The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Violet

I don’t sleep much.

That isn’t new. What is new is the reason.

By the time my alarm goes off, my phone already has twelve missed calls and four voicemails. All from the same number.

Avery.

I don’t listen to the voicemails. I don’t need to. I already know what they say because she said it all last night in frantic, breathless texts.

The printer isn’t working.

The coffee machine broke.

I tried to fix it but now there’s water everywhere.

What do I do???

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I groan quietly and swing my legs out of bed.

That’s why I’m at Ashcroft Industries forty-five minutes early.

The building is quieter than usual when I arrive. The security guard nods at me like he always does. I nod back. No small talk. No commentary. Just routine.

The moment I push through the employee door, I smell it.

Burnt coffee.

I close my eyes for half a second and brace myself.

Avery is nowhere in sight.

The employee kitchen looks like a crime scene. Water pooled across the counter and floor. Coffee grounds everywhere-on the counter, in the sink, scattered like she tried to fight the machine and lost. The pot itself sits crooked, lid off, steam long gone.

I press my fingers into my forehead.

“Of course,” I mutter.

I don’t call her. I don’t text her. I just roll up my sleeves and get to work.

Paper towels first. Mop next. I unplug the coffee machine and dry the counter, the floor, the outlet-because the last thing we need is a blown circuit on top of everything else. I wipe the grounds into the trash, rinse the sink, reset the pot.

It takes me exactly twelve minutes.

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I start a fresh pot of coffee immediately after. The good beans. The ones Rowan prefers. Two ice cubes later. Same as always.

Only then do I head toward the printer room.

I already know what I’ll find.

The printer is blinking angrily, tray empty, the screen flashing OUT OF PAPER like it’s mocking me.

I raise an eyebrow.

I open the tray.

Empty.

I slide in three fresh stacks of paper and press print.

The machine whirs to life.

And doesn’t stop.

Sheets start flying out. One. Five. Ten. Twenty.

I grab the stack, staring at the header.

ROWAN ASHCROFT DAILY SCHEDULE

I blink.

Then another stack comes out.

Then another.

I exhale slowly through my nose.

“She spammed print,” I mutter to no one.

By the time it stops, there are nearly fifty copies scattered across the tray and floor. I scoop them up, recycle everything except one, and take it with me to

the desk.

I scan it automatically.

My brow furrows.

One meeting is missing.

Not moved. Not rescheduled.

Removed.

That doesn’t happen by accident.

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09:49 Tue, May 5

Chapter 8

I pull it up on my computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. Two clicks later, the reason is clear.

Rowan removed it himself.

No note. No explanation.

Just… gone.

I don’t question it. I just update the schedule, reprint it once, clean and correct, and slide it neatly into the folder.

Then I grab the coffee. The muffin. Blueberry. Warmed just enough.

I don’t bother hiding this time.

I set everything on the counter behind the desk, place the folder beside it, and sit down. Headset on. Phone already ringing.

“Ashcroft Industries,” I say calmly.

I’m still on the call when the elevator dings.

I don’t stand.

I don’t look up.

I hear his footsteps anyway. Measured. Certain.

“Let me guess,” he says. “Avery?”

I don’t answer.

He chuckles under his breath. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He straightens, adjusting his tie. “You know, my entire department would collapse in under an hour without Camille. Rowan’s would collapse in under five minutes without you.”

“That’s not accurate,” I say flatly.

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Chapter 8

He tilts his head. “You’re right. Five minutes is generous.”

I glance up at him then, just briefly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why?” he asks. “Because they’re true?”

“Because people overhear.”

Theo follows my gaze to the lobby, then back to me, his expression softening-not pitying, just aware. “Noted.”

He shifts his weight, voice dropping slightly. “You okay?”

I meet his eyes this time. He’s observant in a way Rowan isn’t-or maybe just observant differently. Less predatory. More… human.

“Yes,” I say.

Theo studies me for a second longer, like he knows that answer isn’t the whole truth but respects it anyway. Then he grins. “Well. If the world ends before

noon, I assume you’ll tell me.”

“Of course.”

“Perfect.” He taps the desk lightly. “Try not to save the company without me today, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Theo Ashcroft is warmth and charm and noise.

Rowan is silence and pressure and weight.

Both powerful.

Both would toss me to the side given a chance.

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The CEO Above My Desk