Entangled To The CEO

My sister put both hands on my cheeks and raised my face up to her smile. “You’re in love.”

The gorgeous redhead looped her arm through mine, and I felt a rush of excitement as I escorted her down the front steps. We stood in my brick-paved driveway and looked up at the house.

“It wouldn’t have been so cold and echoing if you’d actually furnished it,” she said.

“You thought it was cold too? When I first saw it, I figured all the sunshine would warm it up,” I said.

She shook her shiny hair. “No, warming it up is your job.”

I chuckled at her purring voice and extricated myself from her grasp. “Now, don’t start with that again. I know you’re a married woman.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” she asked.

I sighed. “So, you need anything else from me?”

The redhead patted my arm and smiled. “No, dear. Just teasing you a little. I’m glad you decided to sell. This place just isn’t the right fit for you.”

“Yeah,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets, “but it sure did look good for a while.”

“Well, if you’d stop beating around the bush about what you really want, I could find you a place that would fit you to a T,” she said.

I kissed her cheek. “You’re a great realtor, but I’m just not ready to buy again.”

She sighed. “Another bachelor resigned to hotel living. The bane of my profession.”

My real estate agent cruised down the driveway and honked once before disappearing into the splendid curves of my soon-to-be old neighborhood. It felt good to be getting rid of something that had fit my image and not me.

My smile was short-lived as my brother drove in at break-neck speed. I refused to move, and he squealed to a stop just inches from my shins. “Good to see you, Evan,” I called.

“So, it was just too respectable for you, huh?” Evan asked.

I gritted my teeth against his appraising look. “Yup. Too rich for my blood. Oh wait, that statement doesn’t really fit, but you know what I mean,” I said.

Evan sniffed. The only point of contention he had anymore was my choice of living space. Now that my charity work was starting to garner notice, he couldn’t even mock me for my lack of a job.

“You know, Father doesn’t it think hotel living really fits the Maxwell family standards,” Evan said.

I sighed. “It makes sense seeing as I’m on the ground in the communities where I work.”

“Speaking of that.” Evan sniffed again. “Why did you pick that little town on the other side of the bay? No one knows it’s there. Couldn’t you have gone for a higher profile city in need?”

I glanced over the Bay Bridge to Tasha’s little sliver of a neighborhood. “I didn’t base it off ratings. The main street is seeing a revival, young families are moving into the area, and they had the perfect building just waiting to be converted.”

Evan gave me a pinched look. “It’s just an odd choice. There’s nothing there.”

“That’s the point, Evan. It’s charity. They need a community center, and I am donating one,” I said.

“It’d make more sense if you lived there.” Evan pulled a sour face. “You’re not moving to the East Bay, are you? Maxwells have always lived in San Francisco.”

I headed up my front steps, hoping Evan would have to jet off somewhere else. Anywhere else. “I like the little town. I’m not saying I’m moving there or anything, it’s just a nice place to start.”

I held my breath. Every time I talked about the community center construction project, I waited for someone to call me out on it. There was a definite need for a gathering place in Tasha’s town, but soon someone would wonder why I chose to build my first major project in her backyard.

“Well, at least you’re starting to get press for this so-called new ‘work’ of yours,” Evan said. He jangled the keys to his new sports car. “I mean, it’s one step above charity luncheons and craft bazaars, but at least it’s something.”

I stopped at my front door. “Would you rather I was jet-setting around the world, partying, and having the time of my life?”

“Frankly, that would feel more normal than this,” Evan said. “Anyway, Father told me to check in on you, and now you can tell him I stopped by. I have to get going if I want to make my tee time.”

I didn’t bother to wave as Evan sped off in his sports car, revving the engine so the whole neighborhood would notice. My thoughts were across the bay.

For the first few months after Hyperion was sold, I spent my time making the charity rounds, but my brother was right. There were only so many luncheons and silent auctions that I could stand. So, I started working on my own charitable outlets and finally settled on community renovations. It had started off quietly at first, but now my approach was gaining interest.

It would only be a matter of time before Tasha noticed my efforts were sprouting in her own backyard. If she even still lived there. I had heard a few weeks back that she had moved, but no one seemed to know any other details than that. I hated Tasha’s low profile even as I emulated it myself.

She was still on my mind as I traversed my empty mansion. Upstairs there was nothing but a tailored suit hanging on the back of the master suite door. My small suitcase lay open on the long marble counter in the bathroom, and all my other measly possessions were safe in storage.

I lifted the suit off the hook and held it up. It was the same one I wore to the yacht party. The same one that Tasha had peeled off me in her attempt to get me out of her system. I wondered for the thousandth time if it had worked for her.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

It had made things worse for me. I rehung the suit and turned on a cold shower. Just the memory of Tasha still made me sweat.

I jumped out the shower fifteen minutes later to the incessant ringing of my phone. I grabbed the one white towel left in the house and wrapped it around my waist. “Berger, where are you?” I asked, answering the call.

“Downstairs. What are you doing in that empty house? Get down here so we can go out and party,” Berger said.

“I’m just getting dressed. Front door’s open,” I said. I hung up the phone and finished drying off.

By the time I made it downstairs, my former colleagues were playing an impromptu game of hockey with a can of caviar from my realtor’s thank-you basket. I stopped the improvised puck with my foot and shot it back towards Berger.

“There you are. We couldn’t find you in this mausoleum,” Berger said.

“It’s not that bad,” I said.

Berger glanced around the white marble mansion. “Not bad if you’re eighty,” he declared.

The others agreed and made a string of jokes about the echoing home.

“Are you done yet? Can we get out of here?” I grabbed my suitcase and carried it to the door. “I’m going to throw this in the trunk. I’m heading to a hotel tonight.”

“I don’t blame you,” Berger said. “I feel like I’m about to get interred.”

“Then let’s go,” I said.

I herded the guys towards the big arched front doors, but Berger slipped around me. “Looks like you started to get a little work done on the place. Smart idea, taking down this wall.”

“Not my idea,” I said.

Berger nodded. “Seems like an Ellison touch to me. She has a great eye for sight lines and how a room should flow.”

“Yeah, Ellison’s good like that. Wait, how do you know?” I asked. Our colleagues answered with a trio of juvenile cooing.

“Stop.” Berger’s light smile was gone. “She’s always admiring and comparing the interiors when I, ah, run into her at cocktail parties.”

It was my turn to pester my friend. “So, you ‘run into’ Ellison a lot, do you?” I asked.

Before our friends could answer for him, Berger held up his hand. “We run in the same circles. It’s only natural.”

“If you like charity luncheons and art openings,” I said. The guys laughed.

This time it was Berger that herded us towards the front doors. “I thought you didn’t like to talk about Ellison anymore.”

“But I would like to talk about your sudden interest in my ex-girlfriend,” I said.

Berger scowled. “You’re over her. You made that abundantly clear.”

I sighed. “Not to everyone.”

Rumors still circulated that Ellison and I would get married. People delighted in thinking that our distance was due to the fact we were trying to keep our exclusive wedding a secret. It was ridiculous, but I was glad to see that it bothered someone else besides me. Berger looked miserable when the guys still joked with me about it.

“Besides,” Berger said, perking up, “tonight is not about me and the only charitable giving that’s going to happen tonight is tips. Let’s go out and turn San Francisco upside down.”

I tried to stop in the door, but Berger and the guys shoved me through. Before I could protest, remind them that I didn’t party for a living anymore, my suitcase was thrown into the limousine trunk and I was pushed into the plush interior. A small disco ball was already spinning inside the party vehicle and the mini-bar was wide open.

Berger instructed the driver to take us past all the hottest clubs in town so we could scope out the scene. I sat back and tried not to see the Bay Bridge at every turn as we wound down from my neighborhood to the lower districts. Every time I saw the bridge, I had the urge to drive straight to Tasha’s little town.

“So, I’ve sold my house,” I said. “Have we heard of any other Hyperion employees moving?”

“Nah, but look at that,” Berger said.

I glanced out the limousine window just in time to see Stan walking in the front doors of a five-star restaurant. “The big shot himself,” I said.

Berger snorted. “Yeah, who knew that our cutthroat leader would give it all up and become the patron saint of the city?”

It seemed to me that Stan had been influenced by Tasha as much as she had been mentored by him. I had kept tabs on my old boss in hopes of seeing mention of her, but so far she was off the radar. Stan, on the other hand, had founded one of the largest charity institutions created in recent history. He broke tradition, and it had galvanized the upper echelons of San Francisco society – where he gave, they followed.

Tasha had to be behind it all, I knew it, but no one could tell me any details. Berger delighted in dangling rumors in front of me, only to admit that he hadn’t heard anything about Tasha either.

“Forget about our disappearing colleague,” Berger said. “Tonight you promised you’d have fun.”

He hauled me out of the limousine and into the club. I kept it up for all of fifteen minutes before I slipped away and headed up to the rooftop lounge. There I had two stiff drinks before I was able to turn around and face the view.

The Bay Bridge was glowing in a light fog. The dark waters of the bay only accentuated the bright bridge’s iconic silhouette, but it didn’t catch my eye. Instead, I found myself gazing off across the water to the opposite shore. The last I heard Tasha was still there, and I wished more than anything that I could see her again.