The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO) novel Chapter 92

Jake walks in with a man in tow and I take a sharp breath at his mere appearance; he’s in a deep gray shirt, left open at the collar, and dark jacket, matching pants and shades, his face has a little more stubble than normal. He looks flawless in every way, a seductive cool, confident heartthrob and it causes my heart to constrict painfully. His eyes are concealed with Ray Bans as they walk by me in the office.

I long to reach out and touch him as he passes. He keeps his distance, throwing me a tight smile, and says nothing; just heads with his male friend to his own office and shuts the door. I feel sick. I just want to be alone with him to talk, a chance to explain, apologize, win back my Jake in any small way that I can.

I want to know what’s happening with Marissa. How he feels about it, what the future holds for her, and him.

I sit at my desk and fidget with everything within reach, but I just don’t care. I don’t have the strength to be PA Emma anymore. I’m listless, tense, and emotional, and I’ve fallen to pieces so many times in the past two days that I could cry right here, in front of everyone, and it wouldn’t matter. I need him.

My hair falls forward into my face so many times as I shift about, I start regretting this hair cut at all.

Why did I ever change it?

I smile sadly as I ponder it; my hair is just another sign that I had been letting go. Taking away a piece of the armor, oblivious to the fact at the time. Another small change pushed on me by Jake’s looming presence. I tug my fingers from my scalp, I’ve been tangling them absent-mindedly, and straighten my back in a bid to pull myself together. This is sheer agony, my nerves are all over the place, my mind anywhere but work.

Finally, his visitor leaves, and waves me a passing goodbye and friendly smile. I sit with bated breath, wondering if I should just walk in and try to talk to him but my courage fails me. I don’t have to ponder over it for long, as my switchboard lights up and he asks me to come into his office.

I hold my breath, my nerves reeling as I get up, palms sweaty, stomach fluttering and slowly make my way in, pushing the heavy door closed behind me once I’m inside, unable to take my eyes off him. He’s facing down towards his laptop, concentrating, and typing, he’s taken off his shades and his jacket; too good to be real, yet avoiding directly looking at me.

I crave for him to glance at me and smile in his usual way. Hollywood handsome, but he doesn’t. He nods up darkly and indicates I take a seat; all Mr. Business Carrero, devoid of all friendliness, acting ultra-cool toward me.

I can sense the tension already. I do as I’m told, still unable to tear my eyes from him, my body trembling, waiting for some sign of how this will play out. Something doesn’t feel right, and my inner fears start churning low down.

“Emma, this isn’t easy for me to say.” He gazes at me for a long moment, darkness in his eyes, but his face is closed off, giving nothing away. He shifts in his seat so he’s sitting taller and closes his laptop slowly, watching me as intently as I’m watching him. I hold my breath, my nerves piquing. “We can’t work together anymore … Too much has happened for this to work.” He sounds so cold, unaffected by the words he’s just stabbed me with.

I gasp sharply, as though I’ve been struck. Shaking my head impulsively as I take in what he’s just said. I never saw this coming at all, and my insides drop with the gravity of how bad this is.

“What?” I blurt out, dazed, my voice detached from my reeling mind, my body frozen to the spot.

“I’ve made arrangements for you to go to our headquarters across town, Carrero Tower. To work on my father’s floor, Emma … It’s for the best.” He looks away and turns his chair to the windows of the office, gazing over New York as if to dismiss me. His body language completely unreadable, straight, and solid, physically closing me out.

I can’t formulate a response at all, gasping like I’m drowning. I can’t breathe. I try to speak, but only a sob is forced out. Without any warning I crumble, falling forward into my hands and I lose control, crying softly, unable to stop anything anymore, just a shadow of the person I have been playing for so long.

Jake can’t do this to me, to us … He can’t break me this way. Not him! … Not after everything. He’s sending me away, and it’s ripping me apart inside.

“Emma, don’t, please.” His voice cracks and waves over me closely as his arms come around me, pulling me from my chair. I can’t look up at him. I can only let him guide me around and crush me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me so tightly, I can barely breathe. “Not now, Emma … Not like this,” he croaks breathily. I don’t understand what he means by that, all I can do is sag against him and let everything flow out of me, all the anguish and heartache and pain of the last few days while basking in the feel of him.

I try and regain control of myself, my sobs finally turning to soft tears as I calm down. Unable to think of any words to fix this. I take deep breaths and try so hard to be calm again, ashamed of him seeing me this weak.

When will this ever end? It hurts so much.

I’m like a bottomless sea of tears that I can never empty. His shoulders sag and he moves closer to the window, stiffening, his breath forming a small steamed area in front of him.

“Don’t make this harder on both of us … Just go,” he utters it so softly, and so surely, my breath catches in my throat, stilling my tears as that numb barrier sweeps over me.

I really have lost him.

There’s so much I want to say, but I can’t. He’s closed the door on me. Ironically, after months of me refusing to open mine and his always being wide open, it’s now shut in my face and locked tight. I’m too late.

I hold on a moment, in the hope he’ll look at me, but he remains where he is. Pensively staring over New York, refusing to move. He wants me to go, it’s in every tiny tense cell of his body. I can practically taste it and yet I’m frozen to the spot, my head reeling and desperate to say so much, but my mouth stays shut. I’ve lost everything that mattered to me … I lost Jake. He’s all that matters to me.

I stand slowly, limbs shaking, self-preservation kicking in as I forcefully steady myself and turn deliberately. Concentrating so hard on not crumbling. I walk slowly, agonizing each step, praying he stops me; but he doesn’t. When I finally open the door, I pause, inhale heavily and take a final turn to look at him once more; he hasn’t moved. His stiff posture still the same, still emanating hostility.

“Will I see you again?” it’s an impulsive question, my voice filled with fear and longing.

“I don’t think so, Emma … What’s done is done. It’s better this way.” His tone is lifeless, empty. It rips the last shred of my soul out and lets it loose on the wind, leaving a hollow space, full of fire and hurt. I can’t bear to look at his strong tall body, held tautly against the New York skyline anymore; this will be my last memory of him and it’s unbearable. I turn and pull the door closed behind me, walk through my own office, shut the door which always stood open then I sit at my desk, concealed from everyone and break down within the circle of my own arms.