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

I swallow it down in agitation and walk to the kitchen, to fix myself something to eat. I’ve found that I have a love of cooking now since I have all the time in the world to leisurely stand around in this beautiful chef’s dream. Sarah would love it. I’m sure she’d be proud of how domesticated I’ve become, knowing my way around a kitchen. I’m liking not having a cook until she returns at the end of the week, it’s somehow enjoyable making meals with love and caring precision for Jake and me to enjoy.

Maybe I’ll follow in Sylvana’s footsteps and cook for my own family once or twice a week like she does.

Soon the noise of drilling and male chatter and laughter annoys me enough to send me to my room for refuge, at least in here I can turn on the TV or run a bath and lock them all out. The large hall echoes around downstairs and amplifies it to incredibly ridiculous proportions. Somehow so much louder today. The bed still smells of Jake and has retained some of his body heat locked between the sheets, so I go and curl into his side and wrap the blankets around me to drown out the chaos and take a nap.

I am exhausted enough to try to get some sleep. I’m too tired to exchange pleasantries with the workman today and even Monica isn’t around for me to roll my eyes at.

Thank God.

Her overly eager eye fluttering and sexy smiles at Jake every five minutes are slowly bringing out inner violent Emma lately. The woman simply has no scruples at all. She reminds me of the bored rich bitches Jake and I would meet at every event; those who hung on him and his every word despite their husbands standing close by.

The downside to a popular hot man!

The noise is too much, even in here, and I give up. I haul my restless body out of bed and resign myself to getting dressed; every intention of spending today in the solace of Sylvana’s kitchen, hoping for some inner calm and serenity … if not for me then at least for the baby. If I have the possibility of avoiding the last day of banging and hammering, surrounded by strange men, then I will. I’m uneasy here without Jake so going to see his mamma with her gorgeous welcoming heart will be a comfortable break.

I swear maxi dresses were made for the comfort of pregnant women; in one fell swoop I’m dressed and ready

to get on with the day since I am begrudgingly forced out

entrance to the living area. I can’t seem to go anywhere downstairs without a layer of dust settling on

the burly men calls to me as

workmen while Monica and I focus on the décor, blissfully ignorant to the construction work going on; that’s Jake’s kind of thing. It’s unusual

keys if you’re not back?” He regards me with a relaxed business-like expression on his face and my insides instantly calm, no danger here. Old Emma always rears up inside of me when I am faced with unexpected, strange

either be there or close

own key. I assumed Mathews or someone at Sylvana’s had been letting them in and out; and it bothers me, a lot. Those random men have keys and access codes to my house and it’s grating on my inner calm, old

have forgotten to tell me that

face and a rumbling stomach despite having eaten. Sylvana’s cream cannelloni are singing to me

lane, as is a morning curled on the couch with

our boredom away. This new

* * *

the house, the entrance hall is in complete darkness, so I clap my hands to switch on the

Jake and his gadgets.

see my hall minus a lot of tools and mess and protective sheeting. I blink around appreciatively and place my bag on the uncovered side unit and sigh with annoyance when I notice that damn crowbar, from here you can just spot it between the rails. The workman who left it on the stairs in the first place obviously hadn’t realized

just not that. I suppose given the color of the vertical dark metal railings it’s easy to miss a crowbar hanging dejectedly beside them; similar in color, it would be easy to slip from eye sight at every other angle in

phone ringing distracts me, drawing me back to the entrance way. Jake has kept in contact a few times today and I spoke to him on my cell at his mamma’s before I came home so it’s probably him; making sure I managed to walk the fifty yards back home without injury or getting lost. I walk to my bag and fish it out, seeing Mathews name flash up on the screen. It’s strange for Mathews to ring