Ciara's POV
The meeting eventually ended, although I barely heard the last half of it. I was physically in the meeting, but my mind was running through a lot; how on earth have I been working for my ex all along? Would I get fired instantly? How long would it take to get another job?
Numbers were discussed. Strategies were debated. Marcus spoke passionately about brand positioning like a man defending national security. As though he had ever been involved in the company's matters for real. He was obviously bluffing to curry favor.
Meanwhile, my brain was still stuck on one disturbing fact.
Jason Hart.
My ex-boyfriend.
My boss.
Fantastic!
Chairs scraped against the floor as the executives began leaving the conference room. I gathered my laptop and presentation file slowly, hoping to escape unnoticed.
Unfortunately, life rarely cooperates with my plans. And I know this for a fact!
"Ciara."
Marcus's voice stopped me halfway to the door.
I turned.
"Yes, sir?"
He adjusted his glasses and looked at me in a way that was almost… impressed.
"That was a solid presentation."
Coming from Marcus, that was practically a standing ovation.
"Thank you," I said.
Becky walked past us just then, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
"Well done," she said sweetly.
Too sweetly, like she was faking a cheeky sweet voice.
Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Thanks," I replied, already suspicious.
Becky wasn't the type to compliment competition.
She glanced briefly toward the head of the table where Jason was still seated, speaking quietly with two executives.
Then she leaned closer to me.
"You certainly caught the CEO's attention." her cleavage was more revealed as she leaned.
Ah.
There it was.
"I was presenting a proposal," I said calmly.
"Of course you were," she replied with a small laugh before walking away.
Cryptic woman.
Exhausting! I shook my head, as if shaking of fur.
I stepped out of the conference room and finally allowed myself to breathe properly.
The marketing department was buzzing the moment we returned.
Tiffany rolled her chair closer to my desk the second I sat down.
"Girl," she whispered dramatically, "tell me you knew the CEO was coming."
"I didn't," I replied.
"And tell me that man is not your...."
I froze.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
I turned peach....maybe actually red.
"My what?"
Tiffany raised both hands immediately.
"Chill," she said quickly. " the way you two were countering each other uh..." She rolled her tongue and grinned.
Great.
Apparently my emotional breakdown had been public entertainment.
"We don't....know each other!" I nearly shouted.
Tiffany squinted at me.
"Know each other how?" She burst into a laugh that made my stomach hurt. "Take a chill pill, girl. CEO has been at Italy growing a branch there. I doubt you've ever been on a plane." She scoffed, leaning back in her chair, clearly unconvinced.
Very helpful observation, Tiffany.
Across the office, Marcus suddenly called my name.
"Ciara."
I stood up instantly, as if electrified and walked to his desk.
"Yes, sir?"
He tapped a few papers together before looking up.
"The board liked your proposal," he said.
My eyebrows lifted slightly.
"That's news."
"Good news" he corrected.
"Uh...I can't say less." I stuttered, wide eyed.
Then he added casually, "The CEO requested the full report."
That made my stomach tighten.
"Oh." That was my reply.
Marcus didn't seem to notice my internal panic.
"Send it to his office before the end of the day."
"Yes, sir." I nodded turning to leave.
"Personally." He added.
"Uh...Sir?" I squinted.
"We need them to see the importance of the marketing department. This could be a revolution, you know?" He looked at me over his glasses while scratching his full beards.
I nodded continously. "Yes sir."
I returned to my desk feeling oddly tense.
Jason requesting my report could mean two things.
He was interested in the project.
Or he was interested in me.
Neither option felt safe.
An hour later, I stood outside the CEO's office with the report folder in my hand.
The door was slightly open.
I knocked.
"Come in."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Jason sat behind the large oak desk, reviewing something on his laptop. The office looked exactly like you'd expect a CEO's office to look: expensive, organized, and intimidating.
I stepped inside.
"You requested the silk campaign report," I said, placing the folder on his desk.
He closed the laptop slowly and looked up.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Five years of history sat quietly between us.
"You handled the presentation well," he said finally.
"Thank you."
"You've improved. You were always reckless, yeah? Jumping around as one one your dad's dogs, huh?"
That comment made me raise an eyebrow, squeeze my fist and grit my teeth fiercely.
"I wasn't aware you were tracking my professional development." I counterattack. "You don't look bad either. I doubt you've stopped screwing every living hole you come across." I stormed towards him, stamping the file harshly to the table.
The corner of his mouth moved slightly. A wry smile crept.
"I observe competence."
Of course he did.
Jason always enjoyed pretending emotions didn't exist.
"Well," I said lightly, "I'm glad my competence passed inspection."
He leaned back in his chair, studying me again.
That look was familiar.
It used to mean he was analyzing something.
Or someone.
"You seem surprised to see me," he said.
"Should I not be?"
"I assumed you knew I owned this company."
I let out a short laugh.
"Jason, if I had known you were the CEO of this place, I would have applied to literally any other company in the city."
That earned a real reaction.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Yeah... A brothel inclusive ," he said. "If not the first option." His words were clear and calm, yet hot and deadly.
"Jason!" I banged both hands on his table, looking down at the composed man who had stirred me.
That moment was a whole lot of emotions.
Anger, hatred, embarrassment. Just name any negative emotion.
Silence settled between us.
Not comfortable, but hostile.
Then Jason picked up the report folder.
"I'll review this," he said. "While you review your decision about working as my dog, or his."
I know what he was saying.
We were called 'The Dogs' all through college. I mean my sister and I. We had both done as instructed. It was my father's orders all along, and I never did anything morally wrong.
"Of course." I finally replied.
I walked out of the office and closed the door behind me.
Only then did I release the breath I had been holding.
Because working here had just become far more complicated than I originally thought.
And something told me this was only the beginning.