My CEO, My Desire

“We should go to a bar and party.”

I wasn't surprised by my roommate's emphatic statement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential they were. I always have considered it part of its charm. "I'm sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on, Eva.” Cary sat on the floor of our new living room in the middle of half a dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We had undone our suitcases for days, and yet it still looked magnificent. Thin, haired black and green-eyed, Cary was a man who was rarely absolutely stunning, no matter how may be the day of his life. I could have been angry with him if he hadn't been the right person for me. most expensive in the world.

“I’m not talking about a master,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two.

We can

have happy hour and arrive at eight o'clock.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to turn back time.” I gestured to my yoga pants and my fitted workout tank top. "After timing the walk for me go to work, I'm going to go to the gym."

“Walk fast, train faster.” Cary's perfectly executed arched eyebrow made me laugh. I really expected his face to be worth a million dollars one day appear on billboards and in fashion magazines around the world entire. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.

“And tomorrow after work?” I offered as a replacement. "If I succeed in passing the day, it will be worth celebrating."

"Deal. I'm going to the new kitchen for dinner.

"Um..." Cooking was one of Cary's joys, but it wasn't one of his talents.

"Great."

Pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face, he smiled at me. “We have a cuisine that most restaurants would kill for. There's no way to waste a meal in there.

Doubtful, I left with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about the kitchen. Taking the elevator up to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let out into the street with a grand gesture.

As soon as I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and beckoned me

to explore. I wasn't just halfway across the country from my old home in

San

Diego, but apparently on the other side of the world. Two large metropolises, one infinitely temperate and sensually lazy, the other full of life and energy frantic. In my dreams, I imagined living in a walk-up building in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I ended up on the Upper West Side. Without Cary alive with me, I would have been miserably alone in this sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people earned in a year.

The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Tramell. Will you need a taxi this evening ?“No thanks, Paul.” I swayed on the rounded heels of my fitness shoes.

“I’m going to walk.”

He smiled. “It’s been a little quieter since this afternoon. It should be nice. “I was told I should take advantage of the June weather before it gets really hot.”

“Very good advice, Miss Tramell.”

Emerging from under the modern overhang of the glass entrance which corresponded to a somehow given the age of the building and its neighbors, I appreciated the relative quiet of

my tree-lined street before reaching the hustle and bustle of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend in, but for now, I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the position, but I

Always wary of the metro and had difficulty hailing a taxi. I tried not to wander wide-eyed and distracted, but it was difficult. There was so much to see and

experiment.

The sensory input was astonishing: the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed to the food from the vendors' carts, the cries of the street vendors mixed with the music of street artists, the impressive range of faces, styles and accents, the magnificent architectural marvels… And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of

Tight cars were like nothing I had ever seen.

There was always an ambulance, patrol car or fire truck trying to separate the stream of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of sirens at take your breath away. I was impressed by the heavy garbage trucks that were driving around the small one-way streets and by package delivery drivers who braved the traffic bumper to bumper while meeting strict deadlines.

True New Yorkers have been through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as their favorite pair of shoes. They didn't see the steam escaping from the nests- de-hens and sidewalk vents with romantic pleasure and they don't have blinked as the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared past, as I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. . New York was for me a whole new love story. I had starry eyes and it showed.

So I had to really try hard to play it cool as I headed towards the building where I was going to work. As far as my job was concerned, at least I had succeeded. I wanted to win my life based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position.

From the

The next morning, I would be Mark Garrity's assistant at Waters Field & Leaman, one of largest advertising agencies in the United States. My father-in-law, the mega-financier

Richard Stanton, had been annoyed when I accepted this position, pointing out that if I had been less proud, I could have worked for one of his friends and reaped the rewards of this connection.

“You’re as stubborn as your father,” he said. "It will take forever to pay back

your student loans on a cop's salary."

It had been a major struggle, and my father didn't want to back down.

“Damn, if another

man could pay for my daughter's education," Victor Reyes said when Stanton told him had made the offer. I respected that. I suspected that Stanton did too, although he wouldn't admit it

Never. I understood the point of view of both men, because I myself had fought for repay the loans…and I had lost. It was a source of pride for my father. My mother had refused to marry her, but he never gave up his determination to be my father every possible way.Knowing there was no point getting upset over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I had deliberately chose to make this short trip during a busy time on a Monday. So I was delighted to reach the Crossfire building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes.

I tilted my head back and followed the line of the building to the thin ribbon of sky.