Free Mr. CEO by Willow Winters Page A

and I try to keep a positive vibe around me. I don’t want my negativity rubbing off on her.
    “You know, this could turn out to be pretty good,” she tells me as she steps into my small office. It’s really small and with her in the doorway, it already feels cramped.
    She has a stack of papers in her hand and a smile on her face. “I heard we’re going to be getting raises, and the new company is going to be bringing in an influx of clients.” She leans against the wall, making herself comfortable. “Hastings is so excited about this. He told me there’s going to be huge opportunities for us.”
    “I’ll believe it when it happens,” I say skeptically.
    “Pessimist,” Eva teases. She begins to walk out of the room, but then stops. “Hey, you know what? I just looked up our new boss on my phone. He’s fucking crazy hot. Like seriously, I don’t even know how he’s a CEO of a company and not out modeling somewhere.”
    Probably not as hot as Logan, I think to myself.
    “Let me see,” I say. I almost want to tell her about Logan… I wanna brag, but I shouldn’t. A one-night stand doesn’t color anyone in a pretty light.
    “You’re gonna totally flip,” Eva warns me. She walks over to my desk and sets her papers down and then pulls her cell out the pocket of her chic-as-fuck pantsuit. I eye it with a hint of jealousy as she brings up the picture. “Say hello to our new boss. Or as I’d like to say, BILF.” She takes out her phone and brandishes it my face, grinning with absolutely glee. “See? Isn’t he the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen?”
    My heart nearly stops at the grinning face staring back at me. Eva stares at me, waiting for me to react, but I can’t speak. Not a single. Fucking. Word.
    Oh my God . It’s him.

Chapter 12
Logan
    I lean back on the bench. It’s nearly six thirty and I need to leave. I’m anxious to leave, in fact. I haven’t been this damn excited for work in years.
    The crisp morning air whips across my freshly shaven face. It feels refreshing as I take a deep inhale and listen to the wind. The soft, relaxing sounds are interrupted by my father’s low, gruff voice. Bringing me back to the present.
    “How was the conference?” he asks me. His voice is a bit muffled. It’s not the strong tone I grew up with. His stroke left him paralyzed down his entire left side.
    I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and look up at him. He’s on the opposite bench. I’m facing the the stone wall of the back of the nursing home and he’s overlooking the woods behind me. “Productive. I knew it would be.”
    He nods his head and looks behind me. The daylight is just rising through the trees behind the nursing home. It’s private and the gardens are comforting for my father. Or so he says.
    “So you settled on which of the two?” he asks. Although the stroke left him physically impaired, he’s mentally the same man he's always been, and I do my best to include him. Although I don’t have to. But it gives him something to do that’s useful. His life used to revolve around work. It was all he had. Growing up, I barely ever saw him and when I did, he made sure I knew I was being groomed to take over the business.
    We didn’t have father-son time. We had business training. At times I resented him. I hated watching my mother lose interest in the two of us. She looked at me as though it was my fault that he spent every waking moment in his office. I don’t remember a time that she looked at me with love. She hated that I was just like him. Even though I had no choice, that didn’t matter to her.
    “Armcorp.”
    His brow furrows and he pats his right hand against his leg. I can tell he’s not happy with the decision.
    “Fairmont would have been better,” he says simply. He hasn’t been happy with many of my decisions over the last seven years. Each year I’ve branched further and further away from his counsel.
    “I wanted this one.” I tell him the truth,