CHAPTER48
He eats breakfast in the living room while reading through papers in his trademark jeans and T-shirt; he’s barefoot and his hair is still ruffled and damp from his shower. He looks nothing like the CEO of the company I first met, and every bit a random guy on a weekend. It somehow feels a bit too domestic.
Felicity is sound asleep in his room, giving us some much-needed peace before her screeching voice grates on my nerves again. I am glad of her absence; for some reason her presence today is annoying me way more than normal.
He doesn’t seem interested in any kind of work yet, and I’m glad. I’m trying to stay as still as possible, lying in my space on the couch beside him. It’s the only way the nausea and sore head are bearable as I try to concentrate on the laptop on my thighs. The screen won’t stay in focus and I’m finding it hellish. I sigh, sliding it onto the table and lying down properly, resting my head on the cushioned arm. He gives me a knowing smirk, and I glare at him in response. I’m so not in the mood for him to tease me right now.
Yes, I’m hungover, Jake. So, what!
I should maybe remind him of how many times I’ve seen him legless and stumbling into hotel rooms at stupid o’clock. I’ve seen sunglasses-wearing, grouchy, next-day Jake many times over the past few months.
He finally puts down his mug of coffee and The New York Times and throws a glance at me. He shifts towards me into his ‘I’m getting ready to chat’ pose, and I groan inwardly. I’m suffering and I would really like to stay silent for the entire day.
Cool, composed Emma is on vacation right now.
“You want to talk about last night?” He looks me straight in the eye, all Mr. Serious, and my hair stands on end.
“Last night?” A memory of it, for a start, might be helpful.
He watches me carefully, and I shift in my space a little uncomfortably, unsure what’s so engrossing.
What did I do last night besides getting smashed? What does he want to talk about?
“Drunk Emma, as fun as she was, isn’t someone I’ve ever met.” He eyes me accusingly. I already feel apprehensive about his tone.
“Or will likely to again, seeing as I feel like hell,” I grimace, hauling my arm over my eyes so I don’t need to look at him; he’s studying me a little too intensely.
“You want to continue our conversation?” he pushes on, regardless of my ‘go away’ posture, laying his hand casually on my bent knee. It rests quite happily there.
“What conversation?” I ask, genuinely confused, but stay concealed under my arm, my gut churning knowing I may not like this.
“You don’t remember?” The surprise in his voice makes me a little wary. I shake my head as the color rises in my cheeks; Jake never presses for no reason.
What the hell did I say to him last night?
“I put you to bed.”
Well, that explains why my cell was off.
He turns his off every night, whereas I normally don’t. Just in case I’m needed.
“Thanks,” I mumble. I want to ask him what I said, but I don’t because I’m scared. I’m scared I might actually have told him something I didn’t want him to know.
“You talked about your father,” he says matter-of-factly.
Crap. Like that.
The anger rises in me unexpectedly and it’s too quick to grind back down.
“He’s not my father! He’s just a donor to my existence and nothing more,” I snap, jumping to my feet; his hand falls to the couch, surprising him. The heat rises in my chest; teen Emma’s anger has renewed with a fury, and I’m pissed at myself for her appearance once again. I angrily storm to the kitchenette; I need water and a second to calm down.
And a boss who damn well stops digging into stuff that has nothing to do with him.
“And Ray?” The question is so precise and unimposing yet has a devastating effect on me. Stomach lurching to my throat, I falter and drop my water bottle hard on my foot, giving out a shocked yelp and jumping back as pain sears through my toes.
“Are you okay?” He leans around, looking at me. His eyes are steady on me as I scramble back, but my head reels as I bend down to retrieve the Evian bottle. I take a deep breath through the instant dizziness.
Control, Emma. Control.
I stand back up slowly and deliberately, letting it pass."
