6 CEO of Devils

What was I supposed to write about this?

We were seated in the conference room of another rich business tycoon much like Jordan himself— Mr. Andrews. I knew I had to observe him in action but I wouldn't call an occasional nod as a saucy detail to add to the write-up.

Jordan was seated opposite to me on that round table along with a few more of his associates. Lounging back and forth, he played with a pen in his hand. He didn't speak even once during the entire session except a few infrequent 'hmms' and head nods.

He was clearly wasting my time and if given the chance, I would have stabbed him right on spot.

Being irresistibly attractive and sexy does not necessarily mean a person is certified to waste the time of others.

While a large man stood in front of the big screen facing the table and explained his plan to the people seated in the room, I counted the seconds in my head. There was absolutely nothing about this meeting that I could use.

I stifled a yawn as I tried to focus on what was being said. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jordan's eyes were on me. I shifted a little and saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Bloody bastard.

Finally, when the meeting came to an end, Jordan said, "The deal is on."

"Wow. That is something I definitely should include in my notes." I mumbled to myself feeling irked.

After a few more necessary dialogues were exchanged, Jordan led the way out. Suppressing my urges to knock him on the head with my laptop, I followed him out of the room and then down to his car.

"That's all for today," he said as I slipped into the seat next to him.

"Why did you do that?" I blurted.

"Sorry?" he asked in a voice so deep that I felt the hair on my arms rise.

"Are you trying to get back at me for what I did in the morning?"

"So you think after getting slapped across the face I'd get back at you by boring you to death?" he asked. "And put on your seat belt," he added as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.

"So you knew it was a waste of time for me!"

"You said you have to follow me everywhere—"

"That's not what it means. You did literally nothing but sit and nod and waste my time. I don't know what I write about that." I mumbled and turned my head to the view outside the window.

Manhattan was as busy as ever. Huge skyscrapers, hundreds of people walking around, and the usual traffic surrounded us as we halted at a red light.

"I have bought your time with me. I shall use it as I please," he said and I jerked my neck to face him, almost giving myself a sprain.

I glared. "You have not bought my time. I am writing this magazine for you which will help YOU and YOUR BUSINESS. You're lucky that The Spectator is even interested in this."

"I suppose you're not doing the writing out of the goodness of your heart, huh?" he tilted his head in my direction and gave me a cheeky grin. "I'm sure you're getting your cut from what I am paying to your company for this magazine."

"That doesn't mean—"

"I'm bored talking about this. Let's change the subject. Where do you live?" he asked as he swerved right and slowed down at the side of the road.

"What?" I scowled, unable to keep up with him.

"I'll drop you home," he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

A few hours ago this man wanted to fire me and now he wants to drop me home. I am all sorts of lost right now.

"Are you... are you bipolar or something?" I asked.

Jordan evaded my stare as he pressed the buttons on his phone screen.

"I ask you a simple question and you can't answer that," he looked at me, "are you sure you understand what human interactions are?"

"What?" I blurted again.

"Well," Jordan shifted in his seat and turned towards me, "you essentially ask questions to other people to get to know them and—"

"I know what you mean!" I cried out.

He lifted one shoulder, "Didn't seem like it but okay." He moved his attention to the device in his hand as it beeped.

Sliding it back into his pocket, he started the engine again.

"Let's go to Brooklyn then," he said pulling the car on the road.

I frowned, "How did you—"

"Call me clairvoyant," he smirked.

The nerve of this jerk!

"Mr. Parker, please stop the car," I said sounding dead serious to even my ears.

"I can drop you home."

"I can go by myself," I argued.

"I'm dropping you home, Rose. No further discussions."

"Mr—" I started but before I could say more words Jordan leaned forward and turned up the sound on the radio, and my words got lost in the tunes of the loud music.

Fucking hell.

What the hell was happening here?

The Weeknd blasted through Jordan's Jaguar as we drove the rest of the way in silence. I tried to tune out the music as much as I could and kept my eyes fixed to the traffic outside.

It was almost dawn, the sun was more orange than golden and the shadows it cast on the rest of us mere beings got darker.

I reflected on the day that just went by.

I had no words to describe it.

Jordan Parker was just how I had imagined he would be but also, nothing like it. He had the looks that would leave a trail of girls behind him and I, too, was attracted to that aspect of his personality. More than I care to admit.

But the rest of his personality is what had me in knots. I couldn't quite make sense of what happened earlier today and how Jordan went from being an angry asshole to a cocky son of a bitch.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes, turning my head a little in his direction so that it doesn't appear as if I'm directly looking at him. I noticed his jaw was shut tight as he focused on the road ahead of him. The blazer that he had on during the meeting was now lying on the backseat of his car and the sleeves on his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows.

I could also see the blue web of veins standing out on his forearm as he steadied his grip on the steering wheel, closing his slender fingers around it. My eyes travelled up to his face and settled on the perfectly chiseled jawline. I wondered if I touched him there would it bite into my skin. His nose was bony and long, just how I liked, and his emerald green eyes... were now staring at me.

My eyes widened as I noticed Jordan looking in my direction.

"Are you checking me out, Rose?" he smirked and I felt my ears burn.

I looked the other way, hiding the rising color in my cheeks. I ran my fingers through my hair and brought them on my face, shielding Jordan's view to my red cheekbones.

"I wasn't," I said curtly.

I heard him chuckle and sank deeper into my seat.

After a few more minutes of dreadful noise, Jordan pulled up outside my apartment building. As he killed the ignition, the air around us went dead silent. I could hear a loud ringing in my ears courtesy of the radio that was blaring throughout the entire ride here.

I quickly unbuckled the seatbelt and grabbed my bag which was resting on my lap. Clearing my throat I turned to face Jordan, "Thanks for the ride home, Mr. Parker."

"Thanks for the lovely imprint on my cheek, Rose," he said, a cynical smile forming on his lips.

I inhaled a sharp breath, a remark biting against my tongue, wanting to escape from my pursed lips. I suppressed the urge to do so and slid out of his car, banging the door close as I did.

"Hey, it's not a Prius," he barked and restarted the engine and closed the automatic window.

Without another glance at him, I turned around and started walking away, mentally cursing the day I decided to spend the golden days of my life with the CEO of devils.