The CEO and Fate✔️

Chapter 11

Snuggled into the many blankets I kept in my penthouse, I felt physically better. Being back home, dressed out of my pantsuit, relieved of the heavy weight of a lap top, and spared of the endless cuts the business papers gave me, I finally could relax.

It was Sunday. Rest day. The calm before the storm.

As the coordinator promised, the incident blew over for mostly everybody. With my medicine working it's way through my sickened limbs, I was able to give the closing speech without another hitch. Even with the words of a certain gray-eyed CEO still thumping through my brain, my lips at least managed to form the words of the speech Zane and I had practiced hundreds of times. With the right blazer and tone of voice, I delivered the closing remarks on behalf of Matteo and was assured by a standing ovation.

But that wasn't the end of the story. Though everybody else at the conference either didn't know about my mistake or had chosen to ignore it, Zane had blown up my phone for hours until he finally finished his tirade with the very simple text of We will talk Monday.

Scary, no doubt, but I decided to be grateful to have my Sunday in peace before I was given the lecture of a lifetime.

And understanding how precious this gift was, I knew not to waste it.

Armed with a the Xbox controller for the gaming system I begged my superintendent to help my set up, I had seasoned 7 of Game of Thrones locked and loaded. Popcorn by my side and a long bendy straw to help my reach my drink, I was ready.

In fact, I was pleasantly surprised just how smoothly the evening went thereafter. I was on episode 6 before I heard a single sound that reminded my that civilization existed outside of my television.

It was a knock at the door.

Barely awakened from my trance, I glanced my bleary eyes over at the clock. 7 at night. I hadn't even noticed the sun go down. When was the last time I had eaten? Had I gone to the bathroom today?

The knock resumed, reminding me of a bigger priority.

Reluctantly I dragged myself off of the couch and over to the door. Without another thought given to my disheveled appearance, I opened it.

It was Skylar.

And seeing her dressed flawlessly in her athleisure made me wonder if I had brushed my hair after getting home from the conference.

"Hey," she said nervously. "You busy?"

Internally, I said goodbye to my hopes of watching the season finale.

"No not at all," I answered, running my hands futilely through my head. "What's up?"

She stepped inside. "Well, I was hoping we could talk about Friday. I'm really wanting to apologize for not reaching out sooner. It was only after I dropped you off that I realized I didn't have your number, and I hate myself for letting you think all weekend than maybe some pervert took you home and now knows where you live and might be planning to set up cameras in your hallway or something and-"

I cut her off. "Skylar," I laughed. "My friend Gretchen, the warm coffee skinned girl you met? She texted me and told me what happened. I know that you helped me home."