The CEO (16 page)

The club was so live. I danced until I felt every single curl leave my head. John kept pumping me with drinks until I finally stopped him and asked to get some food before the kitchen closed in an hour.

We split a half-pound turkey burger and fry basket before we left.

I had pre-booked a hotel nearby to crash at for the night. I knew I was going to get drunk and didn’t want to risk driving home intoxicated. John followed me to the door of my room and kissed me good night.

I went into the bathroom and cleaned the makeup off my face with the makeup removing scrubbing wipes I had in my purse.

I walked back into the room and kicked my heels off before sitting down on the edge of the queen sized bed. Looking at my reflection in the mirror on the dresser, I pulled the zipper down the side of my dress.

A knock at the door interrupted me before I could pull the dress off. “Hello?” I said, walking toward the door and clutching the side of my dress so it wouldn’t fall. I looked through the peep hole and John was standing in front of my door. As I opened it, he pushed his way in, squeezing me tightly in his arms.

With a deep intensity in his eyes, I could tell he wanted to devour me. The door shut behind him, startling me as he walked me over to the bed. I was ready to give him anything he wanted.

“Sheila—” I forcefully pressed my lips against his, silencing any doubt he had in his mind.

He unzipped the last part of my dress and it fell to the floor, revealing my red lingerie set. Placing his hand in the arch of my back, he traced his tongue on the side of my neck. His hand slid up my back, unsnapping my bra clasps and letting my breasts fall free.

He spun me around so I could see myself in the mirror as he gently slid one finger underneath the seam of my panties. He rubbed my clit and cupped my breast with his free hand. “I want you to come on my fingers, Sheila. I want you to keep your eyes open while you do, so you can see how beautiful you look as you succumb to me.”

Heat rose from deep down inside of me as John’s fingers picked up the pace. My nipples hardened and my head flew back on his shoulders as he dipped his fingers into my core. “Look into the mirror, Sheila. Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered into my ear as I felt myself letting go.

His cock pressed up against me and it was my turn to return the favor.

Monday—
sweet, sweet, Monday.
It was the shittiest day of the week for most, but I always looked forward to it.

Today was John and Frank’s first day as Vice President of Marketing and Vice President of Telecommunications, two jobs that I knew would suit them both well.

They both had to deal with Roger while I tackled the new permits for a secondary building for Nat-Co.

I walked into the parking garage elevator and went up to my suite. As the doors opened I smiled at Rose. “Morning.”

“Morning Ms. Quinn, you look well rested and refreshed. “

I spent the weekend in a hotel fucking one of the new VPs, of course I looked refreshed.

I walked into my office and hung my trench coat on the rack, then placed my briefcase on top of my desk.

“Morning Ms. Quinn, here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you, Ryan.” He stood in front of my desk smiling at me.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look—happy.”

“I am Ryan. I got rid of the old pathetic Sheila and brought back stone cold Sheila.”

“Good for you. Oh and ‘Stone Cold’, you might want to check your email. If you need anything stronger than that coffee after you read it, like vodka, let me know.”

What the hell does that mean? Why would I need vodka at eight thirty in the morning?

“That son of a bitch!” I yelled at my screen. “He has no idea who he is fucking with. He wants to play hard ball? Then we’ll play hard ball.”

Keith Lee was kind enough to get a lien put on the building I wanted across the street. The email wasn’t actually from him, but from the bank. I knew he was behind it though; it was too damn coincidental.

I spent most of the morning searching online for dirt on Keith. There had to be something. Marital issues, a teen pregnancy, something, anything I could use to blackmail him into leaving me the hell alone.

Search after search, and nothing came up. This man was good at covering his tracks, but I had a secret weapon for situations like this. There was one man I could call to take care of this, and his name was Lucky.

“Hey Lucky, it’s Sheila. I need a favor; can you meet up for lunch today?”

“Anything for you Ms. Quinn,” he responded.

“Hey Ryan, I’m gonna step out for lunch. I’ll be back in about an hour.” I locked up my office and headed to the diner on Oak Street.

Lucky was standing in front of the diner with his infamous black hooded sweat shirt with a white skull on the front. His black backpack was slung over his shoulder and a metal chain hung from his denim jeans.

“Hey Lucky,” I said stepping out of my car.

“Oh my god, Sheila, you look amazing,” he said giving me a hug.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. You filled in a lot.”

“Two years clean. I hit the gym now for my fix instead of drugs; I had to leave those alone.”

“God, if only Kieran was as smart as you.”

“How is he by the way?”

“Not good, but we’ll talk about him later.”

Lucky was an old friend of my brother’s. We’d hooked up once years ago after I saved his mom’s home from foreclosure. He couldn’t afford to pay me back so he promised to be my clean up man. He could get dirt on anyone or make them disappear if needed.

“Let me grab a gyro and we can get to work. Would you like one, Sheila?”

“Of course.”

We found a quiet spot at the dog park around the corner from the diner to talk. No one would bother us there.

Lucky had gotten pretty attractive over the years, but he had one
flaw
that he always pointed out: a scar across his eye, which I honestly thought made him look badass. It stretched from his forehead to the top of his cheek, the result of a freak incident during one of his drug binges.

His chocolate brown eyes cut over at me as he took a bite of his wrap. His face was clean-shaven and I could see the dark brown hair creeping from underneath his hood. “So what do you need to know, Lucky?”

“His name and where he works should be all the info I need,” he responded, placing his sandwich back down on the foil it had come in and pulling his laptop out of his bag.

I pulled out the copy of Keith’s license I’d taken from him the night in the hotel. “Is this good enough?”

“It’s perfect. Give me a few minutes and I can hack into any electronic thing that he owns. His phone, computer, GPS, anything!”

“Dig for anything and everything you can see,” I said, taking a bite out of my wrap.

After ferociously typing away at his laptop for what seemed like forever, he turned his laptop around to show me what he’d found. A bunch of coded nonsense that I couldn’t understand was on his screen. It literally looked like something straight out of the movie “The Matrix”.

“What does all of that mean?”

“It means I have enough dirt on this asshole to send him packing.”

“Excellent.”

Now that that was done, then came the hard part. How the hell was I going to get close enough to Keith to nail his ass to the coffin?

Keith was actually pretty eager to see me again, so eager it was almost fucking sickening. It almost seemed as if he had forgotten about the whole me abandoning him in the hotel incident.

I met up with him at another seafood restaurant named The Shack.

“Sheila, I accept your apology. I know that was just an honest mistake that you are willing to make up to me, right?” he said, touching the top of my hand.

We were seated fairly quickly and placed our orders with the waitress. “So Keith, why is there a lien on the property you gave me the permit for?”

“Well
technically
Sheila, you stole the permit information from me.”

“Well
technically
Keith, you’re an asshole.”

He smiled at me as he took a sip of his water. “You’re correct.”

I tried my best to ease into things as gradually as I possibly could, but he was making it very difficult.

After our meal Keith suggested going to another hotel nearby.
I swear this dude is a complete idiot.

“Keith, wait. I have an even better idea.”

“And what is that?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“One sec.” I pulled a manila folder out of my briefcase and slid it across the table to him.

“What’s this?”

“Take a look inside.”

It took less than a minute for his entire facial expression to change. “Where the fuck did you get these? I thought I had this taken care of.”

“Well I guess your clean up person didn’t do a very good job, now did they?”

Inside the folder were photos of Keith snorting drugs off a male hooker’s ass cheek in the back of a limo. Also inside were photos of his wife June, and his three kids, Zach, Amy, and Preston.

“Now, I could leak the first photo to the press and your precious high class family would be ruined.”

“No, please. I’ll do anything you want.”

“Good, take that fucking lien off of my property and leave me and everyone else at Quinn National the fuck alone.”