Mr. Hotshot CEO Read online

  I pull the phone away from my ear. “Could you take your voice down a notch? And we’re not sleeping together.”

  “Then why on earth are you spending the night with him?”

  “Actually, it’s more than one night...” It takes me five minutes to explain the strange events that have led to this point.

  “Right,” Naomi says. “I see. Except I don’t really see.”

  “I’m getting five thousand dollars for doing almost nothing. I’ll give the money to you, and you’ll be able to afford our trip to New York City this fall! Isn’t that great?”

  “Courtney, you don’t need to get the money for me. If New York is that important to you, I can try to figure something out, okay?”

  Nope, not happening. My sister will just put everything on her credit card, and credit card debt is the worst.

  “It’s no problem,” I say. “I like Julian. This will be fine. And any money you don’t use for the trip...you can keep it. A rainy-day fund in case you have to fix your car again.”

  Sometimes my relationship with my sister feels a little one-sided. Like, she’s always the one helping me, not the other way around.

  I really want to go to New York, but I also really want to do this for her.

  “I promise,” I say. “It’s not a hardship.”

  “If you’re sure... But don’t stay if you ever feel unsafe, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And if you’re not enjoying yourself at all, you should leave, too.” She chuckles. “I just Googled him, and I’ve decided you should definitely be sleeping with him. In fact, I’m looking at a picture of him shirtless—”

  “Where is this picture?”

  “It’s in a charity calendar of half-dressed businessmen from a few years ago.”

  My excitement deflates. “Julian would never do something like that. I know him well enough to say that much.” I pause. “You understand why I can’t sleep with him, don’t you?”

  That road leads to inevitable heartbreak, and as I’ve proven in the past, I don’t deal well with heartbreak.

  When I was twenty-one, I had a boyfriend. Dane and I had been together for a year and a half, and I thought we’d get married one day. I was in what should have been my final year of undergrad, and I was excited about applying to grad school and figuring out what I wanted to do with my life.

  Everything was going great.

  Then I got depressed. I slid into this awful world where...I don’t quite know how to describe it. You know frosted glass windows, like you might have in a washroom? It’s like experiencing the entire world through one of those. You can’t see it properly, can’t experience it. My brain felt like it was full of straw, and my body felt like it was being weighed down by a ton of bricks. I could barely function—even getting out of bed and brushing my teeth was a ridiculous amount of effort—and the fact that I could barely function made me feel worse about myself, creating an awful loop of negative self-talk.

  It wasn’t my first episode of severe depression. However, it was the first time it had happened when I was legally an adult and not living with my parents, and it was easier to get help. I went to the health services center at the university, where I saw doctors, counselors, and psychologists. I did therapy, I tried a bunch of anti-depressants.

  Nothing worked.

  Dane was initially supportive, but he couldn’t deal with me when I was depressed, not for long, and so he broke up with me.

  Not surprisingly, this didn’t improve my mental health. It got worse. I had to go on leave from university, and I spent a week in the hospital under suicide watch.

  In other words, it nearly killed me.

  I can’t really blame Dane. If he didn’t want to be with me, he shouldn’t have had to wait until I was healthy to tell me that. But it taught me an important lesson.

  In the end, I only have myself, and I can’t count on a man to be there when I need him. I can’t count on a man to put up with me when I’m in that state. Nobody, with the exception of my sister, can cope with me when I’m sick. So I haven’t had a boyfriend since Dane, and that’s not going to change.

  “Sure, Julian and I are attracted to each other,” I say, “but I can’t afford to get attached to him, and if we sleep together...”

  I’ve tried having sex just for fun. It’s not like I’ve been completely celibate for the past ten years. However, I can’t escape the fact that for me, sex means something. I wish I were different, but I’m not.

  “You could end up dating,” Naomi says.

  “No. The risks involved in a romantic relationship are too great.” Even if, by some miracle, there’s a man out there who would stay with me when I’m at my lowest, it’s not worth trying, not when failure means a risk of death. Plus, this is the worst possible time, since I know I’m going to slide into depression again soon.

  So, I’m just going to spend time with Julian, nothing more. Make five thousand dollars for my sister and enjoy his lavish lifestyle for two weeks.

  Naomi sighs. “You’re too pessimistic.”

  “I only met the guy a few hours ago,” I say. “It’s too early for you to be matchmaking. Now, about that charity calendar. You were joking, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Julian isn’t in the calendar, but his brother Vince is.”

  After I end the call, I find the photo of a half-dressed Vince Fong online. He’s a good-looking man who isn’t lacking in abs, but he doesn’t do much for me.

  There’s a knock at the door and I drop my phone, feeling embarrassed that I’ve been looking at semi-naked pictures of Julian’s brother when I’m in Julian’s penthouse. It feels like cheating, even though there’s nothing going on between us.

  “I have a T-shirt for you,” Julian says. “Can I come in?”

  “Yep!” I call out, turning the phone over on the bedside table, although I’ve already closed the browser.

  He steps into the room and I suck in a breath, willing my heart to stop beating so fast. He hands me a black T-shirt with a V-neck.

  Mm. That would look good on him. He could make an entire calendar of himself, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, and I would buy it.

  “Need anything else?” he asks.

  “Uh, no,” I say, feeling a little flustered. Thank God he can’t read my mind. “I’m settling in just fine. Nothing else I need. Nope, nothing at all!”

  He looks at me like I’m slightly deranged, then says, “What are the plans for tomorrow?”

  “Plans? Um...” Then it comes to me. “Your problem is that you always need a plan, always need to know where things are going. You need to learn to be spontaneous.”

  “Spontaneous?” He says the word as though it’s utterly distasteful.

  “Yeah. You need to learn how to go with the flow and let someone else be in charge for a while. So even though I have some ideas, I’m not going to tell you what they are.”

  The truth is, I don’t have any ideas. Hadn’t gotten around to that part yet.

  Julian seems to accept my words.

  “Have a good night,” he says before closing the door.

  I breathe out a sigh and then change into his T-shirt. It’s a little big on me, but only a little. I’m not an adorable petite woman who’d be swimming in her boyfriend’s T-shirt.

  Not, of course, that Julian will ever be my boyfriend.

  But tonight I’m wearing his T-shirt, and it smells like laundry detergent with just a hint of him.

  Chapter 7

  Julian

  Usually I let myself sleep in on Saturday mornings. Rather than five o’clock, I get up at six. But since I’m on vacation, I don’t set an alarm.

  I wake up at 6:02.

  And I can’t fall back to sleep.

  Sighing, I head to the gym in my penthouse and do my usual workout. Then I have a shower, make myself some eggs and bacon, and sit at the table with my breakfast and a double espresso. I reach for my phone out of habit, but then I remember that my idiot brother confis
cated my phone and refused to give it back because I didn’t attend last night’s orgy. So instead, I pick up Como agua para chocolate and read another chapter.

  When I look at my watch, it’s eight thirty. My God, Courtney is certainly sleeping in. I can’t remember the last time I slept until eight. I pace back and forth. I want to get on with my day, but I can’t do that until she’s up.

  There’s a knock at my door

  “It’s Vince,” says a muffled voice.

  Great. Just what I need.

  Reluctantly, I let my brother inside. He’s wearing the same clothes as last night, and he looks a little worse for wear. He sprawls out on my couch.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask, my tone of voice making it clear that I am not experiencing any pleasure whatsoever.

  “Just thought I’d pop by and see what you were doing before I went home and slept.”

  “You haven’t gone to bed yet?”

  He shoots me a lazy grin. “Define ‘going to bed.’”

  So he came here straight from the orgy. How lovely.

  “Are you drunk?” I ask. “On drugs?” What sort of drugs do people do at sex parties?

  “Nothing serious you should know about.”

  “It’s probably best I know as little about your life as possible.”

  “Probably true. What did you get up to last night?”

  Oh, shit. Courtney is in the guestroom and could emerge at any minute and meet my wayward brother.

  “Um,” I say. “I went to a coffee shop, then came home and went to bed.”

  He looks at me in horror, his wide eyes a little red. I hope that’s because it’s eight thirty in the morning and he hasn’t gone to bed yet, not because of aforementioned drugs that are “nothing serious.”

  “You,” Vince says, “are no fun at all. You seem a bit twitchy, too.”

  “I’m just fine,” I grind out. “I was enjoying a relaxing morning until you ruined my peace and quiet.”

  “That’s what I do best.”

  “I’m well aware of that. Now, for the hassle of having to put up with you on this beautiful Saturday morning, could you please return my phone?”

  I hold out my hand, and my brother regards it for a moment. Just when I think he’s going to give my phone back, I hear an unwelcome voice. It’s quite a pretty voice, but it’s decidedly unwelcome at this moment.

  “Julian, do you have a hairbrush? Or a comb?”

  Fuck.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Courtney walks into the kitchen. She’s wearing the jeans and T-shirt she wore yesterday, and they’re a touch rumpled. Her hair is sticking up on the left side, but she looks lovely.

  Vince’s eyes practically bug out of his head, and then his lips curve into a smirk. He saunters toward her. “I’m Vince, Julian’s better-looking brother.”

  She’s momentarily caught off guard, but then she says, “I know. I saw the calendar.”

  He laughs. “Did you, now?”

  “Hold on a second,” I say. “What calendar?”

  “The charity one,” Vince says. “At least, I assume that’s what she’s talking about. To my knowledge, it’s the only calendar I’ve appeared in.”

  I frown. “Why don’t I remember this?”

  “I didn’t tell you about it. I figured you wouldn’t approve of me getting half naked for a photoshoot, even if it was for charity. Like you said, it’s probably best you don’t know the details of my life.”

  Dear God. I have a headache.

  “I think you were more than half naked,” Courtney says.

  “Mm,” Vince says. “You’re right.” He turns to me. “You backed out of the orgy, but since you got laid last night, I think you deserve your phone back.” He takes it out of his pocket.

  I’m torn. I really want my phone, but at the same time, I don’t want Vince to have the wrong impression. Yes, it looks like Courtney and I slept together, but we didn’t. Instead, I made her a strange deal.

  In the light of morning, that deal now seems particularly weird.

  Courtney takes the decision out of my hands. “We didn’t sleep together,” she tells my brother. “I understand why you think that, but I assure you, it’s not happening.”

  Admittedly, I’m a bit disappointed she’s so firm about that.

  “Instead,” she continues, “Julian is paying me five thousand dollars to teach him how to enjoy life.”

  My idiot brother laughs his head off. “Dude,” he says to me. “If you wanted to learn to have fun, I would have done it for free. Actually, I did my best to help you yesterday, but you weren’t having any of it.”

  I cannot believe this man once ran a successful tech start-up and worked almost as much as I do.

  “Look,” I say, “I don’t like your particular brand of fun, but maybe my family does have a point. I could use a break from working fourteen-hour days, and I need to learn how to enjoy myself.”

  “Huh. This is the first time you’ve ever admitted I’m a genius.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “More or less.”

  “No...”

  I trail off as Vince turns his attention to my overnight guest.

  “What’s your name?” he asks.

  “Courtney.”

  “And you haven’t actually slept with my brother?”

  “That would be correct.”

  “But to help him learn to enjoy life, it’s necessary for you to stay in his penthouse?”

  “Apparently,” she says. “He’s under the impression he needs ‘serious help’—his words, not mine—so I’m supposed to be around all the time. Except when I’m at work.” Her gaze locks with mine and I swallow hard.

  I really do want her.

  I wonder if she actually thinks Vince is better looking than I am. That’s an awful thought. God, what if he sleeps with her? He seems to sleep with everyone, and now he knows Courtney and I haven’t been together.

  This is a mess. I’m normally pretty good at cleaning up messes, and people depend on me to do just that, but I don’t have much experience with this particular kind of situation.

  “Let me give you some ideas,” Vince says to Courtney. “Get him to smoke pot and send me a video of him while he’s high. Or invite me over. I think my brother might actually be tolerable if he was high.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” she says, “but I don’t do drugs. Other than alcohol and caffeine, that is.”

  “Julian.” Vince shakes his head. “I question your judgment. This is the woman who’s supposed to teach you to have fun?”

  “She’s qualified. Trust me. And even if she tried to get me to smoke up, I would refuse. The only time I did weed—”

  “You’ve done weed before?” Vince puts his hands to his mouth as though this is truly shocking, horrifying news. “Call the press!”

  I glare at him. “It was fifteen years ago, when I was in university. It made me paranoid, which was no fun at all, so I’ve never done it again.”

  He nods and puts his hand to his chin, deep in thought. “The problem might have been the strain. Head to a dispensary and tell them you had issues with paranoia last time. They’ll find you something appropriate.”

  “Vince,” I say through gritted teeth. “Out. I’m supposed to be relaxing, and your presence is not good for my blood pressure.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he says with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Courtney. Keep me updated on his progress, okay? And give him back his phone when you think he deserves it.” He throws her my phone, and I watch in horror as it spins through the air. It’s going to crash any second now and the screen will shatter—

  But Courtney catches it in one hand.

  Impressive.

  Vince heads out the door, and I follow him into the hall.

  “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her,” I hiss.

  He holds up his hands. “Hey, now. You might not have sealed the deal yet, but she’s yours. I understand that.” He ti
lts his head. “A little possessive, are you? How’d you meet her?”

  “At the coffee shop. She was drinking a gingerbread latte like it was the greatest thing on earth. She’s the opposite of you, actually. You crave overstimulation, but she appreciates the small things.”

  A shadow crosses Vince’s face, but it quickly disappears. Perhaps I imagined it.

  “Well,” he says, pressing the elevator button, “if you ever need tips on women, hit me up. I’ll be out on the town, having a good time, though I think I should go home and sleep first.”

  “Yeah, you probably should,” I say before heading back inside.

  I sure hope the day improves from here.

  Chapter 8

  Courtney

  Julian strides purposefully back inside the penthouse, as though he has some very important business to attend to. Two lines appear between his eyebrows and he frowns.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “If I’d known your brother was here, I wouldn’t have come out.”

  “It’s fine. You had no way of knowing.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Unfortunately, Vince will probably inform my parents of your existence, and my family will descend on my home to meet you. They’ll be thrilled.” He does not say this sarcastically. No, he’s serious. “They’re desperate for me to ‘settle down,’ as they call it, even though my life is already pretty settled. My grandmother threatened to bring prospective brides to my office every day if I refused to take time off.”

  I laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” he says. “Well, okay. I guess it’s funny if it’s happening to someone else.”

  I kind of like the idea of meeting his family. Since we’re not actually together, I don’t feel any pressure to get them to fall in love with me. Vince’s visit was entertaining, and I think seeing Julian with the rest of his family could be entertaining, too.

  “I could pretend to be your girlfriend,” I say.

  “Whatever for?”

  “So they stop bugging you about finding a woman. Just for the next two weeks.”

  He shakes his head. “No fake relationships. That’s ridiculous.”

  “I was totally against the idea of fake relationships, too. But then my sister asked my brother’s best friend to pretend to be her boyfriend for a long weekend at a beach house, because she didn’t want to show up by herself when her ex-boyfriend was there and—”