CEO AU (Part 7), personal assistant wants to get a little more personal. An opportunity arises when a deal starts to go south.
Cardan Greenbriar, CEO of Greenbriar industries, my boss, my sorta real fake fiancé, finds me in the bathroom. The tenth floor bathroom, to be exact and I know he’s actually been looking for me and has not accidentally stumbled into the tenth floor’s women’s restroom, because my boss is so fucking anal, I would bet my brother’s left lung that he has my business phone chipped. The asshole doesn’t even knock on the door. He swings it open like he owns the place – and granted, he does, but still.
I’m leaned against a sink, hunched over with both hands to my chest, totally panicking, and freaking out further at the thunderous beating of my heart.
“Shit,” he says once he sees me and I hear the lock turn before I see the tips of his shoes coming into my line of sight. His Oxfords touching toes with my Converse nearly shocks me out of my anxiety only because of how bizarre it looks. Warm hands find my shoulders and when he gradually tugs me to face him, I can’t tell if the black spots in my vision are because of the lack of oxygen getting to my brain or because of the flickering light in the corner. He guides me until my back touches the basin of the sink and his palms cup my face.
I tug at the neckline of my dress, hands still above my heart and I try to meet his eyes. “H-Hey, big fella,” I manage, voice shaky. “How’d you find me?”
He pries my fingers from my dress, twisting my palms until they face him before gently placing them above his own chest, his heart beat enviously more paced than mine. “I checked your phone.” I narrow my eyes at him. He ignores this. “Who did this to you?”
“Did what,” I shoulder my cheeks, “Why – do I look ugly?”
“No, but you’re crying, Jude.”
“Am not.” Cardan lets go of my hands but I still keep them firmly placed on his chest. His fingers are under my eyes, getting the wetness that I had obviously missed, while simultaneously also proving me a liar.
He glances behind me for a moment, checking the mirror when the light above the middle stall flashes on then off. “What happened?”
“I told you,” I grit out, “the tenth-floor bathroom has a flickering light above the third stall -”
Cardan scowls and a palm over my mouth quiets my slow descent into hysterics. “Yes, and I told you to call someone about that, but that’s not what I’m asking. Why are you crying, Jude Duarte Greenbriar?” his lips tip up at the end and my stomach flutters.
“Whoa,” I murmur when he pulls his palm away. Is that the first time he’s said it?
His eyebrows hike up and he lets out a short laugh, “Yeah, I know.”
I smile, it’s unsteady, but pretty brilliant if it mirrors the goofy tilt to his lips. “How did it taste? My name like that on your tongue?”
He takes a moment, thumb tracing my bottom lip. His heart beats just a little faster under my hands and his smile softens. “Sweet,” he confesses, and I watch the way his mouth forms the word. “Jude?”
“You should kiss me,” I whisper.
I nod my head, “In fact, you should do it more often. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve kissed me. In fact, I can count it on one finger. Maybe two, but I really don’t remember that first time so that doesn’t count.”
He pretends to consider this and I almost knee him in the groin when he says, “I guess also Frenching your pussy doesn’t count here either, does it?”
