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

The Carrero Influence

~ The Dance ~

Jake shifted in his seat for the millionth time and tried once more to get his brain to focus on the laptop on the highly polished walnut surface. He just couldn’t keep himself on track lately.

The sound of a female clearing her throat startled him to look up and the impatient stance of Margo waving a piece of paper with a raised eyebrow suggested she had been talking to him while he was zoned out.

“Sorry. What?” He frowned and sighed heavily, pushing himself back into his molded leather chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves in agitation.

“For God’s sake, Jacob. I’ve been here for three minutes talking at you. You need to just bloody well call her.” Margo’s stern tone did nothing to help his current mood, and he just shifted forward again to try to ignore that intent, chastising glare. He went to his laptop, ducking his head in an attempt to dodge her blue eyes and typed something aimlessly.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. And less of the Jacob.” He shrugged with one shoulder and pushed images of Emma from his head for the millionth time. He wondered if maybe he should remind Margo that personal relationship aside, he was still her boss.

Damn Emma for always being inside his head.

a love-sick kid for weeks on end after impulsively firing the best assistant you ever had means nothing. Look … you may not want to spell things out to me, but it is pretty obvious you crossed the line with her,

eye and instead went back to typing pointless words

He yanked his hands free, agitated, pushing back his chair and getting up to walk up and down the length of his windows, finding no peace in the skyline out there for

that line again. Why are we even talking about this? Is there something I can actually help you with?” He stomped back to his seat, not

you, short-sighted and pig-headed to boot!” She threw the paper she had been waving around in her hand on

are they?” He

wanted all the staff to attend. I suggest she gets them and decides for herself if she wants to see you.” Margo didn’t wait for a response, she was turning on her heel and moodily trotting out on stilettos that made an echoing clip-clop at speed. She was still pissed at him, had been since she came back and found out what he had done

emphasize that she was still seriously furious with him. He had endured weeks of her snippy attitude and stern chastising already, he had no clue why he hadn’t fired her ass for it. Probably because deep down he knew

in gold foiling, a thumb tracing her first name slowly as that familiar ache in his heart panged to the forefront. Without hesitation,

outer part of his desk and sank back covering his face with the back of his hands and sighing. He had no idea if she would even go to the dance but part of him wanted it to be her choice if she did. He wanted to see her, yet he didn’t, because it would hurt

instantly, the clip-clop of heels, the swish of fabric and waft of Margo’s perfume, by the time he moved his hands she was retreating to her own part of the office carrying the sheet of paper and still freezing him out. He rolled his eyes and thought better of trying to chastise her about this ongoing behavior. Margo was like a second mother to him and his own mother would probably be

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