The CEO'S Sugar Baby

Chapter 5

5

Janet's POV

My head snapped up and our eyes met. My heart stops as I see the malevolence and intense derision in her eyes. I had no doubts she would do as she said. That she was itching to do just that.

I took a deep shuddering breath as I lowered my head, not willing to engage in a staring contest with her.

Nervously, I turn the envelope in my palms. Somewhere in me, I still wanted to say no. I wanted to throw it back in her face and declare my undying love for her son, just like I've always imagined.

But I thought of the news headline and shook my head in self mockery. I would only be making a fool of myself if I do that.

So I nodded, a little too stiffly, a little too obediently for my liking. I felt humiliated, like I was selling my heart for money. But I had no choice than to swallow the humiliation, and that only made it more painful.

I turned the envelope over in my palms, my head still lowered as I studied the smooth, blank surface. And I wondered where it all went wrong.

I had been the best girlfriend anyone could wish for. I had bent over backwards to please Drake. And what did I get in return?

An engagement to another woman from him, a demotion to a secret mistress. And now, a threat from his mother and grandfather.

I couldn't help feeling like I was a pawn in their game, a canoe out in the raging ocean, tossed around on the whims of the ocean.

Self anger welled up in me as I thought of this. My long gone courage awakened by the anger, I looked up and locked eyes with Mrs Hoffman for a few seconds.

She looked shocked by my effrontery, but I didn't care. Turning, I locked eyes with his grandfather the same way.

When I spoke, it was in a clear voice. I had to make sure they heard every word clearly. That they picked up the emotion under each word, which would be no emotion.

“This is the best deal I've ever made in my life,” I said slowly, clearly. “I'm happy to leave that stuck up son of yours. I just pity poor Miss Greene. She just doesn't know what she's getting into.”

Turning my back on their shocked faces with some measure of satisfaction and exhilaration, I turned and walked out of the van.

_____

When I got back to my mother's private room, Ruth was waiting anxiously. I noted that she had already cleaned up my mother, as well as the mess I made on the floor.

I was grateful for that, because right now, I wasn't in the mood to work.

“Hey, those guys looked pretty buffed up. Who are they?” Ruth asked as I walked past her.

But I didn't answer. Silently, I picked my handbag and walked out of the room. Behind me, I heard Ruth calling, worry in her voice, but I could barely hear her.

I was struggling to draw in enough breath. Something seemed to be squeezing my heart, each beat seemed strained. And my throat was tight, each draw of breath a painful struggle.

I managed to hold on till I got into my Monza before the damage broke. I pressed my head against the steering wheel and let the tears fall. The painful heaving of my chest was nothing compared to the emotional pain I was feeling.

After everything, I had become what the media labeled me: a good digger. I just collected close to a billion dollars to leave Drake Hoffman, and I said it was a good deal.

Like a f*****g gold digger!

I don't know how long I was there, staring blankly at my brake pedals, before my phone buzzed.

Reluctantly, I picked it, expecting to see Drake's usual message: where are you?

Instead, I saw a message from my team's group chat. My former team, rather, since I haven't worked as a designer in Drake's company for a long while now.

But for some reason, they left me in their group. I thought of the look Brylee had shot me when Drake picked me to go to Atlanta with him two years ago, even though I was the only girl in the department that hadn't clamored for it.

She had always been jealous. I was almost sure that I was still in the group just so I could keep seeing the insults and shades she never tired of throwing at me.

Which was why I almost never read the group's messages.

But now, as message after message dropped in, one caught my eyes. I quickly opened the chat and stared at the particular message.

[Good job everyone. Who wants to go have some fun?]

Fun.

It has been a long time since I had any fun. I was always so busy attending Drake. Always following him to meetings, or business dinners. When he was out of the country without me, he didn't allow me to mingle with my former colleagues.

Just then, another message popped in.

[The team's hanging out for drinks. Wanna come?]

It was from Mira, another of my colleagues. She was a bright haired intern, just like I was, and my best friend while I was in the department.

But we kind of drifted apart after I became Drake's personal assistant. Not that it was her fault.

I scrolled up our chats, seeing all the other places she's invited me to hang out, and my responses too. Always ‘too busy’, ‘not in the state’, ‘Drake wants me somewhere’, blah blah blah.

Pressing my lips together, I sent her ‘yes’. She quickly sent me the location and time, plus a heart emoji.

There was still an hour before the hang out and I wondered what to do. As if on cue, Drake called me. I let the phone ring, then put it on silent and shoved it into my handbag.

_____

The look on my former colleague’s face as I walked towards their table was one of shock and surprise.

Marge, ever the dramatic one, rubbed her eyes vigorously and stared at me.

“No way I'm seeing things. I've only had one glass!” she muttered loud enough for me to hear.

Brylee glared at me, then looked at the person next to her. “Is that the stuck up b***h, everyone-is-beneath-me —”

But the guy put a finger across her lips to shut her up.

“Take a seat, Janet,” someone said.

Mira pulled out a seat from under the table and I sat down gratefully. I looked around the table nervously, wondering how they would take my being there.

But apart from Brylee, everyone else took it pretty well, as if nothing unusual had happened. The guy beside me poured me a drink.

Gradually, minute by minute, my tense shoulders loosened up as I completely relaxed.

Some time during the evening, someone had brought up the news about Drake's engagement. Maybe it was the drink, but I soon found myself pouring out my heart to the group.

“He never appreciates a single thing!” I whined, memories of all the times he's only given me a cold nod after hours of hard work flashing through my mind.

“Yeah, yeah. Don't we all know that!” Someone agreed.

We were already a little tipsy, and my comment was all we needed to shift the conversation to our boss. Soon, everyone had said, at least, one bad thing about him.

I found myself taking pleasure in their castigations of him.

Suddenly, I became aware of my phone ringing. I glanced at it and my heart skipped a beat.

Twenty missed calls. All from Drake. Plus a message.

[Remember the meeting with Mr Greene]

All at once, I remembered I was supposed to be at his house by six. But then, I remembered I was leaving him soon. There was no need for me to keep pandering to him. I scoffed and silenced the ring.

I was about to drop my phone on the table when I noticed that everyone was strangely silent. A strange kind of tension hung in the air.

They all seemed to be looking behind me. I looked behind me, and my heart almost stopped dead cold.

Standing behind me was Drake, phone in hand, fury on his face. Locking eyes with me, he brought up his phone and pressed something.

Behind me, I heard my phone start ringing.

“Care to explain this?” Drake asked, his voice so cold one could almost see it slicing through the air heavy with tension.