Ceo my little

that's what my grandfather says. She used to be loving and caring, and she also had a dream. She dreamed of leaving her hometown and living big with the boy she loved. Well, this boy went on to live his dream without her, leaving her pregnant and alone. My mother didn't handle it well. She drank and tried to find love in all the wrong places. She loved the bottle more than I did and drowned not only in the alcohol but in the water when she drove her crashed car over the bridge and into the creek.

Our town was small, but the landscape was so vast that no one found it until the next morning, cold and dead. I was four years old and I remember waking up alone and freezing in our trailer. Somehow I arrived at my grandfather's trailer, which was half a mile from ours, barefoot and hungry. I didn't mourn my mother. I didn't even know her, she was just the woman who said she loved me, but she never showed it to me. Here I was, seven years later, and everything I left behind was catching up to me. Good thing I was fantastic at running away from my problems, except it was kind of hard to run in Jimmy Choo heels. Being so used to the city lights and the constant comings and goings of people, I forgot how things worked in a small town. There was no taxi service after ten. But it wasn't like I wanted anyone to see me. Here I was walking to my grandfather's trailer and dragging my Louis V, not caring that the leather was damaged. All these materialistic things that proved I was no longer trailer trash were just dead weight. I dropped my shoes halfway to my grandfather. My blistered feet were probably bleeding, and I couldn't help but think that this was the best karma, giving me the fate I had so desperately tried to ward off. Why don't I have a car? Oh yes, because Ashton took care of me. He provided everything, ensuring I wanted for nothing. The penthouse was his. I helped clean up and paid some bills. I nodded, not wanting to think about all the things he liked to take care of. If there was a silver lining to this mess, it would be my fat bank account. Damn, Ashton. I couldn't think about him without bile rising in my throat. I let him sweep me off my feet for a lie. He was supposed to scare me into walking alone in the dark, but this was familiar, a little too familiar. The smell of pine was as comforting as it was suffocating, reminding me of better things left in the past. The country roads were just as I remembered them, lonely, dark and beautiful. The tall green trees and pines added a touch of magic to the city while the darkness served as a cloak. I didn't need to be seen yet. I stopped and looked at the water as I passed the bridge where my mother drowned. "Was it worth wasting yourself in alcohol? Was it worth losing everything running away from your demons?" There was no answer, and there never would be. I never understood my mother. How could a woman who named her daughter Freya after the Norse goddess of love care so little about herself? My feet were blistered, my luggage unpacked when I arrived at the faded old trailer. I was barely holding it in. History was repeating itself. I was lost and heartbroken when I arrived here when I was four. Now, at twenty-five, I could say the same. I was in a blanket of darkness with nothing but stars to shine upon me when my grandfather opened the door. "Welcome home, my sweet girl." And for the first time since leaving San Francisco, I cried because the 'perfect' life I had built for myself turned out to be a lie. Chapter Two Freya Fifteen years old God, I was freezing. That's what happened when I heard Rusty and ran away in the middle of the night so we could go to a bonfire. We never got to the bonfire because Rusty's truck broke down. The truck was as old as my grandpa's Chevy, and that was saying something since grandpa's Chevy was a dinosaur. Still, Rusty liked to boast that his truck had personality, and if by personality he wanted him to get laid since the back of his truck saw more ass than Heavenly, the stripper club that was a few miles away. , so yes, your truck was bursting with personality. Still, Rusty and I were best friends. We grew up together, both of us being only children. Our grandparents had been friends since the Vietnam War. At one point, Rusty's grandmother hoped we'd get married and have kids, the whole thing, but that would never happen. Not because I didn't find Rusty attractive, he was very handsome, shaggy brown hair, warm eyes, soft gazes, but underneath it all was the player persona. We were always fighting, getting on each other's nerves every two days. More importantly, it would never work because we were practically brothers. "You know what, Rusty? I go home. This truck won't start today, maybe not even tomorrow. Rest in peace, Bow." I patted the old truck as Rusty looked at me. Bow was short for Rainbow since the truck was so faded and had 1 different colored parts. Bow also represented 'bed on wheels' you know, because the truck had personality. "You know what, Gabs? Your negativity is really hurting your feelings. Just watch, the one-day Bow is going to be a classic, and you're going to beg me to take you places so you can be seen in beauty like this." I rolled my eyes. It wasn't likely, but I wouldn't insult him anymore then. Sometimes Rusty can get so impatient and dramatic. It was better to let him have the last word than to argue with him about nonsense. Since I wasn't really going to abandon Rusty, I went and sat down on the cold grass. We were stuck on country roads, and people rarely came that way, it was the trees and darkness that scared some people. For others, it was the old bridge. Some swore they had seen my mother's ghost nearby. This was funny, since the only unfinished business the woman left behind was a bottle of Jack hidden under the sink, because she sure didn't remember me. 1 bed on wheels in English "Your grandfather will kill me if he finds out I escaped with you," said Rusty, bending over Bow's hood. "You're probably right." I didn't do anything to try to convince you otherwise. It wasn't Grandpa who hated Rusty, he just didn't trust him since he found out he could make a girl leave her panties with nice words and his smile, and the fact that Rusty was a freshman and I was a freshman didn't have my grandpa jumping. of joy. I would be so dead if I didn't get home and go back inside. "Man, I think I'm starting to get cold. My fingers are cold and look blue." "That's just stupid moonshine," he replied. Just when I was going to give up and leave him alone so I could go home, not caring about my grandfather's disappointment or his punishment, the lights blinded me, making my stomach drop. I held my breath, afraid it was another faded truck, but thank God it wasn't my grandfather. It was an old Mercedes, but just because it was old didn't mean it didn't look new. I knew this car. Everyone knew that car. It was one of the Mr. Dunnetts. My stomach sank. This was not good. Most Dunnetts were petty and selfish. There was Prescott, the oldest Dunnett. He was currently a veteran, prostitute and certified. Then Maxmilian, who was junior, sporty and a bit nerdy. Her sister, Juliet, was in second year and her friends didn't like me. This will be interesting. Rusty seemed to have come to the same conclusion as me, standing protectively in front of me as the car stopped right in front of us, blinding us to who was behind the wheel. "Do you guys need an

sure that would change as he got older. Like his mother, he had red hair and eyes like moss. Maximilian wore super soft clothes, all jeans and nice sweaters. He looked expensive, but the fantastic thing about him was that he was humble, or at least I thought he was. He wasn't shy, but he was quiet. The words gentleman, total class and beloved were used around the town whenever Maximilian Dunnett was mentioned. He was the town's golden boy, while I was the wild orphan child. Someone like him would never notice someone like me. Trust me, I wasn't feeling sorry for myself. It was a fact.

I was used to it. My motto in life: sticks and stones. He smiled at us, all perfect white teeth, and I found myself smiling back at him. There was something mesmerizing about his smile. There was a sincerity and innocence to him that was hard to ignore. "I think I'll pass on this kiss, Russell. Although, if the pretty girl wants to give it to me, then I can go along with it." Oh my God. First, he called Rusty by his name, all right, and it was cute as hell, and second, he just called me pretty. I knew I wasn't ugly. All brown hair and big brown eyes, I I looked pretty similar, but most of the time, guys made me feel cheap. Now, the way Max called me pretty made me feel like I was more, not just the daughter of the town's drunk whore. "That might be it. be arranged, if you can get me home before I get cold." I noticed Rusty's shoulders tense, not liking my flirtatious tone. It was his fault we got stuck. I may or may not have frostbite, and I don't care. I don't mind kissing Max Dunnett. Rusty can fuck off. Max looked me straight in the eyes. It was the first time we'd had a real conversation. "It's a mere seven degrees and there's barely any wind, you won't be freezing anytime soon. If it were January at zero degrees with winds at ten miles per hour, so I'd say it would take about thirty minutes for your fingers to turn black." I grimaced at the images he presented. He was a little dorky, but very charming and sweet. I gave him a big opening for a kiss that I really wanted to have with him, but he didn't mention it again. I was a little upset? Totally. Still, I couldn't deny the warmth it brought to my heart. Most guys made lewd comments to me on a daily basis. It was refreshing not to be seen as a whore just because my mother was one." I told you, but no, you have to be a drama queen." Rusty, being the typical oblivious jerk that he was, hit me on the head like I was a puppy. He had done this many times before, but he never did this in front of Max. Now the whole image I tried to project has been destroyed. Can you say freshman asshole? Here, here. "Max, can you give Gabby a ride home and then come back and help me put this baby back on?" back on the road?" Rusty ran his hand affectionately over Bow. Meanwhile, I tried not to beam. Okay, so maybe Rusty doesn't mean to leave me alone with Max, but I'm back to calling him an idiot. Snapping out of my moment of shyness, I grabbed Max's arm and led him to his vintage black 1957 Mercedes Benz. The only reason I knew the model of the car was because of Rusty, who, unlike me , it was all about cars. "You give me this ride, and I'll give you a kiss." I smiled at him, trying not to laugh at his slightly horrified face. I had said I was a little intimidating. Just a little. Also strong-willed, stubborn and tall would be applicable. Oh, and we can't forget talkative, that's the main thing. My grandfather always said I could get out of any situation. I could make a killing selling books to blind people. "Gabby, right?" Max asked after he opened the passenger door, leading me into his car. No one has ever opened a door for me. It was a little old fashioned. "No, my name is Freya. Rust says I talk a lot, so he calls me Gabby, you know, chatting too much." I ran my hand along the soft leather of the seat as I watched him walk to the driver's side. Max was nothing like what I thought he would be. The car may have been as old as the truck, but it was in good shape. I looked in the side mirror, and Rusty was already a small speck in the darkness. "Like the Norse goddess of love?" Max broke the silence. "You're really smart, aren't you?" Few people knew that if they weren't into all the nerdy mythology, my bad Greek mythology. I felt a little bad when her cheeks turned pink, but mostly I thought it was adorable. "Yes, just like the goddess of love, 2 Gabbing too much – which would be because she talks too much but between the two of us, I guess I was lucky since dear mother could have called me Dionysus." I wasn't kidding since my mom loved her bottle, but it was nice to hear Maximilian laugh. "You are mixing your mythologies. Norse is Scandinavian. Then there's your Greek and Roman mythology, where Aphrodite and Venus are essentially the same as Freya." "When you put it like that, I guess my name isn't so bad," I said in all honesty. Can you imagine having Aphrodite for a name? Like what would your nickname be? Ap? Afro. I think Mom could have done a lot worse. "A pretty name for a pretty girl," he said with a smile. I was about to respond with some of my A-list sarcasm because he made everything easier, but when I looked out the window, we were already in my trailer. "Oh shit," I grumbled, because outside in his rocking chair was my grandfather. "Just leave me right here. I'll walk the rest of the way," I insisted in a meek voice. "I wouldn't do that. It's dark and late. Besides, your grandfather would think less of me if I left you on the side of the road instead of your front door." I laughed. He made it all sound so good. First of all, our trailer was small. It wasn't a long walk from the dirt path to the front door. Second, my grandfather was in his rocking chair with a gun nearby. "I hope you lived a good life. Just know that under your chair is your shotgun." I hit his shoulders without thinking. Damn, did I just touch Max Dunnett's 'golden boy'? He didn't seem to mind though. "Stay here," Max broke the silence, his tone calm. I couldn't decide if he was just as affected as I was. I saw him get out of the car, taking long strides until he was at my side. Full movement of Maxmilian, the good old boy next door. Was it old-fashioned? Totally, but also so hot. When he He gave me his hand, I smiled at him, my belly sinking into the warmth he was giving off. Knowing Grandpa was watching, I let go of his hand and walked beside him. "Good evening, sir," greeted Max. Meanwhile, I prayed he wouldn't take his shotgun to Max. "It's past midnight," Grandpa grumbled. "Max was just giving me a ride back. Rusty and I never went anywhere. Bow collapsed on top of us," I said defensively as a way of trying to explain. Grandpa laughed, then took a sip of his beer. "Guess it's karma for you, girl." Well, that was embarrassing. Nothing like being scolded by your tutor in front of a cute guy. I turned to Max and made a smile. "Thank you, but I think you'd better leave. I'm home safe and everything." Panicking, I pushed him back, but he didn't move. Instead, he reached out to shake my grandfather's hand. "Maximilian Dunnett." It wasn't like the Grandpa didn't know who he was. Everyone knew the Dunnetts. "Careful, lots of potholes on the country roads. Don't want this beautiful car to get stuck." I looked at my grandfather. Would it kill him to be nice? He didn't even shake Max's hand. This was surreal. No boy wanted to be seen with me except Rusty, but he didn't count. And now the only boy who didn't look at me like I was trash was here

shouldn't have been surprised that I was already I never let go of my Midwestern roots. In California, I was an early riser, before the sun, but I guess a part of me never left the house. My room looked exactly the same as the night I left, containing a single bed that was hell to sleep in now that I was used to a king size bed, a small table that I used as a desk, and a tiny closet that didn't even fit. a third of my belongings now.

Damn, where am I going to put all my stuff? Victor was supposed to send my stuff to me, it was the least he could do by not letting me know I was sleeping with Mr. I'm-a-badass-to-have-my-dick-dropped. Thank God my test came back clean. I'd probably be arrested for murder if I'd come back with anything. I sucked up my pain and made Grandpa eat breakfast. It was the least I could do after showing up here unannounced. "You were always an early riser. Even as a kid, you didn't know the meaning of sleeping in on the weekends." My throat clogged as I looked at the only father I'd ever known. Last night, it was hard to see through my tears, but now, in the light of day, it was clear that I had failed him. The money I sent him every week was not what he needed. He needed me. I used to look at him. He was as tall as a mountain, at least to me. He was my everything. I swallowed the lump of guilt as I looked at him. Wrinkled and older, he no longer seemed so strong and invincible. When I left, he was tall. Now he was a little hunched over, and his hair was completely white, but the smile he gave me was the same one he always had just for me. "Well, what can you expect when you wake me up at the crack of dawn by making a ruckus. I'm a light sleeper. I am just the product of your creation." He walked to the table as I placed the plate in front of him. "You are not eating?" "I need coffee first. Then I can start my morning." He shook his head but ate from the plate. When I left San Francisco, I had no idea what I was going to do. I just knew I couldn't be in a town where I was being made fun of behind my back. It was funny how I came home to where I had been looked down upon all my life. Initially, I hoped this could be a stop on the way to my next big dream, but looking at my grandfather, I knew I couldn't leave him. Not again. I was stuck here for now, and the idea terrified me, because the longer I stayed here, the more real the chance of finding him became. You can't hide in a small town. It might take a few days, but by the end of the week, you've always run to everyone. Sunny Pines was a small town. We were somewhere between Port Wing and Superior. There was only highway 13, the rest were small town roads. Unless I planned on hiding in this trailer, which sounded appealing, I was going to see some faces I never thought I'd see again. I needed coffee, and this was just the beginning of the things I was going to need. Then it occurred to me, hell, maybe he didn't even live here anymore. Maybe he left this town and was much better off in life than I was. He deserved it. He deserved everything. It would be easy to ask Grandpa what happened to him, but it would be better if I never spoke of him again. The damn guilt of what I did to him was going to kill me before the week was over, I just knew it. "Aren't you going to ask?" I asked when I couldn't take it anymore. My grandfather acted like we had breakfast together every morning. Like I didn't get up and leave him in the middle of the night without saying goodbye. "I thought you would tell me when you were ready. Or we don't have to talk about it." I was slamming my hands on the old wooden table since I didn't have a coffee to drink. "So, is it like this? I come home and it's like nothing happened?" "You're home safe and sound, that's all I care about." Grandpa shrugged and continued eating. I cleaned up after him, and when he said he was going into town, I decided I needed to go head on too. It was already noon and I didn't have an ounce of caffeine in me, and that was a sin. Should I be worried that Grandpa didn't like coffee who didn't love coffee? I was surprised that his old red truck still worked. So many memories in that truck. I didn't like it, but my grandfather taught me how to drive when I was fifteen, giving me my first taste of independence. "So what's new in town?" I asked as I looked out the window, watching the green grass blowing in the wind. I bet I was a vision, brown hair, wearing a navy blue pantsuit with a white silk blouse and black shoes sitting inside a truck that was so rusty it was a miracle the wind didn't destroy it. Grandpa made a face when I left the trailer, but didn't say anything. I wasn't the girl who grew up here, the one who had wild hair and wore combat boots and tight jeans like it was her religion. I was no longer the girl the town called trailer trash. "You know people here don't like change very much. There's a hippie cafe that's been open for two years." I rolled my eyes. Anything that wasn't your status quo around here was hippie or liberal. "The Millers' daughter opened it after she got back from college." That was cool. I liked Emma Miller. She was one of the few girls in school who didn't look at me like I was covered in shit. Naturally, I told Grandpa to make the hippie coffee shop our first stop. I stopped breathing for a second at the sight of the huge building that wasn't there when I left the city. 'Dunnett Industries,' the massive sign read. The Dunnetts owned half the town. Mr. Dunnett was a savvy businessman who had his finger in a little bit of everything. "What is that?" I grumbled. "Oh... the Dunnetts managed to get a contractor to sort out their roots here. It's some kind of technological warehouse, it provides work for many families around the area." I didn't ask any more, I didn't speak any more. The past was best left in the past, right? When we got to Main Street, it felt like time stood still in this part of town. The white kiosk was surrounded by beautiful flowers and trees, and the shops surrounded the park. He parked in front of the hardware store, saying the hippie store was right on the other side of the kiosk. I could see the building, it was bright yellow and stood out from all the white. I grabbed my bag and stood tall and proud, even though my feet were killing me from yesterday's adventure. When I opened the door to Emma's Café, it was paradise. It smelled like coffee grounds and baked goods. I was surprised by the long line. As I was going to stay here for a while, I took a moment to look around. There were small tables along the walls, all with books on them. A smile appeared on my face. From what I remembered, Emma liked to read, she always had her head stuck in a book. The wall on the other side was black. Looking closer, I realized it was a giant chalkboard. At the top, there was a quote of the day, today: Don't let yesterday be dictated.These words spoke to me, as if I were there to see them. The girl I used to be was not the woman I was today, it made my shoulders relax a little and my breathing became a little more comfortable. Still waiting, I decided to pick up my phone and turn it back on. Had left since I ran into my ex-boyfriend with his secretary. After that, I had stayed in a hotel and gave them the number so they could contact me there. As soon as the phone was on, it started ringing with messages, missed calls, and voicemails. This was going to be stressful. "Hello, what can I get for you?" Emma smiled at me. She was still looking sweet, with a curvy frame, blonde hair that reminded me of sunrises