whenever I hit their erogenous zones.

This had been quite satisfying—fun, but this feeling wouldn’t last long. It never stayed. Ashley was only one of my escapades.

She orgasmed multiple times before I came. I pulled out of her, tossed the condom into the trash, and stepped down from the bed. We’d both fulfilled tonight’s purpose, so another round was unnecessary.

I needed to get out of here. My flight back to New York was in two hours. Owning a private jet didn’t give me the right to be unpunctual.

Ashley rolled over the mattress, exposing breasts and bare p***y. “Are you leaving now?” she whispered huskily.

“Yes.” I pulled my pants and zipped up.

“Will we ever meet again?”

“I don’t think so.” I didn’t tell her my name or anything about myself. She knew what to expect when she came with me. I just didn’t do that with any woman. I never stayed the night.

I slid my shirt on as she watched. She pouted.

“Shame. That was the best s*x I have ever had in a while. I’ll have a hard time forgetting about you.”

“Glad to know that.” I picked up my wristwatch, put it on, and grabbed my wallet and suit jacket. “Are you staying here, or do you want me to drop you off somewhere?”

She smiled, studying me. “Mm... I didn’t see you as a gentleman.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She laughed softly. “But thanks, but no thanks. I left my car at the bar, and I’m starving, so...”

“Good. Thanks for the night.”

Her mouth with smeared lipstick quirked up. “You’re welcome, gorgeous.”

***

“Sir, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you are on a celebrity gossip site,” Billy said in the middle of our flight.

“What?!” I didn’t want to entertain it, knowing it was fake news. I didn’t remember anything that could ruin my name, but I was curious. “What does it say?”

“The new Mrs. Blanchet just filed for divorce.”

Zoey? I gritted through my teeth. “What does it have to do with me?” I asked, but I had already had an idea what it was about.

“That you are the reason. Should I read more?”

Last week, I was photographed with Zoey Blanchet, the young wife of a French bank magnate and old acquaintance. She was an opera singer. I watched her play, was introduced backstage and had a one-night stand. I supposed her husband didn’t know about it when he invited my father to his wife’s birthday party. Alexandre was one of my Dad’s friends too, so I attended on his behalf.

Zoey approached me. We danced, she flirted, snatched me and kissed me in a dark room at her husband’s mansion (her first move; I was surprised). But that was all. I left the party because I didn’t want complications. Some people already wanted me to fail in the corporate world.

“Forget it. It was already published.” I knew where it led anyway. I was more worried about what Dad would say.

“What should we do about this?”

Was he really asking me? It wasn’t even counted as a problem. “Don’t do anything because I normally don’t. It’ll pass. Anything else worthy to hear?”

“Carter sent me a proposal for PeekFlix.”

He should’ve said that first. “Forward it to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Billy didn’t bother me after that. I closed my eyes and listened to the songs my sister-in-law, Anya, had proposed to me for Ophelia Grant’s new album. It was refreshing and eargasmic that I’d relaxed in my seat.

An hour later, we landed in Manhattan, and my driver drove me to my penthouse on Fifth Avenue.

I sat behind my desk and opened my emails as soon as I arrived. I opened the PeekFlix proposal with Billy’s approved corrections.

It didn’t say Sebastian Entertainment was aiming for the largest stake, but the presentation showed my company wanted its full operation. The new data would profit more than they had in the current management while still keeping a minority share, so Emilio had nothing to lose. Although I could still foresee resistance, I was ready for a generous offer. Julian, my brother and chief of operations, was confident with the plan.

Carter should send the initial proposal to Sue as soon as possible before Emilio comes to Manhattan next week.

Shutting off my computer and thinking of getting a shower, something suddenly buzzed in my inside pocket. It was that woman’s phone.

I checked the screen. Some Riley was calling. At eleven thirty in the evening.

Who the hell calls this late?

This Riley probably didn’t know the owner had lost her phone, but I wouldn’t answer. I’d already asked my assistant to take care of this and retrieve my cell.

The call dropped, and a message came into the notification.

This is the phone’s owner. Please answer the call...

I see.

It rang again, so I answered this time.

“Hello?”

There was a long pause and whisperings in the line.

“Hello?” I repeated.

“Oh, hey! Hello, um...” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for answering. I’m calling from my friend’s phone.” Her voice was low-pitched but still feminine and throaty.

“Go on, just ask him,” another voice spoke. I supposed ‘Riley’ was a woman.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I was wondering if I could get my phone back?” she asked. Her friend said something I didn’t hear again, but she shushed her.

I leaned on my chair. “Sure, you can. But not at this hour.”

“Of course not right now.” She chortled and inhaled on the phone as though she were holding her breath.

“Where are you calling from?”

“I’m in, um,” she paused, “in Manhattan.”

So she was close. She was probably trying to call for days. “I’ll have it delivered to you if you give me your name and address. I suppose you have my phone?”

“Yes, I have it, but I can’t give you my name or address. Can we meet instead?”

She was careful. That was smart. I understood a person’s privacy.

“It’s alright. When and where do you want to meet?”

“Oh, let me think about that one. Give me a sec.” She whispered again in the background. I presumed she was talking to her friend. Then, a man’s voice joined. I guess that was the boyfriend.

“Hello?” She returned to the line.

“Yes?”

“Here’s the time and location...”

I grabbed a pen and paper.

“Pegasus Cafe at Shelton Suites, seven o’clock p.m. Is seven okay?”

I wrote what she said. That building was only two blocks away from mine.

“Can we make it after seven?” Seven was when I left the office. Sending someone else would be inconvenient since I assumed she remembered me as I recalled her. I would take my phone, give hers back, and then leave. Simple.

“How do I know you’ll be there?” I hated wasting time.

“I’ll be there,” she promised. “Wait. Could you at least tell me how I should address you?”

“Rafael.”

“Rafael,” she whispered. The way she said my name sounded sensual in her raspy voice.

“You?”

“I’m Savannah, or just call me Savi.”

Beautiful name. “See you tonight at seven, Savannah.”

I dropped the call. But after a few moments, I contemplated how I actually enjoyed that short conversation.