The CEO's Ex-Wife

Chapter 8

I’ve hit my stride at the diner. It’s only been a couple of weeks but I’m starting to get to know the regulars. I’ve developed a rapport with customers and I’m confident handling the til now as well as working tables. Charlie, Marie, Bob, and I, get along amazingly well. There four of us are together every day. There’s quite a number of casual staff popping in and out, that I’ve been getting to know also. Most are students. So far there haven’t been any issues with staff conflict, for which I am grateful. It’s nice not having all the pressure of leadership and decision-making. Today was another uneventful day, though I’m nervous about the afternoon.

This afternoon is my first day of work with Jay. Once I’m home from the diner, I take my time getting ready. Partly because my body is still adjusting to walking everywhere and standing on my feet all day. Partly because dressing for an office feels more normal to me. Last night I called Maria in a panic when I realized I had nothing to wear.

When I left Matthew I took a small backpack with a few items I could grab quickly. Yoga pants, a couple of shirts. I didn’t take anything nice. No dresses. No nice shirts. No fancy shoes. I grabbed a few things for comfort and maneuverability. Mostly workout clothes. The black stretchy yoga pants and a plain tee have become my diner uniform. In hindsight, I should have grabbed some cash and a handful of jewelry. But I didn't even take my wedding rings. I left those as a symbol that I was leaving all that crap behind me.

Maria picked me up and we spent a few hours raiding the local thrift shops. Now, I’m showered, washed and I’ve dried my hair. I feel clean and fresh. I don’t have any makeup yet. I slip on the knee-length, dark navy pencil skirt and blue and cream striped blouse I found. I cinch a fat black belt around my waist and examine my reflection. I don’t look like a perfect designer-clad CEO anymore, but I’m presentable. I slip on some black pumps, they’re slightly loose but in perfect condition. I don’t think the previous owner ever wore them. I’m not walking far and I can kick them off in the office if they irritate me. I’m happy. I’m ready.

After getting ready I head over to the small office in the development. The office building is basically a model townhouse apartment. It was designed to be sold off as a home when the office here was no longer needed. Jay says his parents liked the convenience of having a home office where they could host guests or functions so they decided to keep it. They were active with the community and chamber of commerce. It’s only 10 minutes from their actual home.

The building is about ten years old now but well kept. Mottled, aged-looking brick siding with huge windows and black shutters, give the place a historic-like charm. The garden out the front boasts a manicured lawn, neatly trimmed evergreen shrubs. Two large urn planters flank the front door and two more flank the garage, or what would be the garage. In this case, what would be the garage door is a large glass wall with a sliding door. Delicate small white flowers spill from the planters, their leaves and stems are so fine they almost appear to float in and around the dual-toned purple petunias. A spikey attention-grabbing green grass thing shoots up from the center. It’s charming and welcoming.

Jay spots me through the glass and comes out to greet me. Dressed in light khaki dockers and a forest green polo. The color compliments his caramel skin and deep brown eyes. He looks delectable.

Snap out of it Ayla.

“Good afternoon,” he smiles at me.

His smile is genuine but I still feel like there's some sadness he’s hiding. I wonder what the military was like for him. What did he see that made him this way? I wonder if I’ll ever see what he hides behind that handsome mask of his.

“Good afternoon,” I respond. And shoot my hand out to shake his. Years of meeting new clients have ingrained that reaction in me. Right now I feel like a moron. He shakes my hand firmly and smiles again.

Great start, Ayla. You’re an i***t.

He’s given me a desk next to his. It’s nothing like the vast glass corner office in New York, but this somehow feels more homely. The office itself is relatively plain, but it’s in a literal home, you can almost feel the years of love pouring from its walls. A faint smell of vanilla and the warm wood floors make this place feel so welcoming.

The master bedroom and one other bedroom are maintained for guests or for show. It doesn't seem like they’ve been used for either in a while. It seems like a waste of usable space. I wonder why Jay sacrificed the rent from a whole apartment for me. Staying here seems more logical. The third and smallest bedroom is a converted storage room. This is where office supplies were kept on shelving along a back wall, as well as a dozen filing cabinets. I have a headache just thinking about what might be in there. I can’t imagine that many filing cabinets are necessary. This man must keep everything.

All three bedrooms are upstairs, just like in my apartment, only these bedrooms are all slightly larger. Downstairs, besides the large converted garage office, there is a sizable open living area, dining area, and a kitchen. Off the kitchen are French doors leading to the small backyard. There’s a bathroom and a laundry room downstairs also. Unlike my place, this one has an extra front room that could be used as a tv room or office, this one is set up as a small living room.

Jay spends the first hour familiarizing me with what he knows of his parent's property management company, and what he needs from me. His father managed most of the business and his mother was happy to let him do it all. Jay, having been away with the military for 20 years, has a basic understanding of the business, and despite years of managing people, this kind of work is new to him. He and his mother have been fumbling to figure it out exactly what his father had going on. That’s what Jay needs me for.

“Honestly,” Jay says, “We’re not even sure we know where all his properties are or what is in the business accounts. My father’s will listed properties my mother didn’t even know he owned.”

“I’ll help you figure it all out,” I reply with a smile. I imagine this will be quite a headache. I hope there aren’t tax problems to deal with. That is never fun.

I spend the next half hour quietly reading through files and his dad’s documents on the computer, trying to figure out where exactly to start.

Occasionally my eyes flutter to Jays’ face, wondering what lay behind that emotionless mask he shows. Maria had said he was fun, lively, adventurous.etc.

When my stomach growled loudly reminding me that I had not eaten since I left the diner. I hadn’t had the time to shop yet so there was nothing edible in my apartment. Before I had time to ponder this problem fully, Jay spoke.

“How about we order take out?”

“Oh.” I am starving but I don’t really have money to splash around frivolously.

“My shout,” He adds as if he senses the reason for my hesitation.

“Oh, Thank you. No, I can’t let you do that. You’re already doing so much for me” This man was giving me housing, I couldn’t accept meals from him too. I had no desire to be a kept woman again.

“Tommy’s Pizza or Thai?” He says.

Did he even hear me?

I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it, stepping from behind his desk, rounding it, and approaching me.

“I’m not offering dinner every night here. No expectations. It’s been a long day we’re both hungry,” he indicates my stomach, “I’m thanking you for helping me sort this headache out.”

He smiles softly. It’s an adorable smile, but something about his demanding tone, his expectation of unyielding compliance, reminds me of Matthew. It irks me. My belly growls again, my body betraying me, his smile widens a little like he knows he won. He perches on the corner of my desk, waiting for an answer. I’m torn. My breathing shallows. He’s so close. He towers above me, his muscles are taught in his clothing. He could do anything to me here and no one would hear me scream. I am an i***t for agreeing to this. He smiles patiently. He smells softly of oak forests. No one that smells that good could be a serial killer. I realize that despite my minor internal panic attack, I really don’t think he would hurt me.

“Thai,” I decide.

I request the chicken satay, the spring rolls, and I get pad Thai. I feel a little guilty about ordering so much but those are all my favorites. I can’t decide and I am starving right now. He didn’t even flinch at the excess or expense. I vow to pay him back eventually.

Jay makes the call and I dive back into reading. Now I know that food is on the way it’s hard to concentrate. My belly is squirming uncomfortably. I glance across to see Jay engrossed in whatever he’s reading on the computer. Suddenly he turns and smiles at me.

“Something wrong?” He asks.

“Thank you,” I say, because ‘sorry I was bedazzled by your handsomeness’ would probably be weird.

The food arrives 45 minutes after he ordered it. Jay takes care of the delivery guy and I head to the kitchen. Its nice having a proper kitchen, proper plates, proper cutlery. Jay sets the food down and thank him, the forks slip from my hand landing on a plate with a loud clatter. I feel clumsy and embarrassed. Not just for dropping the fork but this whole, suddenly single independent and now eating dinner with an attractive, quiet stranger thing.

Surprisingly, dinner is comfortable. I ask, and he tells me, about his parents. I see the love shining through as he speaks. He obviously has a great relationship with them despite the years he’s spent far from home. His parents met in Korea when his dad was stationed there with the army. That explains why he looks like a brown-eyed Brandon Lee.

“You’re dad sounds like a great man.”

“He would have liked you.” He says.

“How so?” I can’t help but ask.

“You’re smart, positive, you don’t judge, and you’re gorgeous.” He responds.

I choke a little on a bite of Pad Thai.

I bet I don’t look gorgeous now. Coughing and blushing like a lunatic.

He’s sweet and reserved. I love that he’s opened up a bit. Maybe I’m reading too much into his earlier alpha male moment.