Contract with CEO

Nathan

"I can't believe you're considering it," I said, slamming my fist on my desk.

"Nathan, be reasonable."

"Be reasonable!" The volume of my voice rises even louder. "How am I being unreasonable?"

"You're yelling at me in the middle of the office, for starters," Dad hisses. "Do you want all our employees to know you can't control yourself?"

My other hand clenches into a fist, and I take a deep, calming breath, telling myself not to do anything stupid.

I've worked too hard to throw it all away now.

My father makes a disparaging remark, and I swallow the bile rising in my throat at the thought that everything I've worked for is going to my younger brother, Benjamin.

Simply because he's engaged.

"When I retire, Nathan, I want to know that this company I've spent my life building will be in safe, stable hands."

"My hands," I say through clenched teeth. "I'm the one who knows the business inside out. It was always intended for you to leave it in my expert and experienced hands."

"That's what I assumed, I agree," Dad says, tidying up a stack of papers on my desk. "But your life is chaotic, my son. You jump from one woman's bed to another, you get drunk, and you never settle down."

"Have I ever been late to work?" I say tersely. "Have I ever missed a board meeting, or made a costly mistake for the company, or come in hungover?"

"Well, no. But you need to see-," Dad starts, and I can't control myself.

I slam my fist down on the desk again, coffee splattering from the top of the takeout cup. It's the only thing stopping me from telling Dad where he can stick his opinions and storming out of this room.

But deep down, I know I don't want to do that, even though every cell in my body is telling me to.

I grab some tissues and toss them into the mess. That will do for now. I'll call my secretary, Hannah, to clean it up properly once Dad is gone.

I stare at the cup. It has a name full of puns I can never remember. But the coffee is decent, and the shop is on my way to work. Well, it would be nice if the hot liquid wasn't seeping into the papers on my desk while my father stares at me.

"What am I supposed to see?" I hiss.

"It's important to have a stable family man running things. A woman has a stabilizing influence, Nathan, on her husband but also on the business. People trust a family man more. And when I hand over the reins, your brother will be married to Madison. It's much simpler that way."

I close my eyes for a moment. It can't be that my future depends entirely on whether or not I'm married.

"You will, of course, continue to play an important role. But I believe Benjamin is the ideal man to be CEO when I step down."

I grit my teeth. "I've given everything to this company. Whether I sleep with the same woman every night or a different woman, what does that have to do with the business?"

"You don't need to be rude, Nathan. I've made my point. Don't forget the family dinner tonight. You're expected at eight. No excuses."

He leaves, and I call Hannah. She doesn't even look me in the eye, but who would after hearing me yell at my father? She just cleans up silently.

She's been working here for a few years, and I've noticed she's quite attractive. Her curves beneath her short skirts have tempted me.

But I don't linger on my workplace. Business is too important for a lovesick girl to wait for me and want even more after a one-night stand.

I've never let my private life or my love for women and good wine interfere with my business. Never.

And now I'm going to lose everything because Benjamin decided to put a ring on his girlfriend's finger four years ago? I didn't even know they had set a damn date!

The papers on the desk are damaged, just like my coffee, and I'm considering sending Hannah to get another one before I change my mind. A walk will do me good. I need to come up with a plan to turn this situation around. And I think I'll do better if I'm not at the office.

Away from my father and Benjamin's smug face. It's not like I haven't helped him out of several financial jams in the past. But apparently, the only one whose misdeeds are being scrutinized is me.

The line at the café is long, and I'm tapping my foot impatiently. The girl behind the counter is the same as usual. Does she ever take a day off? Her black hair is piled up in a bun on top of her head, and she keeps biting her lower lip as she rushes between orders.

She spills a cup, and I see her mouth form a curse, even though she doesn't say it out loud. She starts to replace it, and the line moves at a glacial pace. I can't focus on the noise of the café, and I really need caffeine to concentrate on this ridiculous situation.

Everyone assumed I would take over the company once Dad retired. I'm sure of it. Even Benjamin. Where did this change of heart come from? And can I do something to reverse this trend?

I can't exactly find a wife in a matter of weeks, can I? And just parading a girlfriend around won't convince Dad. He wants it all: marriage, stability, love, no doubt about that. It can't be faked.

But it would be unreasonable for him to suggest that it's the most important thing here.

And doesn't he see that it would forever destroy our relationship with Benjamin? We got along pretty well, but since he got involved in this business, things have become tenser.

I won't work for him as my boss.

"Cappuccino, extra shot," I say, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter when I finally reach the front of that damn line. "And hurry up."

She freezes, her dark eyes meeting mine, anger flashing through them. "I'm going as fast as I can," she says tersely.

I take a step back, as if I've been slapped. I see this girl every day for over a year, and she's never talked to me like that. She fiddles with the machine behind her before turning back to me. There's no polite smile on her lips.

I frown. "I have work to do, and I need that coffee."

She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. "It will be ready when it's ready," she says, then her eyes slide past me to the customer behind me.

"What can I get you?" she asks, and the man behind me orders a coffee and a croissant.

In the background, my coffee is ready to pour. I see it there, waiting, starting to cool, and my irritation grows. I already have enough to deal with today without this attitude and this waste of time from a belligerent barista.

As she reaches for the lid of the pastries, my irritation reaches a boiling point. I reach out to her, wanting to get her attention, to point out that my coffee is ready. The brief contact of my fingers against her skin sends electricity through my entire body.

It's not a sensation I expected. Is it because I'm so pent up? Or because it's been a few weeks since I last slept with someone? Whatever it is, it distracts me enough that when she pushes my hand away, I stumble back a bit.

She shoots me an angry look, and all the control she was trying to keep over her mood has clearly vanished. Maybe she's not really cut out for a career in customer service.

Her voice is calm and cold as she holds my gaze, refusing to look away. The air around us seems charged with heat, anger, and electricity. "Just because you're a successful businessman doesn't mean you can touch me. Keep your hands off me."