The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 71

It’s after midnight when I’m woken by the buzz of my cell sliding across my nightstand. I reach out to it, fuzzy from fatigue and blurry eyed, disorientated.

“Emma Anderson.” I breathe huskily without opening my eyes. I’m on auto pilot.

“Where are you?” That bark has me sit up with a start.

Crap. Jake!

He sounds pissed and I’m too frazzled with sleep for this, shocked awake with his surprise contact.

“New York,” I gulp, suddenly reeling by the fact he’s finally calling me.

Is he back on the boat?

I get a tinge of regret at leaving.

“You’re at your apartment?” he’s grumpy and coldly distant.

“Yes.” Is the only reply I can give; I sound so vulnerable and young it annoys me. There’s a silence and a tension crackling on the line. I rub my eyes in a bid to feel less zombie like, pinch my cheek to waken me up more, hands trembling.

“You cut your vacation short?” he starts, his voice softer, but still tinged with irritation.

“Yes … I wasn’t in the mood for any more surf and sun, Mr. Carrero.” I hope he hears the sarcasm in my voice. Did he really think I would stay out there without him and hang out with his friends for a full two weeks? Again, another agonizing silence.

“Good, because we need to be back at it … The Hunter merger has encountered issues. I need you at the office tomorrow.” He’s in business Carrero mode, all affection and humor devoid.

“Will you be there?” I’m trying to sound as cool as him, but that rising warmth of hope lift its head and I scold it back down.

Get a grip, Emma, stop being pathetic.

“No … I’m still elsewhere … You can handle things for a couple of days.” A curt response and I want to cry.

“Yes, sir.” I hate that it sounds childish and weak … He’s caught me off guard. I’m half asleep and crumbling at the way he’s being, still aching for some of my normal Jake to shine through, but he’s completely gone.

“I’ll be back Friday. I want a full report on my return.” His tone is still icy and flat. I miss my Jake. It’s obvious that whatever he left for, is still in his head, that despite the distance, he isn’t going to talk about it. He’s making it clear that now our relationship is all business, no hints of care, or friendship, anymore.

“Very good, Mr. Carrero.” PA Emma raises a haughty head and pushes feeble out of the way.

Well fuck you very much, Mr. Cold and Moody, Yes, sure, I shall jump, because you’ve demanded it.

“Enjoy the rest of your trip.” I press sarcastically, knowing that will only piss him off more.

“I intend to.” It’s raspy and almost threatening, but it has the desired effect and I’m glad he hangs up before the sob surfaces. The wound in my chest turning into a crater. Leaving me alone with a silent line and not even a goodbye.

I fucking hate you … Bastard!

I throw my cell across the room, uncaring if I smash it.

Screw you! Maybe I’ll resign. I don’t want to work for an ego maniac with a constant fucking hard on anymore.

The office is a welcome sight, my assistant, Rosalie, greets me warmly and compliments my hair, tan, and natural highlights. She gushes a little too much at how I look, and I’m forced to coolly look her down, to get her to return to a professional manner.

The issues with the merger are nothing and could have been handled by anyone involved, there is no need for me to be here at all. The lawyers have handled mostly everything, and the minor details are rectified in half a morning. I walk through to Jake’s office and dump the files on his desk, I like that they scatter messily, and I don’t bother straightening them. I quell the urge to push over his desk tidy beside them.

“Fix them yourself,” I mutter and toss his pen on top. It’s fair to say I’m still as pissed as ever and right now; the thought of resignation is swirling in my mind rather childishly.

No, if I’m going to do that, I’d rather say it to his face. I wouldn’t want to miss THAT reaction.

I have a business lunch with a client that’s been waiting to discuss some points with Jake and assure them that at Mr. Carrero’s earliest convenience, he will arrange another meeting. I smooth over the fine particulars and swell with satisfaction that I’m more than capable of doing his job for him when he’s not around.

What do I need him for anyway? To pander to his ego and swat away sexual innuendos all day. Pffft!

“Where is my son?” the booming voice rips me from my reverie at my desk, as I snap up to see the force that is Carrero senior, stalking in. I stand quickly and gulp quietly.

Hell.

This guy is like all of Jake’s worst traits, amplified tenfold, and stuck in a far moodier exterior. Less attractive exterior.

“He’s away for a few days, Mr. Carrero, sir, he returns on Friday.” I smile brightly and smooth down my skirt impulsively as he always makes me feel so nervous. He’s very commandeering in a superior way.

“I’m guessing if you’re here, then it’s not on business.” He balks at me, and I grimace tightly. The urge to stick my fingers up almost choking me.

“I presume it’s a personal trip, yes, sir.” I fold my hands gently across my waist and smile brightly, the urge to fidget is strong in his presence, must be a family trait, having that sort of intimidation over me but I hold steady.

“He’s ignoring my calls.” He rages at me.

Well, at least I’m not the only one. He was ignoring Leila too apparently, and now Senior.

“You tell him I want to hear from him today,” he snaps.

Well, that might be hard considering he’s also ignoring me.

I sulk inwardly.

“Yes, sir.” I answer, fake brightly. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m sick of this goddamn sulking fucking distance he’s put between us these past few weeks. He got his fucking merger, so he can fucking talk to me.” He erupts at me. Slamming a hand on my desk and makes me jump in fright.

Wow, Carrero is a swearer!

I remain impassive, my insides liquifying to melted Jell-O at his booming voice and aggressive manner.

“Very good, sir.” I smile sweetly and try not to crumble when he throws me that intense glare. I catch the family resemblance. That scary, intimidating expression and furrowed brows as he storms back out and I realize my hands are shaking. He’s not a Carrero you want to piss off at all; Jake but with a much worse temper and I am aware that my blood has run icy cold as my legs almost give out from under me.

I reach for the office cell and dial in Jake’s number, hand still trembling … talking to me or not, he has to call his father. I would rather not have a repeat of that little meeting. My nerves would rather not have a repeat.

“Jake Carrero,” he answers smoothly, and I know he’s aware it’s his own office calling him … he has caller ID, yet he’s in Mr. Business mode. Maybe that’s why.

“Jake. Your father requests a call from you before the close of business today,” I sound out smoothly, that inner dance in my chest bounding out to remind me that I miss him. Achingly so.

“Does he now?” flat toned and disinterested. He doesn’t even question why I used the office cell to call him and not my cell.

Hmmmm.

I hate that the tension between us is still as thick. I’m shaking, and I have to sit down, his voice, even like this, is pushing me to break inside. I just want it back to how it was.

“He was rather verbal about it, so I suggest you call him sooner rather than later,” I add quietly, praying he just calls him, my nerves can’t deal with anymore visits.

He scares me so much.

“He yelled at you?” there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice this time, a slight hope lifting in me that maybe he still cares.

“Not directly,” I reply softly. “He yelled … about you … in my general direction.” There’s a tense drawn out silence.

“I’ll call him.” His tone is even softer, a hint of Jake in there somewhere. Emotion rises in my throat at the slight show of someone I love … I can’t bear this.

“Thank you.” My voice is softer too, I push down the urge to exhale heavily and try to think of something else to say, to change how this is between us. I open my mouth to say something, but I’m cut off by him.

“Well if that’s all.” With that he hangs up. No goodbye, no thank you. Nothing. Just click and the line is dead. I stare at it blankly, silent with shock and completely miffed all at once.

Fuck you very much, Carrero. Asshole.