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

“Study what?” Jake regards me with interest, a small quirk of a smile on the corner of his mouth and Sylvana is watching me with an equally warm expression. Encouraging is the word that comes to mind when I look at them both.

Is this what family does when you have some hair brained idea you want to try?

“I was thinking I could, maybe, possibly try becoming a counselor of sorts…You know to work with kids who ummm …” I lose the courage again and focus on my fingers as they make their way to my hair, nervous fidgeting habit coming back to haunt me; saying it aloud sounds dumb.

What do I know about helping other kids?

“… came from abused backgrounds and broken families?” Jake finishes my sentence, taking my hand away from my hair, calming me, like he always does. I glance up at him and nod, shyly, as he focuses on me with an encouraging smile.

“I think that would be pretty amazing and not just for the kids you could help, Emma, but I think for you too.” He gets up and slides his chair back, walking around the table behind me, leans down, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, kisses me on the neck and buries his face in my soft hair to nuzzle me. Telling me that he’s fully on board with my plan and making me feel a hundred times surer.

“I think that is a spectacularly selfless plan, Emma.” Sylvana beams at me. “I’m pretty sure with my connections I could help you along the way, help you find your feet and direction. If helping kids from the same abusive situation you were in, is what you really want to do?” She literally shines at me and my courage returns tenfold.

And there it is … Sylvana says it so effortlessly, like it’s not some shamefully, horrible, ugly secret, just a common piece of knowledge between the people close to one another in the room and I don’t feel anything like I used too.

No shame, no pain, no anything. Just Jake’s arms around me and when he straightens and runs a hand down my hair igniting the usual thrill of shivers and heat, it comes to me in a flash.

My past doesn’t hurt me anymore. I’m not ashamed of it. I gaze adoringly at the man I love, as he moves back to his seat glancing at me with equal infatuation, and I feel different. I’m sat taller, my chin held higher and my expression migrates to a bright smile.

That kid from Chicago who separated herself into different versions and locked boxes has somehow come crashing back together again into one complete person. Her past no longer a deep dark secret she hides from those who she thought would run from her if they knew … because here they are, sitting facing her, with love and care despite knowing about it all. They don’t look at her as though she’s some broken or dirty shell, they don’t look at her the way her own flesh and blood did. They accept her and love her even more for the scars she bares … a real family with real love.

I’m not broken anymore; I am whole and only one piece of my puzzle remains out of place. I’m going to have to face my mother and the fact that she will never give me what I’ve been trying to get from her my entire life.

Her love.

The difference now is I no longer need it.

“Baby, wait until I’m back to do this?” Jake is trying to tug the case out of my hands. We’re back in the Manhattan apartment and have been for a couple of days, overseeing the packing of some of his favorite items and our clothes to be shipped to the Hamptons. The journey home was sickness free and I’m starting to feel a lot better these days. I am starting to feel great, especially now that I have the full undivided attentions of my lover once more and he’s only too willing to keep

a major in karate kill whatsits or some other nonsense. I know you spar with him in the gym

said no!” Jake yanks the case

contents splay everywhere in a crazy dramatic fashion.

angrily. So seriously not

immature bossy

I stick out my chin defiantly. My rage

Ha fucking ha.

foot in Chicago without me then I’ll seriously lose my shit.” He’s scary right now with his blazing green eyes and tense stubbly jaw. Scary in a sexy male model ‘who could possibly use his

while

Hormones!

appreciate the swearing either.” I stomp and pull my height up to meet his, unsuccessfully seeing as he’s six feet two and I’m

get me started on her because last time she fucking crushed you.” He is radiating pure aggressive

“Stop talking down to me

count as when

days, that’s all, two fucking days to oversee this crap and then I’ll take you myself. I’ll drive there and back. Until then I’ll lock you in this apartment and tell Mathews I’ll fucking fire him if you step one foot in his car.” He seethes at me; pretty

step back at the wave of his rage and lift my chin a tiny bit higher,

only get a fucking train to Chicago, carrying my case by myself, but I’ll go as soon as it’s dark and you’re gone and not even take a goddamn phone, so you can’t track my cell or call me.” I

that! He’d go into worried protective overload and maybe blow a brain

little moods anymore, or him storming off with hurt feelings, and I’m sure as hell not scared of any little consequences. Somewhere along the way I’ve realized that I have nothing to

dare, Emma.” That nasty growl does nothing for me. If anything, it makes

Maybe later!

I bite back, my defiant, hormonal mood in full swing, and he straightens up, that tiny smirk twitching to his mouth breaking his scowling intimidation in a second. He rubs a hand across his face and scrubs it for a second. I guess all his posturing is just a very convincing act if he’s so quick to

Hmmmmm.

and reaches out, tugging me toward him, planting a kiss on my mouth, cupping my jaw with both hands, and burying his fingers in my hair. Sighing in