BOSSY: A Virgin CEO Romance

I go to the study, turning on the computer to check my email, which I’ve been neglecting. Most is spam, but happily there’s a long email from Sophie. She seems to be settling in happily and is about to pledge to a sorority.

With a smile, I prop my feet on the desk and continue sorting through the correspondence. I respond to an email from the advisor at City College, inviting me to register online. I’ve already decided to enroll there, due to the proximity to our apartment. It’s silly to go halfway across the city for another college, with an equally good program, when I can walk to City College. I know registering there is another little step to committing myself to remaining with Jayson, but I’ve been feeling fewer doubts than ever.

Afterward, I turn my attention to the pile of mail stacked in the basket on the desk. Most of the envelopes are addressed to Jayson, or Satyros Corporation. There are a few invitations from people in our social circle, and I set those aside to discuss attending with Jayson. A few letters from various charities thank me for my “dedicated service.” I’m even gladder that someone else is doing that work for me.

The last envelope is thickly padded, with my name printed in neat block letters. I use the letter opener to slice open the flap and extract a stack of papers. In shock, I read through them, finding several emails addressed to my husband from Maia. All are extremely intimate, if not pornographic, and all of them speak of when they would be together again. Soon, apparently.

Searching for a hint of who sent the envelope, there’s nothing besides a postmark from New York. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s Maia. My stomach clenches with the realization that she has to be in New York.

For a moment, I sit in the chair, paralyzed with anger. How dare Maia come here? Jayson and I are on the cusp of a real marriage. That bitch will only be trouble.

My anger grows with the realization Jayson hasn’t bothered to inform me of the emails. If they’re unwanted, why hasn’t he told me? It’s just next to lying, and I refuse to put up with more lies.

Spurred into action, I stuff the pages back into the envelope and carry it upstairs with me. I put on a skirt and a nice blouse, not wanting to look out of place at the Satyros Corporation’s headquarters. The sensible approach would be to wait until Jayson comes home this evening to have a discussion, but frankly I can’t wait that long.

I take the limousine, deciding I’m too angry to focus on driving myself, and the last thing I want to do is wait for a taxi. The driver negotiates through the heavy traffic, finally reaching the building shortly before lunchtime.

He parks in the parking garage, and I tell him no when he wants to accompany me. I’ve got no need for his protection in the safety of the Satyros Corporation.

A fuchsia Lamborghini, with a plate from a national car rental agency, catches my attention as I near the elevator. It bothers me, though I can’t pinpoint why until I step into the elevator and press the button to the top floor. It’s such a flashy, sexy car and seems like the kind Maia would rent. Is she already here? Has she been in New York for a while? Is Jayson keeping her a secret until he knows if I’m staying? It’s not just the sudden stop of the elevator that makes my stomach turn when I reach the top floor.

Trying to look confident, I stride to the reception desk. I haven’t needed to deal with security before now, because the driver has the code to the employee parking garage. What if the receptionist refuses to let me see Jayson? What can I do, besides cause a scene and hope he hears?

The blonde has silvery hair, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. She’s svelte and makes the perfect ornament for Jayson’s inner sanctum. Has he slept with this woman, too?

The friendly smile she gives me changes her demeanor from one of an ice princess to a normal person. “Hello, Mrs. Satyros.”

I blink. I haven’t been to the building in years, since before this woman had started working here. “Do I know you?” Had we met at a company function, and I’ve forgotten?

The blonde shakes her head with a smile. “No, ma’am. I recognized you from the pictures in Mr. Satyros’s office.”

“Oh.” I don’t know how to respond to that. He keeps pictures of me? Why? I glance at her name plate and ask, “May I pop in for a moment, Kelly?”

She frowns slightly. “He’s with someone, Mrs. Satyros.”

Her tone sets the hairs on my neck upright. “Who?”

The other woman hesitates, which speaks volumes. I don’t wait for her reply. I ignore Kelly calling after me as I turn and walk toward Jayson’s office. With more force than I intend, I twist the knob and push, slamming the door against the wall. Family pictures of Jayson, Sophie, and me catch my attention momentarily. Focusing my gaze on Jayson, I’m unsurprised to find Maia standing beside him. The other woman leans against him, her lips near enough his that they could’ve been kissing just a millisecond earlier.

Jayson looks up, going pale. Maia turns toward me, smirking with satisfaction as she trails a finger down his chest. My husband’s chest.

“You whore.” I toss the envelope full of emails in their direction. “That is my husband you’re pawing.”

“Not for long,” coos Maia.

“Maia.” Jayson sounds angry. No doubt he is—angry that I’ve caught him with his mistress.

“I agree,” I say with surprising calm. I turn to Jayson. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Jayson, and I really don’t care. If this is about the stock, you can keep it. You can have everything, including the settlement stipulated in the marriage contract.”

“Harper…” He finally steps away from Maia, reaching toward me.

I jerk away, hissing vehemently, “Don’t touch me. I don’t want your filthy, lying, cheating hands on me.” Turning on my heel, I almost collide with a shocked Kelly, but sidestep her at the last moment. “Excuse me,” I say with ridiculous politeness and walk around the other woman.

“Wait, Harper,” Jayson shouts behind me. I speed up, in no mood to face him right now. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, and the sodden lump in my throat won’t allow me to talk, anyway. I refuse to cry in front of him. He’s seen enough of tears. He’s caused enough of them, too.

And I’ve wasted too many on him.

I reach the elevator with Jayson still following. I stab the “Close” button repeatedly, and it shuts before he makes it to the door. The ride down seems to take forever, and I rush out as soon as the doors open. Running, I make it to the limousine and climb inside before the driver even realizes I’m back. “Drive,” I say breathlessly.