Bride Of The eccentric CEO

RICHARD I BENT OVER THE TABLE, the din of the busy restaurant fading into the background as I struggled to contain my anger. Repressing the urge to yell, I kept my voice low, fury dripping from the words. “What did you say? I’m sure I didn’t hear you correctly.”David relaxed back in his chair, not at all concerned by my ire. “I said,Tyler is being promoted to partner.”My hand tightened around my glass so hard, I was surprised it didn’t shatter. “That was supposed to be my promotion.”He shrugged. “Things changed.”“I worked my ass off. I brought in over nine million. You told me if I surpassed last year, I’d be made partner.”He waved his hand. “And Tyler brought in twelve million.”I slammed my hand on the table, not giving a shit if it drew attention to us. “That’s because the bastard went behind my back and stole the client. The campaign idea was mine. He fucking ripped me off!”“Your word against his, Richard.” “Bullshit. This is all bullshit.”“The decision is made, and the of

RICHARD THE NEXT MORNING, I HAD an idea, but I wasn’t sure how to execute it. If Graham Gavin wanted a family man, he’d get one. I only had to figure out how to accomplish that small detail. I could do it—it was my field of expertise, after all—I was an idea man.My main problem was the sort of women I typically had in my life.Female versions of myself. Beautiful to look at, but cold, calculating, and not interested in anything except what I could give them: the fancy dinners, expensive gifts, and if they lasted long enough, a trip away somewhere before I dumped them. Because I always did. I only cared about what they could give me, as well. All I wanted was something pretty to look at and a warm body to bury myself in at the end of the evening. A few hours of mindless pleasure until the stark, cold reality of my life set back in.None of them would be the sort of woman Graham Gavin would believe I’d spend the rest of my life with. Sometimes I could barely spend an entire evening.Mi

RICHARD THE BUILDING HOUSING THE GAVIN Group was a polar opposite to that of Anderson Inc. Unlike the vast skyscraper of steel and glass I worked from daily, this building was brick, only four stories high, and surrounded by trees. I parked my car after checking in with the guard at the entrance, who smiled pleasantly and handed me a guest pass. Entering the building, another security guard greeted me and let me know Graham Gavin’s office was located on the top floor, then wished me a good day.Minutes later, a secretary led me to a boardroom, handed me a fresh cup of coffee, and told me Graham would be with me momentarily. I took the time to absorb the details of the room around me, again struck by the difference between the two companies.Anderson Inc. was all about flash. The offices and boardroom were all state of the art—white and black was the predominant palette. Even the artwork was monochrome with lots of metal everywhere. Hard, modern chairs, thick glass-topped tables and de

KATHARINE I STOOD ACROSS THE STREET from Mr. VanRyan’s building, staring up at the tall structure. It was intimidating and spoke of wealth—all tinted glass and concrete looming over the city, reminding me of the man who lived within it. Cold, remote, unreachable. I shivered a little as I looked at it, wondering why I was there.The building was about a ten-minute walk from the home, and I was on time. It hadn’t been a good visit with Penny today; she had been upset and agitated, refusing to eat or talk to me, and I ended up leaving early. I was disappointed. She had been good all week, and I had hoped today would be the same; that I’d be able to talk with her as we used to, but it hadn’t happened. Instead, it just added to my stressful, odd day. I left the home feeling despondent, and unsure as to why I was going to see Mr. VanRyan.Mr. VanRyan.He had already confused me asking me to his home this evening. His behavior the rest of the afternoon proved to be equally bizarre. When he r

RICHARD ASIDE FROM KATHARINE’S HESITANT INSTRUCTIONS, the drive was silent. The farther away we went from my neighborhood, the darker my mood turned. When we pulled up in front of a dilapidated house, I turned to Katharine.“This is your house?”She shook her head. “No. I rent an apartment in the house.”I slammed the car into park, yanking off my seatbelt. “Show me.”I followed her up the uneven path, double clicking the key fob. I hoped the tires were still attached to my car when I returned. In fact, I hoped the car would be there.I didn’t try to hide my displeasure as I looked around at what I assumed was considered a studio apartment. I considered it a dump. A futon, an old chair, and a desk that also served as a table were the only pieces of furniture in the room. A short counter with a hot plate and a small refrigerator posed as a kitchen. There were a half dozen boxes piled by the wall. A wardrobe hanger held the dowdy suits and blouses Katharine wore.I strode over to the on