The CEOs Possession

“Are the lights dancing?” Veil’s speech sounded slurry, and she thought she was going to topple right off the chair. She couldn’t remember how many shots she had had, and Orleans wasn’t really keeping count either.

“You’re just drunk, Veil,” Orleans chuckled, his shoulders moving along with the sound. He felt the tension of the week leave his bones, and he relaxed on one hand, leaning on the table.

“No,” Veil shook her head. “Can’t you see it? The lights are … they are hopping now? Is it salsa? Maybe ballet.”

“You sound so convincing that if I didn’t know better, I would have believed you immediately,” Orleans said. “Should we try something fun?”

“What are you thinking?” Veil grinned at him. “Another … round of shots? I’m sure … I can down it … without the lime. Wanna see it?”

“We should take a drive around town,” Orleans suggested, his eyes sparkling. “My car is a convertible, so we can feel the wind on our faces. We could add music to it and belt it out loudly into the night. What’s your favorite song?”

Veil thought about it for a minute. “Broken by Isak Danielson. It’s so beautiful.”

“We should definitely listen to that tonight.” Jumping out of the booth, Orleans pulled Veil with him and rushed out into the night. The waiter who had served them earlier watched with wide eyes and jittery legs, confusion cloaking his mind.

Although he knew that Orleans usually had a good grip on his liquor, he was obviously a little tipsy, and shouldn’t be driving in that state. Veil, on the other hand, was totally drunk, and wouldn’t even know if she was being driven off a cliff.

When the waiter spoke to the manager, he toyed with the idea of calling his mother but knew how that would end. Orleans hated being reported to her and might take it out on them if they did.

Outside, Orleans and Veil were leaning on the boulder, waiting for the valet to bring his car around. They laughed about the lights in the skies, and how stars and satellites tended to look alike.

“These are satellites,” Veil maintained, her eyes barely open as she squinted into the skies. “Stars don’t appear that way.”

Orleans knew she was right, and he was amazed by her mind. Most of the women he dated in LA only cared about lip fillers, and full make-up, never giving a thought to expanding their knowledge.

He missed what it felt like to hold a conversation with someone real – someone who really didn’t care what you thought about them.

The car arrived, and the valet stepped out of the way, allowing Orleans to get in while he went around to get the other door for Veil. She smiled at him in appreciation, and he reached out at once to hold her when she swayed on her feet.

“I’m fine,” Veil muttered, pushing him slightly away. “I’m not a granny.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the valet responded at once, allowing her in. Once settled, they moved into the night, with Orleans hitting a button that caused the roof to open up.

“Now, you’re showing off,” Veil laughed, throwing her head back in a carefree fashion. “Mr. Roderiguez…”

Veil stopped and shook her head. “No. Anders has a convertible too, but now that I think about it, I don’t think I have ever seen him drive with the roof open. He is so proper at times, and at other times, he acts so wild like he is a totally different person. He wants me to call him Anders. Can you believe it?”

Veil belched noisily and the both of them burst into fits of laughter.

“Why does your mean boss want you to refer to him by his name?” Orleans was still conscious of his speech and in control of his motor skills.

Shrugging, Veil put her legs over the dashboard. “He scowls at me when I call him Mr. Rodriguez. I think it has something to do with Simon.”

“Who is Simon again?” Although Orleans asked with a light chuckle, he was groaning inside. He already hated the fact that he had to deal with Anders just to get to Veil. Now, apparently, there was also someone called Simon.

“Simon is…” Veil swallowed and closed her eyes. “You said we were going to play ‘Broken’,” she whined suddenly. “Why don’t I hear it?”

“Okay.” Orleans laughed at her innocence as he searched for the song on his Apple Music, nodding in satisfaction when he found it.

The alluring voice of Isak filled the car, and in seconds, Veil was singing along, holding her hand to her chest like she was going through a heartbreak.

“You are broken on the floor, and you’re crying, crying,” Veil belted so emotionally that Orleans couldn’t stop staring. “He has done this all before, but you’re lying, lying…”

Orleans didn’t know the song, but he hummed the melody along with Veil as he drove at the highest speed.

“Do you want to know what I think of your boss?” Orleans asked suddenly as the song came to an end.

“What?”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Orleans muttered, sober. “Come work for me. I promise to pay you more, and not stress you one bit.”

Veil bit her lips and suddenly went quiet for a minute. “It’s …”

“You don’t have to give me a response now,” Orleans cut in quickly. “Think about it. I’ll wait for as long as you want.”

Veil oddly felt that Orleans was talking about something else, but she shook her head. “Anders made me his personal secretary for a reason,” she explained without restraint. “I admit I don’t know why, but I’m going to find out. And when I do, I’ll know if it’s worth staying for.”

Even though she was drunk, Veil imagined going to work somewhere else that wasn’t Kingston Group, and it just didn’t feel right. Regardless of everything that had been happening, she didn’t think she could leave.

Orleans was about to say something, but his mouth closed shut when loud sirens suddenly blasted into the air. He knew what was going on before he heard it.

“Pull over!” the voice from the speakers commanded.

“Shit!” Orleans muttered. Tonight was going to be a long one.