The CEO and Her Driver

Chapter 33

Royal Fashion glared down at me in the form of a garish neon sign at the top of the building. I had never met Laurence Royal before. But his shotty craftsmanship and bland ideas were legendary in my line of work. He had money to buy anything and everything he wanted, and recently I had become a new potential shiny toy he wanted to play with. So no, I hadn't met him, but his fingerprints had been all over my life for months. Something I was itching to fix.

I pressed my nails into my palms, instantly bringing an image of Tate to mind. His hands pulling at my fingers to keep me from hurting my palms. Kill Laurence now, try to figure out what to do about Tate after you hide the body.

Taking a deep breath, I walked through the front door, shoving both glass doors open wide with flair, making my entrance into enemy territory clear and wonderfully dramatic. I cast a long shadow across the floor, making me feel powerful and menacing. Accessing villainess mode.

I had come close to storming in before, but this time I had no baseball bat, and unfortunately, no torch to set the building on fire with. Gliding past the lobby secretary without a word, I made a beeline for the elevator, my jacket flapping out behind me like a cape. Look out, the evil rival fashionista has arrived!

Wearing what I liked to think was my signature 'go to war' color— RED, I sported a red pantsuit. I finished it off with a black blouse, and a pair of black pumps, enjoying the scary clack of my heels on the marble floors as I moved.

The sound echoed across the cold lobby, creating a dangerous rhythm that warned everyone around me to get out of my way.

"Excuse me!" The lobby secretary shouted as I sped towards the elevator, not bothering to ask for directions. I wouldn't be stopped by a glorified threshold guardian dressed in a green daisy sundress.

I expected to find Laurence Royal on the top floor and didn't want him to have a chance to prepare for my arrival. He never gave me a chance to process his moves. It was only fair that I reward his horrendous behavior with the same treatment.

"You can't just—"

I walked into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor, enjoying the sound of the secretary's panic being cut off by the closing elevator doors.

Once alone, I allowed myself to deflate slightly. Relieved that for a beat I didn't have to pretend to be underwhelmed by the garish lobby, or the fact that the building had more than two floors. Or the fact that Royal Fashion even had a lobby secretary... or a lobby. My empire suddenly felt very small. Small but mighty Allie. Never forget that.

As was the apparent theme, the elevator music sounded too fancy, too loud, too much, and by the time it reached the top floor, I was ready to hurl from the cotton candy sweet tones and my bundle of angry nerves.

But that was quickly forgotten as I walked right into Laurence's office and discovered that the entire floor was an office with a three hundred and sixty-degree view that looked out onto the Los Angles skyline through floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

Everything was decorated in dark oak and leather that smelled like musk and whisky. A classic man cave, turned office. Almost like I had stumbled into a Gentlemen's Only Club where men sat with cigars and mumbled about the stock market and wives spending all their profits.

I spotted a tall man at the far end of the room, sporting a deep blue suit. His back was to me as he stared out the window, most likely pretending to survey a kingdom that wasn't his to rule. You're not Mufasa dude. Quit being so dramatic.

"I take it by the message I just got from a very panicked secretary that this must be the famous Allie Winters," he said, still staring out at the view.