The Day The CEO Called My Boss For Me

The day I finally cut ties with Asher Vaughn, I changed my number, my email, and my life.
For years, he would send a lavish holiday packageChristmas, my birthdaybut he never otherwise attempted to contact me.
That stopped at a company dinner a few nights ago.
His call went straight to my bosss cell phone.
Mr. Davies answered, his face a careful mask of deference and terror, then stared at me, dumbfounded.
Mr. Vaughn says his daughter is sick. He wants you there.
The entire table went silent.
1
My co-workers, with their honed instincts, had already spotted our CEO heading toward our table and lifted their glasses in salute. I was prepared to do the same, ready with a professional toast. I hadn't prepared for the words that came out of his mouth.
Around me, my colleagues exchanged glances.
Sienna, when did you get married?
And you have a kid? I don't remember you taking any maternity leave.
Asher Vaughn and I were not, and never had been, the marrying kind.
I ignored them, rising from my chair. Mr. Davies, did he say which hospital?
He waved me back down. No rush, Sienna. Eat first. Ill arrange a car; Im taking you myself in a minute. He signaled his assistant, Riley, and left the room in a hurry.
A co-worker leaned in. Hes right, eat something. Rushing wont help now.
What does your husband do? The boss is treating this like a matter of national security.
Seriously, why wouldnt he just text you? Why the whole detour?
I offered a dismissive answer. Im single now.
A collective, quiet hmm went around the table. They leaned back and nodded, a knowing glint in their eyes.
Well, that explains it.
Young people have too much pride. Wait till youre my age. Youll realize you cant block an ex-husband. When you need him, one text, and hell still show up for you.
You had a kid, and I bet hes loaded. Whyd you break up?
I said nothing.
Riley tapped my shoulder. Cars here. Mr. Davies is waiting.
2
I got into the passenger seat and glanced at the backseat in the rearview mirror. You can just drop me at the subway station.
Nonsense. A child is sick; Im coming to check on her. Gotta send my regards. He chuckled, making an attempt at a joke. We have hidden powerhouses in this company. Getting married so young, was it an arranged family thing?
Arranged. The word was laughable.
The first time I met Asher Vaughn, I had just graduated college. I was twenty-two, had been jobless for two months, and was eating an eight-dollar container of greasy takeout on a freeway overpass late at night. I was staying in a thirty-dollar-a-night hostel, and my entire life fit into a single twenty-four-inch suitcase and a backpack.
My parents had called me, asking about my interviews. They told me not to be so picky. Work hard, they said. Maybe offer to clean up the office before the interviewthe manager might see I was a serious, humble girl and hire me on the spot.
I slowly refuted every suggestion. Finally, they relented, suggesting I just come home and start a business.
What business? Where would the money come from?
If all else failed, they said, I could open a breakfast diner. We could borrow a bit of money from a friend. Having some work, even if it lost money, was better than lying around. If you lie around too long, you lose your drive. Besides, I was a college graduate now. It was time I sent some money home.
I hadnt been lying around. I had spent the last of my savings hopping between hostels in different boroughs. I worked weekend gigs for a few hundred bucks to cover food for the coming week. On weekdays, I submitted resumes and went on interviews.
Every HR person told me I lacked standout experience. The only place that seemed interested, an electronics factory, said, Youre a college grad, youll find a good job eventually. You wont stay here long. When I posted my frustrations online, I got DMs suggesting I try working in clubs.
I hung up on my parents. The food in my mouth turned to dust. I thought, I'll just finish this and jump.
The street below was sparsely populated with cars. A sleek, black Range Rover with tinted windows drove by several times. It finally killed its engine and parked right below me.
I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and walked over to the car, tapping on the window.
Is your car broken?
You cant park here.
There are cameras up there, and traffic patrols. Youll get a thousand-dollar ticket for five minutes.
The window rolled down slowly. A hand holding a cigarette emerged. Asher Vaughn looked up at me and suddenly smiled.
Let them ticket me. It doesnt matter. I just wanted to see how long you were going to stand on this overpass.
I froze. My eyes welled up instantly. The first tear broke free, and the emotion that followed was like a dam breaking. I turned my back, still holding the unfinished box of food, and went back to the railing, trying to keep eating.
The car door opened and closed behind me. Leather soles tapped lightly on the pavement, stopping a few feet away. The smoke drifted to me. He didnt say anything.
I sniffled, turned, and held out my hand. Can I have one?
He raised an eyebrow, the cigarette dangling from his lips. Its the middle of the night, and a man is following you. Shouldnt you be running? Youre asking for a smoke?
This place has more cameras than your driving test center! Besides, if you were a creep, would I outrun your car?
He coughed, choking on the smoke a little. He pulled out a metallic case and offered a cigarette. I leaned in to borrow his lighter. I didnt tell him the rest of the thought: I wasnt planning on living anyway. Whether a predator was following me didnt matter. With a little luck, I could trade my life for his.
The thin cigarette had a subtle scent of sandalwood. He stood three feet away, hands in his pockets. What happened? Tell me about it.
Work, I said. If I cant find a job soon, Im going back home to start that breakfast diner.
He seemed genuinely surprised. You cant find work in New York?
I cast him a sideways glance. Our eyes met, and his shock didnt seem fake. I took a deep drag and gestured wildly.
Do you know how impossible it is out there?
I applied for a video game writer position, talked for an hour, and they told me they mixed up the formsthey needed a graphic designer.
I applied for an Operations role. I got there, and they asked if I wanted a Sales job instead. A complete waste of a trip.
One time, I took the subway for two and a half hours for an interview, and it was a tiny startup. They were hiring for one position, but I had to be the HR, the admin, the accountant, and the bosss assistant!
I kept applying. Added one hiring manager on LinkedIn to discuss the role, and he sent me a voice note. The music in the bar was louder than his voice.
The rest of the listings are for streamers or club hosts.
I finally found a normal listing. I checked the time. The HR person was still active online at 3:00 a.m.
I asked the HR person if the company offered vacation time. He said, We havent removed vacation time yet.
I asked, Whats the core strength of your company? He said, The strength is that employees leave after a few days.
I cursed and laughed at the same time. God, my life is a joke.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, politely pursing his lips.
I leaned on the railing, looking at him. You look like youre in government or something respectable. You wouldnt understand how hard it is.
I understand more than you think, he scoffed lightly. I once worked on a development project. I wore this jacket, and I was with a reporter. A villager said I was only there for the photo-op, and that the jacket I was wearing cost more than his annual income. Nothing I said helped.
I glanced at the brand logo on his sleeve. I wiped my eyes and looked closer.
Heres my advice, I said. Next time someone says that, first, reassure him. Tell him its perfectly normal not to recognize a high-end technical brand. Tell him not to feel insecure.
Then, clarify. Tell him the jacket is actually much more expensive than he thinksits worth eight years of his income, maybe more.
And finally, tell him youre not there for a photo-op. Youre there to make serious money.
He stared at me, then finally burst into laughter.
The takeout container was empty, down to the last few grains of rice. I picked them up one by one, looking at the dark water below the overpass. The wind dried my tears. I didnt feel like jumping anymore. I felt foolish for being so dramatic. How could I let something so small push me to the edge?
I took a deep breath and turned to him. Thank you. Im going home now. Goodbye.
Wait. He stopped me, pulling a business card from his wallet. He got back in his car to grab a sleek fountain pen, then scrawled a few words on the back. The junior partner at this firm is a college friend of mine. If they have a suitable opening, tell them I referred you for an interview. Tell him to do me a favor.
Aura Tech. The front of the card held a simple name, contact information, and an office address: Asher Vaughn.
I wondered if he was just trying to hook up with me. But after spending the night tossing and turning in my rented room, I went to the company.
3
I got the job.
Two months passed, and I never saw Asher Vaughn again. I started to relax.
The job wasn't a dream, but it was surprisingly good. The workload was split between me and a woman who was out on maternity leave. What used to be one persons job was now two, which made life easy for everyone.
One evening, after work, I saw the black Range Rover again. Asher was parked on the side of the street. He didn't get out but asked about my life. I gave him a stammering update.
I finally found the courage to ask for his phone number. Ive been wanting to thank you. Sending money or an expensive gift is too much for me, and too little for you. My family sends me some specialty goods from home. If you dont mind, Id like to send you some.
Dont worry about it, he said. My number is on the card. Call me if you need anything.
I insisted, got his address, and mailed him a package of goods from my hometown. Asher texted me a simple thanks, saying his mother enjoyed them very much.
He traveled constantly between the coasts. When he was free, he would often come by and meet me for coffee. Mutual attraction was inevitable.
A year into the relationship, I found out I was pregnant.
The baby was completely unplanned. By the time I checked, I was already seven weeks along.
I often heard HR complaining about female employees who got hired and immediately took a marriage or maternity leave. When I was hired, I promised I wouldnt have a child for at least five years. If I didn't terminate the pregnancy, my career would be on hold for at least a year. Was twenty-four too young to get married?
But this was our first child. I already loved it. I wanted to have a real home with Asher.
What about my job?
I sat in my room for half an hour, holding the sonogram report. I decided to wait for Asher to get back from his trip. We would talk it through: marriage and the baby, or a quick termination.
A few days later, his flight landed. The moment he walked in, he dropped his jacket, scooped me up, and held me high. His eyes were wide and beaming. He looked incredibly happy.
I understood instantly. You already know?
Of course I keep an eye on your medical records. He knelt, his hands gently holding my hips, his gaze fixed on my flat stomach. You cant even tell yet.
The anxiety that had been swirling inside me suddenly found solid ground, leaving me feeling soft and weightless. Asher wanted this baby.
I stroked the back of his head, feeling incredibly happy. Do you want to keep it?
He smiled. Why wouldnt I?
The scales tipped immediately. I hardly had to think. Even if my life of freedom and singleness was over, even if my career stalled, it didnt matter.
When are we getting married? I asked, blushing. The wedding can wait, but we need to tell our parents first.
He was six years my senior. I hadn't even told my parents I was dating an older man.
Ashers smile didnt falter, but his tone was easy, almost playful. Our Sienna is so young, and shes already thinking of settling down?
I bristled, a mix of shame and anger. What do you mean, I am? If I weren't pregnant, I wouldnt be pushing for marriage so soon!
He stood up, ruffling my hair. Thats right.
Silence stretched for several seconds. I slowly processed his words and looked up. What does that mean?
He pulled out a cigarette, preparing to light it, then pinched the tip and put it away. He walked to the window and lit a fresh one, taking his time.
Sienna, he said, his expression calm and gentle. I can give you everything you want, except for marriage.
Oh. So I was so angry, I almost laughed, but my throat closed up instantly. So you want me to be your mistress, have a child out of wedlock, and then have other kids call her a bastard with no father, say her mother is a
He cut me off. You are not a mistress. The child will be under my name. I will provide a life of absolute luxury. No one will ever dare to speak ill of her.
I stared blankly at his profile, seeing the cold finality in his decision. There was no room for discussion.
I understand, I finally said. You never intended to have a real life with me.
And you should have had the decency to break up with me properly! My parents raised me to be a respectable woman. How dare you insult me like this?
Break up Can we even use that word? I mechanically wiped my face. Were done. Ill move out in a few days. And Im getting an abortion.
Sienna! He violently crushed the cigarette butt on the windowsill. His sandalwood-scented hand cupped my cheek. Were you happy with me?
I just stared, silent. The moisture of my tears was absorbed by his thumb.
His voice was steady. I am relaxed when you are with me. I dont need a piece of paper. I will be responsible for you, in every wayas long as Im standing.
And what makes you think you can talk like that? I slapped his hand away and turned my back.
Knock, knock, knock.
A pause, then another patient, repeated knocking.
I dabbed my face with a tissue and opened the door.
Four men in suits stood outside, holding numerous shopping bags. Pink baby outfits, tiny socks, and designer diaper bags.
I leaned weakly against the wall, staring at the extravagant baby things. I finally understood. I had just gotten the blood test results, but he already had the babys gender information.
His family background was far more powerful than I had imagined. Asher Vaughn had the power to make that promise.
Think about it one more time. He walked up to me and paused, raising a hand. I turned my head away just as his fingertips brushed my ear. Keeping this child will only benefit you.
Right. Become a wealthy mother, a one-way ticket to prosperity! Asher, are you treating this like a business deal?
The man in front of me let out a soft sigh. His face was still calm, but I could tell his patience was wearing thin.
You havent been. If you were, I wouldn't have kept you around. I wasnt looking for a transaction. But if you insist on seeing it that way, fine. You name your price. Ill write a blank check.
That day felt like the world had turned upside down.
I agreed to keep the baby.
Our relationship returned to a semblance of its former sweetness. The pregnancy was smooth. Every night, as he gently held me, I kept thinking: My first love became my sugar daddy. Maybe my morals werent so high after all.
...
Security guided the car into the underground garage. The hospital was quiet; nurses wheeled elderly patients through the courtyard. I scrolled through my phone impatiently, looking toward the main entrance. I wondered how Asher was managing to raise a child. A little girl shouldnt have to be in the hospital. Maybe I should have just raised her myself.
Mr. Davies retrieved a gift box from the trunk and motioned for me to follow. We were directed to the VIP ward.
Two men were standing in the hallway outside the room, chatting easily.
Kids get sick all the time. Why the big fuss? Everyone from the family estate is here.
You can say that to my older brothers face.
Ha. How many heads do I have to lose? One wrong word, and before Asher moves, the grandmother and the wife will slap me silly.
You forgot my fist. Holly is my niece. I dont tolerate anyone speaking ill of her.
The man's soft laugh was oddly reminiscent of Asher.
I focused on the viewing window of the hospital room. I could vaguely see a small hand resting on the edge of the bed.
As I approached, a bodyguard standing by the door silently blocked my path. The men nearby turned at the sound, frowning slightly.
Mr. Davies stepped forward before I could. He held out his hand. Declan. Youre here too? How is the little one?
Declan. So, this was Ashers younger brother.
Thank you for coming, Mr. Davies. Declan Vaughns lips were tight. He didn't return the handshake. My niece has a fever and doesnt want to see anyone. Im afraid Ill have to ask you both to go home.
I was about to speak, but my eyes met those of the child on the bed. Her lethargic eyes suddenly opened, and her lips moved. The soundproofing was too good; I couldn't hear a word.
Declan put his arm out, pushing me back slightly, looking annoyed. Maam, is there anything else? Please dont disturb her rest.
The door opened from inside. Asher Vaughns gaze fell on me, lingered for a few seconds, then shifted to Declan.
I asked her to come.

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