Her CEO - Flora Ferrari Page 0,21

to the board. The amount of materials purchased versus the amount of waste after sales. It’s probably the one major report I’ve never seen an audit for from most departments, especially the hospitality ones.”

His look tells me I need more convincing.

“In time, you’ll learn to delegate, Alyson,” he says calmly, putting his huge hand over mine.

“Hard work isn’t always about doing everything yourself, and all those people who do the running around? They get paid well to do it.”

It does make me feel better, but not much.

“That cake for example, from last night,” he continues. “Say what was left over, what we didn’t eat times that by a hundred thousand, or even a million. That’s how much you might’ve just saved Chambers Inc. It’s something we have to look into, as well as how we manage waste. It’s common sense, not just big business.”

I feel my heart swell with pride, with love for him again. He’s such a great man, and open to everything.

“Your ideas, your observations are going to be critical. I’m going to have your paperwork drawn up today, too. Make everything official,” he says, sounding more like a boss but softening his tone as he registers my own look.

“It’s alright, Alyson. There’s a ‘you can screw the boss’ clause in there somewhere, I’ll make sure of it,” he says winking, and I’m left unsure if he’s kidding or not.

With Eric Chambers, anything’s possible.

“I do most things remotely, even from the restaurant, Alyson,” he says, and spends a few minutes showing me how he sends memos to various departments, getting major things done without having to be anywhere he doesn’t want to be.

“Hiring and firing,” he muses, his voice getting low again. “I thought I could leave that up to others, but since yesterday, almost losing you before I even got you all to myself? That’s an area we need to focus on, big time.”

Eric relays his version of events, and I flush hard as he tells me how close it came to me walking out and never being a part of his life.

“It meant that much?” I ask him, trying not to sound emotional.

“It means everything to me, Alyson,” he says intensely, “ you are everything to me.”

I feel his hand over mine again, and he squeezes it hard.

“I don’t know how my day would’ve gone if you hadn’t come down to get me,” I murmur.

His face falls for a moment, he looks ashen.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says firmly and with a shake of his head, he’s dismissed the alternate universe where we never met and we both gaze into each other’s eyes, so happy that we’re in the right place now.

Me and Eric.

Eric and me.

Always.

Chapter Sixteen

Eric

The first memo I send involves the purchase order for her building. I want all available property at the address to be in her name, keeping her apartment hers and guaranteeing her neighbors have a good landlord as well as something of her own to start with from day one.

She’s gonna go far in this life, but a little nudge with some equity behind it never hurt anybody either.

The building I grew up in, right down the street from her, it was one of the first things I bought myself. I leveled it, making up for the impact it had on me, but I hope Alyson’s place holds fonder memories for her. I hope it reminds her of how we met, where we first kissed.

“I gotta go to the little boys room,” I let her know, scanning the last of my memos as I put my phone away, standing up. “You alright here for a minute?”

She nods, biting her lip as her eyes stray to bulge the in my pants.

“I think you mean the big boy’s room,” she purrs, and I feel my dick thicken, my heart racing again at the sight of her getting off on looking at me.

“Dammit woman,” I say. “I just need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

Smiling to each other before I turn to go, I notice Timothy Sloane at the other end of the restaurant, quickly hiding his face with a menu as his eyes almost meet mine.

I glance at my watch, it is lunch. But Sloane at Angelo’s? On his salary, and the restaurant booked solid for months?

I file it away for further consideration, noting the blond at the same table, whose face I can’t see but whose hair looks familiar.

I pause at the bar, making sure the barman keeps