The CEO's Abused Cover Girl

Ch. 3: Stressed

(Sean’s POV)

“Mmm, what is it baby?” Rochelle practically purred as she wrapped herself around me while taking a sip of the very expensive champagne she’d ordered for us. This was her idea of a late-night snack. Caviar and champagne. She was still wrapped in her sheet as I sat on the edge of the bed getting dressed, thinking about how the s*x hadn’t been good enough to warrant caviar or champagne nevertheless both. And on my dime, no less.

Oh Rochelle liked her pretty things, she did. And as my personal assistant, she was paid quite well enough to get those pretty things with her own money. But as we're in Paris on business, she's charged everything as a business expense. This little habit of hers was something that had only recently come to light. Which means I’ve not said anything to her yet because I’ve got someone investigating just how far back this goes.

“Nothing. It’s late. I’ve got work to get done”. I said as I slipped cuff-links in my pocket and reached for my jacket.

Rochelle and I have been keeping company this way for about a year now. Lately, she’s been dropping hints of wanting more. But I’ve told her many times now that that’s just not going to happen. I've got no interest in getting married or having kids. Besides, all these women ever want is my gold card anyway. Rochelle's no different.

She wants more, but she doesn’t actually love me. She just loves my money and status. Normally, she’s a pretty d*mn good tumble. But tonight? She just wasn’t doing it for me. I think I’ve just grown bored with her. I have for months now, but didn’t wanna admit it because she’s such a good assistant.

“Baby, leave the work. It’ll still be there in the morning. Come back to bed and let me help with some of that tension”. She purrs and that sultry tone of hers that once would’ve been impossible to say no too. “Sorry, but I can’t. I need to be prepared for this meeting tomorrow. The company won’t run itself, you know.”

I leaned over and placed a small kiss on her forehead. She, of course, pouts because she’s still hoping I’ll change my mind even though she knows I won’t. “I’ll see you in the morning”. I told her before leaving her room.

As I clicked the door closed behind me, I waited a second, smirking when I heard her let out an angry shout. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to upset her. But that sound just confirms my suspicions about our ‘personal life’ and the fact that she's trying to manipulate me into something.

One of her newest tactics is to tell me she’s on the pill, so I don’t need to wrap it up anymore. I see how frustrated she is when I wrap it up anyway. She thinks if she can manage to get pregnant I’ll fold.

Again, not happening.

Which is why I keep my c*ndoms on my person at all times now too. If it doesn’t come out of my pocket, it doesn’t go on my ‘love rocket’. End of story.

All I know is this is shaping up to be a long trip. We’re supposed to be here for ten days doing a charity ball and a convention. The ball is the last place I wanna have to be, but it’s being thrown by one of my mother’s friends, so I have to be there. The only upside to it is that she’ll be there too.

I haven’t seen my mother in a few months. We talk regularly on the phone, but I haven’t been able to get away for a while now. Something's been upsetting her lately, but she won’t tell me what. So hopefully we can get some time to talk, the day of the ball. Until then, I’ve got this speech to fine-tune for the conference and a sh*t-ton of paperwork to get too. So playtime's going to be the last thing on my mind now.

I walked into my room, rolling up my sleeves as I dropped my jacket on a chair. Going over to the bar, I poured myself a glass of red wine and picked up my laptop from the coffee table as I strode into the bedroom to get changed. Sitting it all on my nightstand, I went into the ensuite and hopped into the shower, letting all my current woes go sliding down the drain as the hot water relaxed me, even if only for that short time.

After my quick shower was over, I let my woes come creeping back as I dried off and wrapped a towel around my hips, then went into the other room to drag on a pair of pajama bottoms. These were a gift from my mother for my birthday. There’s a matching top, but I rarely use it. I prefer to go either shirtless or only use a tank.

So once I was more comfortable, I went over and crawled onto the bed, then grabbed my laptop and got to work. I'd no sooner opened my first email when my phone buzzed with a text and I picked it up just to be sure it wasn’t anything important. When I see it’s from Rochelle, I roll my eyes and put the phone back down.

This was another thing about her lately. When I first hired her for this position, she was always very professional. Work took priority. If I was working, so was she. But lately she’s been blowing off work more and more.

Plus, on Friday, right before we were set to leave, Brian from HR pulled me aside and very hesitantly told me he was getting complaints about Rochelle. He handed me a file and couldn’t stop apologizing.

I guess he thought he would get in some sort of trouble for bringing it to my attention, but I just thanked him and let him get back to his job. I slipped the folder into my desk drawer and, since we were already running late, I never got the chance to look at it. I know it can’t be good by the way he was acting, but it’s gonna have to wait till I get back.

Hopefully it won’t be anything too bad. But I guess we’ll see.

As for me? I just got back to work, trying to sort through far too many emails which had me wondering where my secretary was. She normally sorts these things out for me. I guess I’ll call the office in the morning and see how things are going. It’s not like I can leave Paris, so I hope I won’t be going back to a mess.

*****

“What do you mean, she quit? When?” I asked in complete shock. “This morning, Sean. I’m sorry. She called and said she wouldn’t be returning after her maternity leave was up. But Amanda tells me her temp is doing really well. I can extend her an offer, or I can post it to the job-board. Whichever you prefer.”

For gods’ sake. I can’t believe she just quit like that. “What about Eileen? I can’t get through to her.” I’d been frustrated with my inability to get through to my secretary this morning, so I called the head of Human Resources to find out what the h*ll was going on.

“Oh, Eileen. You didn’t know? She got hit by a car the other day. She’s fine, but she’s in the hospital recovering. Broken leg and hip. They’re saying they’re going to have to replace the hip so she’ll be there for a while. I’ve asked Cindy to take over her duties for now and Amanda is filling in for Cindy. We’ve got a call in for another temp to fill in for Amanda until we sort this all out.”

Janet sounded just about how I felt too. I’m heartbroken that Eileen is going through something like that. She’s a good person and a great secretary.

“Dear god. I’m glad she’s going to be alright. I’ll get in touch with Cindy, then. Thanks, Janet. As for the job offer, let's give it a little time. Keep her on for now till we see if she works out alright. By the end of the week, if Amanda is still saying she’s doing well, then we’ll talk about making her an offer. Until then, let's just leave things as they are to avoid any more confusion.”

More confusion was the last thing I needed right now. “Sure thing, boss. Stay safe. See you soon”. She said in a cheerful tone as she hung up, and I immediately dialed the office again now that it’s past nine in the morning there. Eileen always came in early to put coffee on and go through the emails, so when eight o’clock rolled around, I called. And, of course, I didn’t get an answer.

By eight-thirty, I was dialing Janet’s number. Now I’m back to dialing Eileen’s desk and, sure enough, Cindy answers, “O’Dell Modeling, how can I help you?”

“Cindy? How are you with taking over for Eileen? Do you need any help?” I heard Cindy giggle a little on the other end of the line before saying, “I’m okay, boss. I was just surprised when Janet called me last night and asked me to do it. Poor Eileen. I hope they catch the b*stard.”

Cindy was talking about the fact that the person who hit her left the scene. “Me too! But I wanted to check with you and see if you know what needs to be done there. Do you have time to go over a few things?”

“Sure, boss. Whatever you need”. She said, and I heard her rustling some papers which I presume were to take notes on. “Good, so…”

We spent the next twenty or so minutes going over the routine. I got her set up to be able to access the emails so she could start sorting through them and I also gave her permission to get some help getting things caught up. She said her mother, Amanda, would be able to help her if needed, so that was good.

Once that was done, I spent the next few hours making phone calls, one of which was to a florist so I could send Eileen something to cheer her up, another was to the local police to be sure they were taking this seriously. I’ll call her tonight and see how she’s feeling for myself.

This is shaping up to be a trying two weeks. I just hope everything starts to even out soon.