CHAPTER29
I know that several heated calls have taken place in the last few days since the Hunter merger became public. I quickly learned how strained the father-son relationship is, and it’s not the first time we have evaded Carrero Senior. Jake either evades him or insists on antagonizing him in heated fights, usually in public. They have a deep-rooted conflict I’ve never pressed him about.
“Why didn’t you leave me out there to tell them you’re not here then?” I snap, keeping my voice low. I hate when he grabs me, yet it’s something he does frequently when he wants me to move in a hurry or get out of his way.
Wouldn’t kill you to just ask me to move!
“Because wherever you are, is where I usually am. He knows that!” I can’t argue with that logic. Jake seems to require my presence a lot more than I ever saw him with Margo.
His cell starts ringing in his pocket; he pulls it out, sighs, and drops it onto the couch, silencing it. I sigh at his hopelessness, my temper dissipating, and push my cool facade back into place as I take in the dejected look on his face.
So boyish at times.
He stretches his hands behind his head in that casual way he has and closes his eyes as I watch, bemused, but still irritated.
My boss, the man-child.
Sometimes endearing, but generally a huge irritation to my day.
“If we hide out here for ten minutes, he will fuck off,” he says with closed eyes, hands tucked behind his head and mimicking sleep.
“Jake,” I warn lightly; he rarely swears at work. He opens one eye and smiles at me as he turns sideways, lifts his feet onto the couch and slides down to get comfy.
Yes, this is the CEO of this empire!
“Power nap until he leaves my floor?” he winks. Even through the tailored suit, I can still make out the strong lines of his body and I glance away to steady myself, focusing instead on a rail of clothes in here. Distraction always works. Mostly.
When was the last time he used any of the suits hanging in here? Focus on the suits!
I’m pretty sure the black Armani is the one he had sent in for the banquet we never attended. I should have it returned, I think to myself, and make a note on the iPad.
He pats the sofa next to him suggestively, a mischievous Carrero glint in his eye, but I continue with my notes, refusing to make eye contact.
“I think not, Mr. Carrero,” sighing inwardly at the man I have to deal with every day. He’s never dull, anyway.
“Your loss.” He closes his eyes again. We pause as we hear voices in the next room, faint and distant, that quickly evaporate as the intruders leave again, both of us silent and still.
“You’ve a meeting in about fifteen minutes; I’m sure half those people are going to be in it,” I point out, sounding unamused and bored.
“I’ll just imply I was busy elsewhere,” he shrugs, refusing to open those eyes and managing to look crazily attractive in this pose. I sigh.
“Busy doing what?”
“Busy in a closet with my PA trying out the softness of the couch,” he smirks, opening one eye and then the other slowly, to grin at me.
“I’m not having you imply we were up to no good somewhere in this building. Do you know how quickly that would get around the temp pool?” I respond calmly; this is a repetitive conversation which only makes me sigh again. Only I would get lumbered with a boss as trying as this, who loves nothing more than to stress me out. The sexual innuendos never run out with him, nor do the jokes about implicating us."
