The CEO's Ex-Wife

Chapter 7

The next morning at work I told Maria about how desperately I needed somewhere else to live. I felt like a total whiner pouring my heart out, but she asked for it and was pretty insistent. The morning was slow and I did need someone to vent to. So we chatted while we refilled salt and pepper shakers, and the maple syrup bottles.

“I actually thought we were growing closer,” I whined.

I’d opened up and bared my bleeding soul. Only to feel like I’d armed my mother with more emotional ammunition. I feel like an i***t for allowing myself to get hurt again. Hearing her words, after everything with Matthew and his emotional abuse, made me feel like she’d literally ripped out the remains of my heart and stomped on it, grinding it into useless pink sludge.

“ I can’t stay where I’m not wanted,’ I scowled while rolling napkins and cutlery sets.

“She’s your mother darling. I’m sure she wants you,” Maria responded kindly.

I offered a weak smile, “maybe”

But I knew. She wanted Daniel, the brilliant, popular son. She wanted Emma the replacement daughter. She honestly never wanted me.

“I’ve actually thought about your housing arrangement before now and I have an idea about that,” Maria said.

I frowned, “What is it?”

“I’ll tell you later.” We’ve got customers.

“Great so that’ll be on my mind all day. Thank you Maria,” I reply sarcastically.

The pace picked up at lunchtime so the rest of the day we were busy. At shift's end, Maria dragged me toward a man at the end of the counter. I felt my gaze wander over his handsome face and perfect form. I couldn’t resist. His black hair was cropped short but styled, like a slightly scruffy, Asian Captain America. When he looked my way, his eyes reminded me of dove chocolate, a smooth, creamy brown. Yet I detected a sadness there. Interesting.

“Ayla, this is Jay. Jay, Ayla. Jay is my cousin. He owns a set of apartments and needs help managing them. I’ve spoken to him about you and here’s what’s going to happen. Jay is going to drive you home. You're going to grab your stuff. He’ll take you to your new apartment.”

“Um… are you firing me?” I need this job I can’t be fired already.

“Of course not! It’s only been a week and you’re the smartest, sweetest worker I’ve ever had. I’m taking you under my Mama bird wing. You’ll help Jay at night.”

I must have looked briefly horrified as she rushed on.

“Oh, darlin' it’s nothing like that. Jay inherited a lot of properties and is figuring out how to run a business from scratch. Ayla, you have a background in business and you can help get him on track. No one in this town has more experience running a business or managing real estate than you.”

“That’s an exaggeration. Matthew…”

“Uh uh, darlin’ I’ve seen the way you handle people and you’re a natural. You had to have a big hand in running that empire. You were businesswoman of the year that time for nothin’.”

“What do you mean my apartment? I can’t afford an apartment on my own yet.”

“In exchange for helping Jay run the business, you’ll get a rent-free apartment.”

My jaw literally dropped. That was one sweet deal. What was the catch?

“Thank you,” I said to Maria and then again to Jay.

Jay nodded but showed no emotion. Maybe he’s shy. Maybe he’s not happy about this arrangement and Maria bullied him into it. That’s likely. This proposal definitely had a 'too good to be true' feel about it.

“Go get your stuff girl,” she ordered.

“You’re ok with this?” I asked Jay.

He nodded again. A man of few words apparently.

I took off to retrieve my bag from the locker.

When I returned, Jay and Maria were having a hushed conversation, maybe an argument. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. They stopped talking when they saw me approach.

God, I am an inconvenience to everyone.

I was shaking heading out the door with Jay. I was about to get in a car with a strange man, a very delectable looking strange man, a man who didn’t seem too keen on me and move into an apartment he owns. Risky. What if he was a serial killer or something? I don’t get that vibe though. Somehow I just know he won’t hurt me.

He led me to a bright sky blue Jeep and opened the front passenger door for me.

“Thank you,” I said, much softer than I had intended. God, he must think I’m a wimp.

He nodded again, his handsome face impassive.

“You’ll have to direct me.” He finally spoke, his voice was deep and sexy. Damn.

“Of course.”

“Do you have much? I can help.” He offered.

I glanced at his mesmerizing brown eyes.

“Not much, I can manage.”

The drive was so short we didn’t really talk much.

Five minutes later we pulled up in front of my mothers’ red brick house. Once stopped, I lept from the car and set to my task. Thankfully, my mother was not home. I didn’t want to deal with that at the moment. Within minutes I’d packed my meager belongings. I stood by my bed and scanned my room one last time. A strange wave of nostalgia rolled through me. The situation with Matthew had turned me into an emotionally crazy person. I’m usually so much better at controlling my emotions. Perhaps it’s time for Zoloft or something.

Struck with a random thought, I dropped the backpack, crawled under the bed, and felt around under the edges of the box spring. My fingers found my target and I retrieved a small book. This was the diary of teenage me. I can’t believe it’s still here. How had she not discovered it? I flipped through it. Occasionally, I’d write my thoughts like a traditional diary, mostly though it was collections of poems I liked or song lyrics that spoke to me. I tucked the book in my backpack and left.

Stopping by the kitchen on my way out, I left a short note for Mom. I didn’t think she would worry about me, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Just-in-case.

“All set?” He confirmed, when I climbed back in.

I smiled, “yes, thank you.”

He nodded. He offered a half-smile that did not quite reach his eyes. I wonder what it will take for this man to open up?

I turned for one last look at the house. A twinge of guilt prickled my conscience as I thought of the note I’d left my mother. Perhaps I should have stayed to apologize,

“Jay?”

“Yes”

“What’s your last name?” I should have thought to ask this earlier. I should have googled him or something. What if I was moving in next door to Charles Manson?

“You don’t remember?” He asked and co.cked an eyebrow.

“No, I’m afraid I’ve been away a long time. Did we know each other? I’m sorry. Now I feel like an i***t, I’m usually really good with names and faces.”

“Jay Summers. We did meet a couple of times but you were very young. Only 14, I think. I was a friend of your brothers’ from football. I joined the army right out of high school and left when I was 17.”

“17? I thought you had to be 18? “ I asked.

“They can make exceptions if you have parental permission,” he replied.

“And your parents were ok with that? You were so young.”

“My dad was military, and his dad before him. Besides, you were only 17 when you left for college I heard.” He smiled at me, more genuinely this time. He is really quite attractive.

“College is not brutal army training.”

“I imagine it can be.” He smiled and his whole face lit up with a twinkle of mischief.

“Did you want to go to college?” I couldn't help but ask.

“I did. I studied at Westpoint.” He noticed my jaw drop. “It was...intense.” He gifted me another cheeky smile. “And later at Webster University.”

“Oh.”

What an i***t I am.

“Why did you leave the army?” I ask.

He didn’t answer right away, “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that too personal? My apologies.” I’m such an i***t - again.

“No, it’s ok. I did my 20 years. I’m retired now.” He replies. But I noticed his face had regained the hard edge. I wondered where he’d been sent and what the army had done to him in those 20 years. I sensed there was definitely a story there.

“Retired? at 37? Goodness,” I remarked.

“We’re here,” he announced.

Thank god! Usually, I was quite adept at engaging people in small talk, making them feel relaxed, but something about this man made me a little nervous.

He parked. And by the time I’d un-clicked my belt and grabbed my bag, he had opened my door. An old-fashioned gesture, but I loved it. So sweet.

“Thanks.” A smile spread as my face heated.

“This is the office.” He waved his hand, indicating the townhouse he parked in front of.

“I’ll show you your Apartment.” He grabbed my backpack from my hand and slung it over his shoulder.

The apartments were rows of neat brick townhouses. Each had a small courtyard out front, a grass-lined path ran along the front, leading to each house. A short, decorative wrought iron fence ringed each small yard. The landscaping was plain but neat. Mostly boxwoods and trim grass. Each townhouse had its own individual flare based on it’s inhabitants. One had more wind chimes than I’ve ever seen in one spot and a beaded curtain hanging at one end of the porch.. Most had a few potted plants. One had 4 oddly dressed skeletons sitting on a bench on the front porch, even though Halloween was 7 months ago.

He led me to the second to last townhouse on the front row. “You’re here.”

There was nothing distinguishing about my small front yard. When I earn a few dollars though, I figure I could get a few flowers to brighten it up a bit. He unlocked the door for me and handed me the key. Thank god it was furnished. I couldn’t afford to otherwise. The furnishings weren’t going to win a spot on HGTV, but everything was clean and looked sturdy. He gives a quick tour of the apartment. Through the front door, you walk into an open-plan lounge area, a kitchen dining area off to the left. There’s also a small laundry room and a half bath on this floor. The stairs lead to a small mezzanine floor. Off that there’s an extra bathroom, three bedrooms- two small, one large with an ensuite.

It was much bigger and nicer than I had expected. Certainly, more than I could have afforded on diner tips. I can’t believe he was giving me this place for free. An icy chill rolled down my spine. God, what was he expecting in return?

“I’m right next door if you need anything.” He pointed in the direction of the end apartment and walked out the door.

I rushed after him.

“Wait.” He turned to look at me.

“Don’t you need me to look at your books?” I wanted to make it clear that I would earn my keep.

“Not tonight, Ayla. Let’s start tomorrow.” His lips curled in another half-smile.

I felt a slight warm rush when he said my name. From his lips, it sounded sultry and sexy. I mentally slapped myself. A minute ago I was worried that his intentions weren’t pure. Now my racing heart suggested I would be happy if they weren’t.

“Thank you, Jay. For everything.”

“It’s me that should be thanking you. I get personal tutoring from one of the country’s most famous businesswomen,” he replied.

My cheeks flushed. He took a small step toward me.

“I get the CEO of Roberts International for the price of this small apartment. That is a deal.” He smiled genuinely.

“Co-CEO,” I corrected quietly. How did he know so much about me?

“See you tomorrow.” He said backing down the path a few steps.

“Thanks again,” I call after him.