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

“Might be a sexy fresh look for you, Ems. You’re cute enough to pull it off.” He smiles at me and I sigh, pulling myself back together and dry my face on my sleeve. I take the gadgets he hands me from my desk and put them in the base of the suitcase, gently wrapping them in the protective sleeves I leave in there. My mind is blocking out any thoughts about my mother lying in a hospital bed right now and I don’t even want to process this anymore.

“I can’t let you come Jake … I don’t want you to see her like she is.” I glance at him nervously. Stomach churning.

“Why, Emma? You haven’t told me what happened.” He moves behind me, taking a strand of my loose hair and tucks it behind my ear; a normal Jake gesture which serves to make me feel fully calm. Safe. His presence and touch like a balm.

“I don’t want you to know … It’s too … There are things about my life before here, that should stay in the past.” I glance back at him pleadingly seeing his frown soften into a gentle smile as he hides his disappointment well.

“Okay, Emma … I promised I wouldn’t push.” He inhales heavily, defeated in a way.

“But you better call me every night and keep me updated … If you need me, I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Can’t leave my number one girl coping alone when she’s upset.” He brushes another strand of my hair behind my ear gently, his fingers lingering, brushing softly over my cheek bone. His green eyes locked on mine steadily.

“Promise me?”

“I promise.” I nod, basking in the caress and turn away to continue packing. Poor Jefferson has been sitting down in the car for long enough already, and I have a two-hour flight to take, minimum. Then after that I must face a sight, I already know will be unbearable in so many ways.

When I’m done packing, I go into Sarah’s room to leave her a note. I don’t want to call her and say the actual words in front of Jake. Her bed is a riot of covers and clothes and I can only guess they’ve gone for a night out on the town, not that it bothers me. We lead separate lives nowadays.

I exit. In a way I’m glad she’s not here; not having to explain with Jake so close by about what’s

Will she ever change?

night that I’m gone. I am torn in two at leaving him and not wanting him to see who I used to be. I need him far away from that part of me right now, but

plane himself. He waves from the tarmac and I head to my seat,

***

streets are badly lit, but don’t conceal the grubbiness or derelict area from view. The streets, although busy with traffic, seem almost deserted. The aura of poverty

mother has lived in since the day she brought me home from the hospital. My mother is stable in St Bernard Hospital, but I won’t be

I don’t. I’m cold and empty and upset. Enraged at her, that she just keeps following the same path in life, over and over. She’s my mother, yet all she ever taught me was that the people who are supposed to be there for you, above everyone else, only have their own

teach me one valuable lesson though: the only way to get through life is to trust no one except yourself. Self-reliance is the only way to live, and never let anyone get close enough to damage you irreversibly. She taught me that men will only look to overpower you and abuse you, that she is so weak in her quest to find a man that she accepts any form of control they exert. Any punishments

me. I’ll

letters peeling, paint chipped, and exterior ugly. The apartments above are brown and grubby. The windows appear dark and dirty from down here,

Home sweet home.

before he leaves. It’s narrow and stinks of rotten food and urine causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I push my way up the stairs to the top landing, straight to the scratched blue front door which met me every day of my young life. There’s a light on inside shining through the glass indicating

appears a lot younger in person than the age she told me on the phone. She’s small and wiry with long tawny hair and vibrant blue eyes. She looks exactly as I did at the same age, even the pouting lips and innocent, naive expression. It tugs at my chest and I wonder if my mother sees me in this girl and that’s why she feels compelled to help her. The

Yet she failed her own child in ways she has no way to fathom. Still, to this day, completely oblivious to the fact she was no mother at all. All her energy at trying to