The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 264

Gazing up at the crappy brown building that houses “The Haven” homeless shelter, an internal wave of anxiety builds up inside of me, like an all-consuming black hole, now that I’m faced with old memories. Jake is standing behind me with hands on my shoulders, a kiss on my neck brings me back to the present.

“Call me and I’ll come, okay?” His voice is a reminder that I can do this, I can be strong enough because of him.

“I know. Now leave, before I change my mind about going to the hotel first.” I giggle as his hand skims my ass; he’s a tempting distraction to what I know I need to do.

“If I’d known you were this torn about it, I would’ve applied a little more pressure.” He smirks wickedly, letting his hand trail lower under my dress. I laugh and shove him off playfully with my butt, which only serves to cheer him on because he pushes his hand further between my legs and I fight the scalding surge of heat it causes.

For the love of God. Stay focused.

“Go! There’s plenty of time for that later, a lot of that.” I smile as he holds up hands in defeat.

“I’m holding you to that, baby.” He smacks my ass and turns back to the car, winking and waving as he slides in effortlessly. I stand watching him and sigh, a chaos of emotions churning up at the loss of his touch. He waits by the sidewalk until I swallow down the inner dread; when it passes, I turn with a wave and head inside.

Jake won’t wander far, probably a nearby café or something within walking distance so he can get back to

me in a hurry. Knowing he’s close helps, knowing I can call him, and he’ll be right here gives me strength. It gives me the peace that I desperately need. The man is too much for my heart to handle sometimes but I wouldn’t have him any other way.

I swallow down everything building up inside of me and push through the doors into the main foyer of the building; it’s a lot nicer than the last time I stepped in here, and I remember my mother talking about refurbishments to this place the last time I saw her. It’s airy and light but cozy and welcoming. I spot the familiar receptionist, Claire, even after all these years she looks the same, but surprised to see me and beams at my entrance.

“Hello, Emma! Well look at you! God, you look really great. The vision of happiness with that glowing face of yours, and your hair is adorable.” I smile warmly, my composure slipping when faced with people from my past. The urge to lift my chin and force out those cold mannerisms and icy tone is almost overwhelming me, but I don’t. That instant compulsion died a while back, in the glory of Jake’s presence and I won’t slide into an old habit just to deal with my discomfort around this poor woman.

“Hey. Thank you. I was wondering if my mother was here, if I could maybe go surprise her?” I take her in with a genuine smile hiding my inner waves of fear. My palms are already clamming up and I can’t ignore the faster thumping of my heart now I’m in here.

“You’re in luck. She’s in her office today doing the accounts, she’ll be alone too I imagine; holed up with her head in the books.” She pats my shoulder gently and smiles “Just go on up. She’ll be so happy to see you.”

Doubtful.

I smile gratefully at her before I head toward the staircase at the far-right corner, thanking Claire as I go, by-passing a couple of undesirable looking teens loitering nearby, eyeing me up.

Wonderful.

I swerve around a little elderly woman, with a huge sense of sadness for her as she drags carrier bags behind her, containing all her worldly possessions.

I skip up the steps, two at a time in a bid to get this over and done with before I lose my courage, then turn a corner to come face-to-face with the old familiar corridor leading to her office. The same pale cream walls and red carpet, no refurbishments up here to keep my memories at bay. Her pine office door is chipped and scraped, but her name is executively etched onto a brass sign screwed to the outside, looking so out of place against the old entrance.

I stand outside, fixing my hair, smoothing down my pink sundress and take a deep calming breath before I steady myself to bring a sense of calm to my demeanor. I picture Jake’s soft caring face and breathe deeply, seeing him clearly, imagining him here beside me with an encouraging hand in mine, a genuine smile lifts at the corners of my mouth.

I can do this.

“Jake asked me to marry him.” I smile up at her, shining with inner joy at his face in my mind, thinking back to the night when he asked me to be his forever.

God, I love him so much.

She sits for a moment and I scrutinize her every expression, a hint of surprise followed by a look of disappointment and then a fake smile is plastered on to hide it all. Her façade disrupted, only momentarily, and then she’s back in full control.

Why am I not surprised that she doesn’t want me to be happy? She never has. She doesn’t care if it’s not something for her benefit.

“Congratulations. I’m assuming the wedding will be in New York?” She can’t look me in the eye but there’s a new tone to her voice, a slight edge and for the first time I click to what it is. I’ve been completely oblivious before today, but now there’s a bright shining magnifying light forced over the top of her for me to peer through.

She’s jealous!! She is jealous of her own freaking child finding happiness. Her own child finding love. What kind of mother is that?!

“There’s more.” I sit up straighter, old anger inside me rising at her response to her only child getting married; Inner-Teen-Emma making a grand appearance; the girl pushed down repeatedly by the woman before her.

She hasn’t even asked me if he makes me happy, or how much I love him. She has never acknowledged my relationship with him before, so it’s no surprise that she wouldn’t now.

“Let me guess … You’ve quit work to live the life of a billionaire’s trophy wife? I’m so proud.” She stares at me blankly and I start stiffening. She isn’t good at hiding her envy now since we’re really getting into it, forgetting herself and her outward demeanor because we have no audience. Hence needing to do this alone, for this persona right here. The woman who used to tower over me in passive emptiness when her boyfriend was upset or when one left because of me.

Breathe, don’t let her get to you.