Mr. CEO (17 page)

P
lease give
me the strength to get through this,
I think to myself as I step out of the Parker-Moore building with Eva.

We’re on our way to a press meeting involving the quarterly report of Parker-Moore.

Unfortunately, I’ve been assigned to answer questions about the new direction of Parker-Moore sales department. Despite not wanting to go, I’m required to be there. It’s going to be awful, I just know it. My stomach has been fluttering with butterflies all morning.

Still, not all things have been bad. Yesterday was my first day back at work and no one said anything about the photos, thank God. But people kept coming up and talking to me, making small talk. I knew they were just trying to fish out how I was doing, so it didn’t bother me. It did get old after awhile, however.

I hope they’ll stop it there,
I tell myself as Eva and I climb into the stretch limo that’s waiting for us.
Because the constant hovering makes me feel uncomfortable.

“Are you alright?” Eva asks me as I settle down into the plush leather seats. She’s dressed sharper than usual today in a crisp black suit, her hair done up into a single braid down her back, and her makeup is flawless.

I nod my head and say, “Yes, why?”

“You’re scowling.”

I relax my face muscles. I hadn’t even realized that I was doing it. “I just don’t want to go to this press meeting. And I think you know why.”

Eva gives me a sympathetic look. “I do, but everything will be okay. You have me here. If anyone says
anything
to you about you-know-what, I’ll knock them out.”

I snort a laugh and she grins at the ridiculousness of what she’s said. Eva’s not gonna do shit. “Right.”

It’s silent on the drive over there. Logan’s there already. I pick at the hem of my skirt. I wish he was with me now. It’s different when he’s next to me. It’s when I’m alone that the dread and regret and anxiety start to consume me.

“How’s things with Logan?” she asks a moment later.

My heart does a flip at his name. I’m honestly kind of angry with him for wanting to take over the plot to destroy Patterson’s company. I’d rather confront the bastard myself and take matters into my own hands. But Logan isn’t having it. He wants me to trust him to handle everything. I’ve agreed... as long as I can stay in contact with the lawyer.

“Good,” I answer, letting out an easy breath. “Better than I thought it could be.”

Eva smiles and leans over to take my hand. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

And I know that she means it.

* * *

W
alking into the press room
, I’m a ball of nerves. I know people are watching me, judging me. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. Seriously, I’m about to hurl all over Eva’s high-dollar suit if I don’t get my anxiety under control.

Logan’s already on stage taking questions from reporters. I can’t get over how professional he looks in his business suit, his hair slicked back. For the first time, he actually looks like who he is. The Boss.

The CEO.

Before I can take my assigned seat on the platform behind the podium, a reporter, a man who looks like he’s in his mid-thirties in khaki pants and a plaid shirt, asks, “Mr. Parker, can you tell us how long the affair was with Miss Harrison?”

Anger grips my throat and it’s hard to keep a straight face. I knew questions like this would come up, but it’s still hard not to react. Eva grips my hand tighter and I walk straight ahead, not looking at the audience and slowly falling into my seat.

I watch as Logan clenches his jaw and I can tell he’s trying to keep from blowing a gasket. “I’m not going to answer that question,” he responds, his voice tight. “I keep my personal and business life separate, and this press conference is strictly for business.”

The man doesn’t give up. “But can’t you see that what you engaged in is alarming for your company and the stockholders? As head of your company, you should--”

“I said I’m not here to talk about personal matters,” Logan says and lowers his voice. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He scans his gaze over the reporters in the room and says, “I will only entertain questions that pertains to Parker-Moore’s business dealings.”

“But what happened has hurt your company’s image,” the reporter argues, ignoring Logan’s request. “You need to address this issue unless you want to create further damage to your brand.”

Logan clenches and unclenches his jaw, anger evident as the veins stand out on his neck. I don’t think I ever seen him so angry.

Logan stands there for several moments before saying through gritted teeth, “I’m only going to address this once.” Flashes of photos being taken seem to pick up as Logan responds. My heart beats frantically and I try desperately just to stay in my place, remembering the advice from public relations. “The photos that have been circulated involving myself and Miss Harrison were taken with the intent to hurt myself personally as well as Parker-Moore.” He huffs, “A rival of sorts. They can try to slander my name all they want, but what they did was wrong and charges are being pressed. And that’s all I’m going to say on this issue.”

I hear a mocking laugh in the audience and I scan the crowd to see who it is. I do a double take. It’s Patterson. I’ve seen his picture over and over now that I know who it was that destroyed me without a second thought. He has an evil fucking smirk on his face that makes me want to punch him. “You better watch those accusations, Logan, before you have a lawsuit on your hands. We all know who the ‘rival’ is that you’re talking about, and as far as I know, you have no proof of any wrongdoing on my part.”

Logan stands at the podium radiating anger, and the intensity is enough to still my breathing. He stares down Patterson but says nothing. He looks deadly, but Patterson ignores the warning.

“You got caught banging your secretary, and now you’re trying to blame me for it... It’s obvious you only gave her the job so you could bang her.”

I rise from my seat without my own conscious consent and try to dive for Logan as he climbs off the stage and into the crowd of reporters. He’s furious, and he’s snapped. Adrenaline pumps through my blood and my body heats. No! The entire room lets out a collective gasp. His face going white, Patterson tries to scramble over several people to get away from the raging Logan, but he’s too slow. Logan climbs over two people and the metal chairs are tossed out of the way as the crowd disperses, moving away from Logan’s target. He grabs Patterson by the collar, yanking him close. I can’t see everything, but I can see the first punch. Logan has him on the ground. Fuck! The room erupts into chaos, and the crowd surrounds the two men, shouting and yelling and snapping pictures. I can barely breathe as I push through the crowd.

“Logan!” I yell, my heart beating within my chest like a war drum. There’s no way Logan is leaving this room without handcuffs. And even worse, this is going to cause more damage to Parker-Moore than the erotic photos of us ever will. I try to reach him, but I keep getting shoved back. I can’t let him do this. I have to stop him.

I’m pushed back against a tide of bodies and am nearly trampled as I stumble off balance. Logan could end up killing Patterson, but all these vultures care about is getting their precious photos to sell to the highest bidder.

“Logan! Stop!” I scream, regaining my balance and trying to push my way through to him. I’m not sure if he heard me, but the crowd parts behind the fight, and I stand as tall as I can to see why.

Bloody and covered in sweat, he begins pushing his way through the crowd of shouting reporters. He’s silent and heaving in his breaths. Ignoring everyone and heading toward the exit.

Not wasting any time, I chase after him, shoving and pushing my way through anyone that gets in the way.

When I make it outside, there are a crowd of reporters crowding Logan, snapping pictures left and right.

“Logan!” I yell, running in my heels and trying to get his attention. But he doesn’t see me, and he doesn’t hear me; he’s too busy rushing toward the sidewalk where his limo awaits. I watch as Andrew gets out of the vehicle and rushes around to the passenger side, opening the door and holding it open for Logan.

I run as fast as my legs can carry me to the sidewalk, shoving shouting reporters out of the way. I look up, frantically breathing and our eyes meet. Logan gets out and walks straight toward me, pulling me into the limo with him and slamming the door shut. Andrew’s already pulling away with screeching tires by the time I’m able to catch my breath and sit up.

“Why did you do that?” I shake my head, practically screaming at him with tears in my eyes. My heart’s still pounding. This is bad, it’s so fucking bad.

“No one’s going to talk to you like that.” His voice is weak.

“This isn’t good,” I say and take in a slow breath, closing my eyes, trying to calm down.

When Logan doesn’t respond, I open my eyes and lean forward, peering at him with concern. It’s the first time that I really take a good look at him. His knuckles are bruised and cut, and there’s dried blood from his hands up to his arm. It’s all over his shirt. I finally reach his face, and my heart stops beating. His eyes seem distant, something… something’s wrong. “Logan?”

It takes him a moment to register that I'm talking to him. Logan tries to say something, but his words are unintelligible to my ears and his body sways.

“Logan?” I ask again, panicked now and gripping his shoulders and then head, trying to get him to look at me.

His eyes rolling into the back of his head, Logan collapses against the seat.
Oh my God. No!
“Logan!” I scream, shaking him and refusing to believe this is real. He’s unresponsive. I press my hand against his throat.

“What’s going on?” Andrew asks with concern.

I scream, “He needs a hospital! Now!”

T
he constant
beep
,
beep
,
beep
from the machine is giving me a fucking headache. I stare at it. The blue and red lines are moving rhythmically across the screen. My back is stiff from being in this fucking hospital bed. The sheets they have are thin and scratchy. My shirt’s ripped down the front. They couldn’t fucking unbutton it fast enough.

I’m pissed. I don’t want to be here.

I’m not ready.

“Mr. Parker?” Doctor Wallace says. I take a deep breath and turn to face him on my right. I school my expression so I don’t take the anger out on him. It’s not his fault.

It’s no one’s fault. It just is what it is.

“We need to move this to radiation. It’s now stage four non-Hodgkin lymphoma.”

I smile weakly and let my head fall to the side.

“The intravenous didn’t work then, I take it?” I’ve been getting intravenous chemotherapy with rituximab every other month for almost two years. At first it was just the pills. Then oral chemo and steroids to reduce the swelling in my spleen and prepare my body for chemotherapy.

I was hoping intravenous every other month would be enough. After all, money can buy the best doctors and good health. Can’t it? Apparently not.

“I’m sorry Logan, it’s time that we move to the next step. The scan shows that it’s moving from the bone, which can be painful.”

I huff a humorless laugh. Painful doesn’t begin to describe what I felt on that stage. It was like someone stabbing me in my calf, straight to the bone over and over again.

The anger was just barely enough to keep me from acting on the pain. Chadwick Patterson is going to go down for what he did to my Rose. He had the fucking audacity to show up to the conference. That motherfucker. Smashing in his face isn’t anywhere close to justice.

I look down at my hand for the first time since I woke up. An IV is sticking out from the back of it, with a thick piece of tape holding it in place.

As I flex my hand it moves slightly, and it’s irritating as fuck. There are small cuts on my knuckles that are raw and bruised. Good. I hope his face looks even worse.

“The radiation is only for twenty-one days and it’s user-friendly, so to speak.” I look back up to the good doctor and feel slightly sympathetic that I’ve been ignoring him.

“You’ll remain relatively pain free, just tired constantly, and you shouldn’t lose your hair,” he continues.

“Do I have a choice?” I ask. I don’t want radiation. My grandfather died the day they started radiation. He was fine up until then. The slight pain in his chest was the only indication that anything was wrong. I see it as a sign. I don’t want it.

“If you want to kill it and live,” he says and I look him in the eyes while he gives me a grave expression, “then no, you don’t.”

I nod my head solemnly, giving in to the inevitable.

A small knock at the door takes the doctor’s attention.

He opens it and reveals Charlotte, my Rose. So fragile and beautiful. Yet something I shouldn’t hold.

Guilt presses against my chest as I stare into her glassy eyes. Her cheeks are red and tearstained.

Doctor Wallace turns to face me, standing in the doorway to prevent her from coming in farther. “Mr. Park-”

“Yes, let her in.” I won’t deny her.

She lets out a small sob as she walks into the room.

“Logan,” she says and her voice cracks.

“I’m sorry, Rose.” She puts a small hand over mine. “I should have told you.”

In this moment I hate myself. I know I never had a right to make her feel anything for me. I was selfish. I’m so fucking undeserving of her.

She shakes her head and doesn’t answer me. Instead she grips onto me tighter and tries to calm herself down.

“I still have faith that you’ll get through this, Logan,” Doctor Wallace says as he opens the door, “I need you to agree to do the radiation though. You have to stop working and work on yourself.”

Rose watches as he shuts the door, leaving us alone in the small room.

“I’m sor-” I start to speak, but she interrupts me.

“I talked to the nurses,” she says as she goes to the corner of the room and drags a chair across the floor and brings it closer to the bed. She flinches and mouths,
sorry
when the leg of the chair scraping along the floor causes a loud scratching sound.

She clears her throat and picks my hand back up. “They said it’s curable.”

Her eyes move from where our hands are clasped to my eyes. “They said the odds are in your,” her voice breaks and she lets go of my hand to cover her face.

Fuck. It breaks my heart to see her like this.

She takes in a ragged but steadying breath and angrily wipes under her eyes.

“Rose, my Rose. I’m so-”

“I’ll stay with you.” She interrupts me again and takes my hand with both of hers. My lips part and my heart swells. I want so badly to be a selfish prick and not push her away.

But she deserves more.

“I might not make it through this…” A small sob is ripped through her throat again as I press on and say, “You deserve so much more.”

She shakes her head and refuses to look at me. She needs to let go. She should just move on with her life. I should’ve left her alone. This is my fault. “I never should have done this to you.” She’s quiet for a long moment. My heart is shredded. I don’t know how I let this get so out of hand. “You have to go, Charlotte.” Her eyes snap up at me at the use of her first name. I have to send her away, it’s the right thing to do.

“I won’t go, Logan Parker, and you can’t make me.” She’s angry. Furious even. I didn’t expect this reaction. I take in a sharp breath and remember the woman I first met. The one who came into my office and was ready to bite my head off for toying with her. “I mean it,” she says and her voice takes on a hard edge. “You will not throw me out, Logan.”

“It’s what’s best for you.” I try to reason with her.

“I am a grown-ass woman and if I want to stay with you, I’m going to.”

My head falls back against the hospital bed. My heart aching and the desire to keep her to myself clouding my judgment. I can’t look at her as I say, “Rose-”

“I love you,” she says harshly. “I love you, Logan and I’m not going anywhere.” My heart does a flip in my chest and I have to stare at her in shock for a moment. I try to comprehend how she could forgive me so easily. She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t love me either. Not after what I’ve done to her.

She cups my face and like the selfish man that I am, I lean into her warmth. I open my eyes and stare into hers. There’s nothing but love reflecting back at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. She kisses me deeply and I reach up to cup the back of her head to deepen it. “I don’t deserve you,” I say and I know I’ve never said truer words.

“You don’t see yourself clearly.” She tells me the words I told her months ago.

I tell her something that’s equally true in return. “I love you, my Rose.”