“And now Ina is telling me it was all fake. That it was just the campaign getting out of hand. She said there was nothing to worry about because none of it was real.”
I closed my eyes. “She’s trying to protect herself.”
“From what?”
“From me. From this situation. Her dignity.” I stopped, the words catching in my throat. “She overheard me saying things I didn’t mean. Things I said to try to protect her, to get Keith to back off, but she thinks I meant them.”
“What kind of things?”
“That my feelings were strictly professional. I told Keith the relationship was fake. I gave him my usual spiel that love isn’t real.” I felt sick saying the words again. “Keith was threatening to go to you and the board. I panicked. I thought if I could convince him nothing was happening, I could buy us time to figure things out properly.”
“Instead, you convinced Ina you don’t actually care about her.”
“Yes. I didn’t know she was there.”
“Where?”
I grimaced because I was definitely digging a deeper hole for myself. “My penthouse.”
Norma was quiet for a long moment, then sighed and finally sat down. She drummed her fingers on her desk and appeared to be deep in thought. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’m aware.”
“A brilliant businessman. A visionary CEO. Absolutely exceptional at everything you do.” She fixed me with a look. “Except this. You’re terrible at this. Shame on you.”
“I know.”
“Of all the women in the world, what would possess you to go after your assistant?”
I grimaced because I was pretty sure the answer was obvious. Ina was gorgeous. And she was forbidden. Combine the two and it was like the human equivalent of catnip. I might be a big-time CEO, but I was still just a man.
“So what is it a bit of fun or are you in love with her?”
“I think I might be in love with her.” I sighed. “Or it was heading that way at least.”
“And you thought the best way to handle that was to say the exact opposite of how you actually feel?” She shook her head. “How have you made it this far in life, with common sense like that?”
The truth hurt. A lot. I was glad Norma was being straight with me, but it was still bitter medicine.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I said, acknowledging how lame that sounded.
“It may be the worst idea you’ve ever had, and I’ve watched you make some questionable decisions over the years.” She pulled up something on her computer. “I have to take this to the board. You know that, right?”
“What? No. Norma, I told you because you run HR. You can make this work. There has to be a way to work within the rules.”
“You’re the CEO of this company. You admitted to me this morning that you’ve been in a relationship with a subordinate. That’s a board-level issue. I don’t have a choice.”
My brows furrowed. “I own this company.”
“You own a majority stake in a public company.” She said it gently but firmly. “Which means you have a board of directors who have a fiduciary responsibility to shareholders. And if that board decides you’ve created a liability—if they decide your personal life is affecting your judgment or creating risk for the company—they can vote to remove you.”
The words hit me like cold water. I hadn’t actually considered the cost of falling in love with my assistant. “They can’t do that. This is mine. My ideas. My tech. My intellectual property.”
“They can. You know they can. You wrote those bylaws yourself when the company went public.” She softened slightly. “I’m not saying they will. I’m saying you need to prepare for a fight. And you need to be ready to grovel, because this isn’t going to be easy.”
“I don’t care about the board.” I stopped, because that wasn’t entirely true. I cared about Cupid’s Arrow. I’d built it from nothing. It was everything I had worked for. Losing it would be devastating. I would be fine in a money sense. I had more than enough for several lifetimes, but it was my pride and joy. It was my entire life.
But it wasn’t worth losing Ina.
