Chapter Ten: Desperate Measures…

Aimee Landon walked into the tall building, her high pair of nude heels clicking against the magnolia floor. Her face wasn’t friendly for a fresh day’s start and that was primarily because she had had a rough night.

“Good morning, Ms. Aimee,” the secretary greeted cheerily as she came out of the elevator and proceeded to her office.

“Thank you,” Aimee said, straight-faced, and walked past her without bothering to be friendly for a bit. Her foul mood was very obvious, but Aimee did not care. She got into her office and shut the door.

Barely two minutes into settling in, Aimee received an email stating that the rest of the board members had a meeting in less than thirty minutes; actually, it was reminder email, but Aimee hadn’t prepared for any meeting, and it was totally unlike her.

Something was eating Aimee Landon up and it had something to do with Christopher Bridger honeymooning away in Miami.

“I can definitely skip this one,” Aimee said disgustingly. Other days, she would be willing to attend board meetings and smash things as usual, but she just could not bring herself to doing so today. Aimee knew herself; if she walked into that board room in this mood, she would definitely snap at somebody or all of them, considering the fact that her head was spinning from what was happening around her.

Christopher Bridger was freaking married! 

The man she had been saving herself for and working her ass off for had turned a blind eye to all her flirting and subtle advances all these years, only to find himself married to one of Mexico City’s rascals. Aimee brought out her phone and glanced at the text message Christopher had sent to her yesterday evening just when she was set to go to bed.

“Aimee, please set up a small welcome dinner party for my wife and I…nothing elaborate, but something to catch the eyes of the media.” 

Aimee gritted her teeth and groaned in annoyance. Thankfully, she was alone in her office and the office walls were thick enough to accommodate her painful screams. That text alone had been what had disrupted her entire right and soiled her mood this morning.

Aimee typed “Right on it” instantly with so much venom, pain, and jealousy. She would get to work, of course, but she would do it with a bleeding heart. She did not respond to the text last night, because she had been too tired and so had fallen asleep; the perfect excuse and knowing Christopher, he would buy her excuses without thinking twice, but the only problem was that he had refused to fall in love with her.

Aimee attempted to drop her phone, but she heard the beeping sounds of notifications, and then made the mistake of checking it out; it was the internet going wild with stories of the latest couple in Mexico City, Christopher Bridger, billionaire heir to Bridger Empire, one of the biggest and most successful empires in the city, and his stunning wife, Ashley Grander.

Aimee rolled her eyes. “They are always exaggerating things! Ashley is definitely not stunning,” Aimee said to herself, but she was unable to take her eyes off the picture the paparazzi had managed to capture when they were saying their vows. Aimee almost flung her phone in anger and jealousy.

“That should have been me, not her!” Aimee spoke angrily to the picture. No one would make a perfect match for Christopher except her, and if Christopher would only give them a chance and allow their love to grow, the whole world would see it too.

Then Aimee heard a soft knock on the door. She swallowed and took a few seconds to comport herself.

“Come in,” Aimee said and the secretary opened the door and entered.

“If this is about the board meeting, don’t worry about it, I am sending them a memo right away,” Aimee said dismissively.

“It’s not that,” the secretary corrected.

“Then what is it?” Aimee asked her, irritated. She would really love to have this moment to herself so that she could lick her wounds in peace, and think of a way out of this misery, because there was no way in hell that Aimee Landon would let any woman take Christopher away from her. Ashley Grander might have him now, but she would definitely get her man back.

If Aimee could not be with Christopher Bridger, then Aimee would see to it that no one else did.

“Mr. Christopher Bridger has asked that I run a couple of dinner ideas by you, because he said you were in charge,” she said.

“What is your name again?” Aimee asked, her irritation bubbling to the surface.

The poor girl noticed Aimee’s demeanor, and she wanted to disappear into the ground. “Tisha,” she answered calmly.

Aimee rolled her eyes; everything was just pissing her the hell off. “So what party are you talking about?”

“For his return with his wife. He specifically said he wanted it to be captured by the media and paparazzi,” Tisha told Aimee.

Aimee struggled to hide her rising anger, but it was barely working. The good thing was that the secretary would never be able to fathom the reason behind Aimee’s sour mood.

“Alright, let’s do it later, okay?” Aimee said and dismissed Tisha.

“Damn, so Christopher wasn’t bluffing when he sent that text?” Aimee thought to herself.

She knew now that she could not sit and watch things get out of hand, so Aimee dialed a number she hadn’t dialed in a really long time.

“Whoa, look who checked up on her old boy,” the hoarse masculine voice said over the phone.

“Derek, I need you to find out everything you know about Ashley Grander, and I mean filthy, dirty, ugly secrets,” Aimee went straight to the point.

“Who has gotten into your bad books again?” Derek asked, chuckling.

“Don’t ask, just get it done, and I will pay you handsomely,” Aimee assured him.

After the call, she relaxed with an evil glint in her eyes; it was time to ruin a freaking love story