CEO'S CONTRACT NOT TO LOVE

Jared

Ugh, another setup from Mom. Seriously, does she have a factory for these "perfect matches"? They all seem the same, just different faces. All ready to settle down, like they're programmed for it. But not me, nope. I'm not ready to commit to that suburban life just yet.

I'm not against settling down eventually, just not on Mom's schedule. I've got time to find the right person. Or maybe just the right person for now.

So here I am, in the sweltering city heat, dodging tourists like they're obstacles in a race. And then there's this date, looming like a dark cloud over my already busy life.

I've got only a few minutes before I'm outta here, back to my normal routine, back to freedom.

Then I hear a voice in the crowded coffee shop. "Mr. Morgan."

I turn to see her, and I have to admit, Mom's done well this time. She's tall, confident, with something intriguing in her eyes. Definitely not the typical setup.

She reaches out her hand, and I shake it, checking her out. She's got long legs, killer heels, and that skirt... wow. Finally, I look at her face, and she's even more captivating.

But here's the thing: I can't figure her out. Usually, these dates are pretty obvious, but not with her. It's like trying to solve a puzzle blindfolded.

Alright, Mom, you win this round. Let's see where this goes.

Her hair is dark brown with caramel highlights, and the loose curls stop just above her shoulders. I'm so mesmerized by her that I don't even realize I'm standing here staring until she clears her throat and looks down at her hand, still waiting for me to shake it.

Oh, right. I should probably shake her hand.

I put my hand in hers, surprised by how firm it feels. She doesn't seem nervous at all. Her skin is soft, not sweaty. Her nails are neatly done, and I recognize the smell of Chanel perfume. She clearly takes good care of herself, just like my mom's type.

"I'm Jared, actually," I correct her. "We don't have to be so formal."

"I'm Aubrey," she says with a quick nod. "Nice to meet you, Jared."

"Same, Aubrey." Aubrey Aubrey Aubrey.

The name runs across my tongue. I have never wanted to bed a woman that my mother has chosen, but right now, I'm thinking of nothing but what Aubrey has underneath that satin tank top of hers.

I'm a bachelor for a reason, and I have no interest in settling down, but I still have needs. And although this woman is tempting enough to take home, I won't let my mother have the satisfaction of knowing that she won. She chose this girl for a reason, so there must be something wrong with her.

I sit down across from her at the tiny table, watching as she pulls a folder from a briefcase sitting beside her chair. She rifles through the papers and clicks her tongue as if she forgot something. "Can you remind me what your company's net worth is again? I had the report, but I may have left it at—"

"Ah," I chuckle, everything clicking into place, "you did your research I see."

She arches a perfectly penciled eyebrow up. "Should I not have?"

I shrug. "To each their own. My company's net worth is four billion. Is that good enough for you?"

Rule number two: be just enough of a dick that they make up their own conclusion about me.

"I've seen better, but it'll do," she says simply.

What?

Is this a frequent thing she does? Get pulled into going on dates with billionaires?

She's trying to throw me off and prove herself to be the best choice. I can't tell for certain, but I have a strong suspicion that she's lying. If she really went on more than one date with a billionaire, why the hell didn't she close the deal?

I glance at my watch. Two o'clock. I have to get back to the office.

"Let's just cut to the chase," I say just as the waitress approaches us. I tell her it won't be necessary and watch as she heads for another table in the back. "Do you want kids? Marriage? I won't be able to offer you any of it."

Aubrey blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Before she says, "I—what?"

"I don't do relationships. I'm not interested in whatever my mother attempted to rope you into, so I apologize that she wasted your time."

Aubrey sits back more in her seat, and where the others may have had a trembling lip at this point, she is smiling. Then she laughs, and I despise how it goes directly to my core. The attractiveness of the floaty, musical sound is like a gut punch. I don't do relationships... but maybe she doesn't either.

I clear my throat. "Um, if you're looking for a good time, I could take you home right now and show you pleasure you haven’t felt before

"Mr. Morgan, stop right there," she snaps, sitting up straight. "I'm not here for a date. I'm the CEO of a big marketing firm. Your company asked for my help with re-branding. I'm not interested in your money. I'm here to help you, not the other way around."

I'm completely confused. How did I mess this up? I'm usually very organized. Wasn't this meeting supposed to be tomorrow? Did Irene, my assistant, get the date wrong?

"Anyway," she continues, "since you've been disrespectful, I might just take your money out of spite. Stewart Media Entertainment could benefit your company, but it's up to you."

I can't even speak. I just nod as she slides her business card across the table. "I'll contact you," she says sweetly.

------------------------------

"Fix it," Irene snaps, slamming a business card on my desk, her green eyes flashing with anger. "I can't believe you messed up this badly”.

If it were anyone else talking to me like this, they'd be fired. But Irene's been my friend since high school, and she's been invaluable to the company.

"You're an idiot," Irene huffs, finishing her rant.

"Okay, okay," I say, wincing at her sharp tone.

She sighs and tucks a piece of her black hair behind her ear. "Email her. Now. Apologize."

I roll my eyes. "Technically, you're my secretary, not my boss."

She gives me a look. "Please. You'd be lost without me. Email her."

So I send her an apology email, explaining the mix-up and asking to meet up for me to apologize properly.

I know I messed up today. I shouldn't have said what I did. But if she had just taken me up on that offer we would have hailed a cab right from that coffee shop. On the drive I would have brushed my fingers against hers, giving her just a taste of the touch I'd be giving her as soon as we made it back to my condo

A ding from my computer interrupts my thoughts. I try to adjust myself discreetly, sighing at her reply on the screen.

“While an explanation is unnecessary, I will agree to meet only so that I can go over my plans for Morgan Enterprises, as there is much to discuss. Just to clarify, this will be a business meeting, correct?” She replies with a hint of sarcasm

Is that humor I'm detecting? I don't know her well enough to continue the sarcasm, and I'm also disliking the fact that I wish I did.

AUBREY STEWART POV

After a draining day at work, I collapse onto my bed, my thoughts consumed by my recent breakup. My ex-boyfriend, who used to be my assistant before being promoted to running the AD campaigns broke off our engagement to choose someone else, he knew I couldn't fire him. It'd be a lawsuit waiting to happen. A part of me wonders if he just used me the entire time to move up in my company, only to throw me to the side the second he got the position he wanted.

And I'm not sure if I'll be able to trust anyone ever again because of it.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates on the sink, an email from Jared Morgan.

“Despite our conversation this afternoon, I assure you that I'm not working with you for any other reason except to gain your help and insight. The meeting this time will be one hundred percent professional. You have my word. Where do you suggest we meet?”

“Oh now he seem professional” I muttered quietly

Well, it's good to know at least that Jared isn't interested. Not that I'm worried that I'll give in, but...if I've learned anything, it's best to keep things between clients and employees strictly professional.

I reply, informing him that my assistant will contact him in the morning and then dozed off.

-----------------------

The morning after, I had my assistant arrange for Jared to meet at my office. After our last encounter, I wasn't keen on another coffee shop setting. I prefer informal settings for most of my meetings, but for Jared Morgan, the more formal, the better.

He arrived on time as promised. My assistant informed me of his arrival, so I grabbed the materials and headed to the main lobby.

I tell myself I'm wearing a nice dress for self-care, not because Jared Morgan is visiting. However, his offer from our last encounter lingers in my mind. “However, if you're looking for a good time, I could take you home right now and show you pleasure you haven’t felt before” Jared’s word echoed in my mind and I bit my lips

No, I won't stoop that low. Besides, he made that offer before knowing we'd work together. Surely it doesn't stand anymore.

Not that I want it to.

He gracefully settles into the leather chair opposite my desk, taking in the downtown view through the floor-to-ceiling window behind me. I curse myself for choosing this place; the tension between us feels like it could fill a football stadium. Just realizing that all that separates us is my desk has me feeling hot and bothered.

Is it my time of the month? Why am I so turned on? Did someone crank up the heat? It's not like me to feel like this, especially around a client. I haven't felt like this since...

I push away the memories and focus on Jared again.

"Do you mind if I take off my jacket?" he asks.

"Sure, go ahead. Is it too warm in here? I can ask Alexa to adjust the air conditioning."

"Actually, it's quite warm," he admits.

He hangs his jacket on the chair, revealing his muscular arms straining against his white dress shirt. I can't help but notice how fit he is,

Looking at him, I had lost all sense of rational thought staring at this man when he is a client. I need to focus.

Jared looks at the desk, then me, then the desk again.

“Focus”

“Focus”

“Focus” I screamed at myself internally

After two hours of going through projects, Jared's earlier serious mood shifts into a flirtatious demeanor. Despite my efforts, I find myself drawn to him. He suggests ordering lunch, and we eat Chinese while avoiding getting sauce on the papers.

"So, what do you think?" I ask, gesturing to the papers.

"I think it's more than I asked for," he replies. "In a good way. I'd be a fool not to hire you."

A smug grin spreads across my face. "Did I really have a choice after our disastrous first meeting?"

My smile fades as regret creeps in. Despite yesterday, Jared's been professional today. Yet, occasional looks he sends my way seem to undress me on the spot. Annoyingly, I'm not sure if I want those looks to stop.

"I didn't mean to threaten you," I explain. "I just don't like when men act like they're here to save me. I don't need that. When you brought up marriage and kids, it bothered me. There's more to women than that. Not that they're not important, but so are goals and aspirations."

"And normally I wouldn't come right out and ask about that kind of stuff, but see—" He sighs, running a hand through his gelled hair. That damn piece flops onto his forehead again. "Since the beginning of the year, my mother has been obsessed with trying to find me someone to marry, and I'm not ready for that yet. Not in the least bit. She refuses to hear my side about it though and sets me up with these blind dates once every two weeks. I got the date mixed up, and I thought you were one of those blind dates.

"The women my mother chooses are the furthest from my type, and I try to do everything in my power to never see them again so I—"

"Act like a dick," I finish.

"Yes, and had my secretary given me your name a few days ago when she set the meeting up between us, maybe then I wouldn't have been so confused. She told me that you were the best marketing manager on the East Coast. That's it."

"She's not wrong," I admit, "but all is forgiven, Mr. Morgan. Mistakes happen, and it's not my business what goes on outside of our meetings."

His eyes meet with mine, an ocean blue attempting to stare right into the depths of my soul as he glances down to the desk again, then back to me. "I think we can be on a first-name basis now, don't you? Or would that make you uncomfortable?"

I gulp loudly as he slides his jacket back on, the serpentine now hidden. "I think first names are fine. I'll email the logos over to you after my meetings are finished today."

"Good," he says with that famous, sly grin of his, "I look forward to that email, Aubrey."