The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 57

“Oh, I don’t know. I reckon I could charm Miss. Ander … OWWW.” Daniel squawks like an injured animal as Jake’s shoulder punch is applied with a lot more force. “Calm your pants, Jake. God! You’ll be pissing on me next.” He huffs and swipes his beer from the table casting his friend an angry frown.

“Don’t tempt me.” Jake’s joke seems drier than humor and he swipes his own beer. Both men throwing a snarky look at one another, before taking what looks like a precision planned swigs of their drinks.

“Jeez, testosterone flying, much?” Leila interjects, pulling some of the tension away with a heavy sigh.

“Men!” I offer as in way of answer, and we both raise eyebrows at one another in agreement, NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

“Needless to say, I was right!” Leila grins triumphantly.

“About what?” Marissa cuts in with a pinched tone that makes us both flick towards her with cool indulgence. She’s sprawled at the table with full cleavage on show, right in Jake’s eyeline. Miracle is picking her nails at the right of her, in a similar pose completely bored.

Ughhh.

“That Jake would be enamored with her short new do … That she would look sexy as hell!” Leila’s triumphant tone earns her a roll of the eyes from Marissa and a bitch snarl.

“Jake’s a man. He appreciates it when women try really hard to get a reaction from him,” she drolls icily with a flick of her hair. Jake and her exchange instant harsh glares while I simmer, holding my tongue.

“You would know.” Leila’s scathing comment comes with a new tone for her. Disdain. Major attitude. I glance over at her and catch sight of the twins moving uneasily in their chairs as they lift their drinks to focus on that instead. Miracle lifts her head in interest, eyes gleaming with the possibility of drama.

“Emma doesn’t need to vie for my attention, she already has it, and her hair is a knockout. Much like her.” Jake cuts in smoothly, his cold gaze fixed on Marissa, and everyone hushes up, eyes averting and a lot of fidgeting. Leila smirks.

“Man did it just get cold in here?” Daniel jumps up from his perch on the edge of the table and slaps Jake on the back.

“We need a new topic and way more booze, man.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Jake relaxes back, leaning to peck me on the cheek softly before he turns to gesture a waiter. I get that inward surge of smugness to match Leila’s. He cut Marissa down easily and made a show with a kiss. My champion.

* * *

Having Jake keeping the conversation light and funny helps a lot being he’s a great socializer. He knows how to keep the chatter flowing, he’s attentive and quick witted and draws everyone in, even the dreaded Marissa. All previous tension forgotten as we all return to happy.

He revels in company and I can imagine what he was like in his teens, hanging out with friends. I wish I’d met him then and seen what adolescent Jake was like. I imagine he wouldn’t be very different, only younger, maybe with a less powerful physique, less stubble. I doubt he would have liked teenage Emma, though. Not his type at all.

The cocktails come regularly and soon I’m warm and floaty, I’ve even managed to carry out a coherent conversation with Leila and Richard, despite the swaying; we’ve talked books and movies and the more time I spend with this girl, the more I like her.

Jake watches us and smiles, a hint of affection in his eyes. He likes that I like Leila, I guess. For him, I realize, it’s a first as he’s never seen me warm to women, in general, especially not around him. He

must think I don’t like my own gender.

Marissa watches me coolly from the other side of the table, flanked by Miracle, who looks bored, both only talking when the men direct conversation their way. I get the impression they don’t like Leila, me, or each other.

Suits me fine. I don’t like her in the slightest, or the hawk eye way she watches Jake’s every move.

Jake hauls me up to dance when the band comes out and it’s then I’m fully aware of how drunk I am. I’m giggling as I try to dance with him and there’s a lot of him holding me up, keeping me from falling into other people. He’s laughing and picks me up several times to place me back on my wedge sandals, persevering with my atrocious dance partnering. Flirty Jake is back now he’s relaxed with way too much alcohol.

“Your moves are terrible when you’re plastered, shorty.” He spins me around, catching me from the back and pulls me in against him. Our hips swaying in time and his firm arms around me snugly. It’s sexy yet still safe. Cuddling, yet in tune to music.

“Shhhh. I’m doing just fine.” I slur playfully.

“Sure, you are. The second I let go, you’ll face palm the deck. I’m all that’s keeping you upright,” he laughs softly.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t … You’re exaggerating my drunkenness.” I purr demurely, turning in his arms and giving him a gentle chest shove in jest.

“Let me go and see.”

Jake lifts his hands with a shrug, and a mocking smile, and steps back. That look of “know it all” all over his face so I attempt a dance sway and stumble dramatically.

Crap.

His quick reflexes mean he catches me before I kiss ground and he chuckles at me instead. Hauling me back to that chiseled chest and hard abdomen to “cuddle”.

“You were saying?” he raises a brow.

“Shut up.” I warn, leaning back to throw a threatening finger his way. Pointing ridiculously at his nose.

“Not another word, Carrero.” I slur.

He motions the locking of a key over his lips, and pretends to throw it away, before casting me a wink and then he pulls me back in for another slow groove. Another bout of my terrible balancing act against his body.

After another song, he gives up on us dancing and leads me back with a grin while I throw that warning look and almost challenge him to mention my drunkenness again. He just laughs, tugging me by the hand and pulls me in, so he can lasso me instead.

Back at the table, Jake practically carrying me with the arm around my waist; the men are in the middle of some heated story. Daniel is sitting up on the back of the chair with his feet up on the seat. They’re laughing and joking about something mid-conversation when we approach, and don’t stop to acknowledge us at all. Jake slides his hand from around my middle and throws it casually around my shoulders instead, as we stand to listen. Resting on me like it’s the most normal thing in the world as though we snuggle a lot.

He hands me my drink from the table, before taking his beer and turning his full attention to the men. All on their feet now and crowded by one side of the table; Leila is resting in the crook of Richard’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly.

I can’t help but stare at Jake’s profile as he listens intently, of all the men here, he’s by far the best looking and most sexually appealing of the group. In fact, the whole restaurant.

I need to stop thinking this way. Bad alcohol, bad!

“Yeah, so Jake’s like, I’m sure we can make it … and he goes speeding off on his fucking jet ski, right in … Doesn’t give a fuck.” They all burst out laughing and look toward him as Daniel pats his back. I can’t focus on anything except the way Marissa is watching him. She’s zoned in on his every feature, biting her lip sensually, and trying to seduce him with her eyes. My internal mood churning into irritation as my chest tightens.

What the hell? Whore. So shameless!

It’s obvious she’s a lot more drunk now than she was prior to our going to the dance floor. He seems to be avoiding her gaze, but every so often I catch them connect and he flicks away. I feel him physically tense every time through our joint postures, and it alarms me on so many levels.

I want to know what’s going on, if these looks mean anything, if it’s just irritation on his part or if he has reason to be mad at her. Earlier, I got the distinct impression that he didn’t much like her. But now?

Vincent, her man of the moment, seems oblivious. I resign myself to the fact I’m imagining it, that he’s merely willing her to stop eye raping him. I’m being paranoid and stupidly jealous, even though I have no right, but it still causes me to watch them a little too closely. Nerves piqued.

“What choice did I have?” Jake cuts in. Oblivious.

“Daniel would have had us sleep out there at that rate, not that he would have minded. Daniel’s always trying to get in the sack with me, the boy’s still trying to deny his feelings.” He jests and swigs at his beer, throwing Daniel a wink.