She’s no weakling.
It’s going to be even more satisfying when I break her. She beat me once. I’ll never let her beat me again. “Call them. Call them and say you need a new position.”
She crosses her arms, trying to get something between her and me. As if her crossed arms are a barrier. The movement pushes her breasts up and I ache to rip her clothes off. “No. I need this job. If I quit, they aren’t going to offer me another. You want me out of here? Fire me without cause. Jesus, Luke. You don’t need a secretary. You need an intervention.”
She thinks she can sass me. Let’s see how far that gets her. My eyes narrow as I search her for weakness like I do before the fight in a ring, waiting for my opponent’s eyes to drop down submissively and show their nervousness.
Firing her is not an option. I don’t care what my uncle said. This isn’t about having a secretary.
This is about getting even.
“And what happens when I call the agency and say you showed up late? When I tell them you fucked up and I need a new girl?”
Her defiance wanes, her lips trembling. “Luke, I need this job. Please. I know how to be a secretary. You want me to get you coffee? I’ll do it. You want me to schedule appointments? I’m your girl. I’m juggling this and serving and school and…and my rent was due last week. We can make this work. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Pity?
I’ve got no pity. Not for her. She made me like this. I was like this before I met her, and she made me so much worse. She breaks off eye contact and I grab her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “Quit.”
“I. Can’t. Quit.”
Defiance.
For now.
Until I break her.
I want to throw her over my lap and spank the curves of her perfect bottom until she cries. I need to push her down against my desk, bent over and vulnerable, holding her hands behind her back and exposing her to my dominance. I want her to whimper and moan as I force every inch of my dick into her, stretching and making her hurt. I want to throw her down on the floor right now and feel her hands so pitifully weak, pushing me back as I put my hand between her legs and feel her wetness, telling her she’s mine.
Mine? She’ll never be mine. She never was. It was all a lie.
I slam my hand hard against the wall, leaving a dent, and she gasps out. Pain fills me and it brings me back to the truth. I pull my hand from the wall and sit down hard at my desk, the old wound ripping open. The pain I’ve been drinking and fucking away. I can hear myself telling her I loved her. I remember the moment the world stopped being black and white after my twin brother killed himself, the moment when she made me think there was something good in the world.
It was all a lie.
I’m going to make her pay. Two jobs? Rent past due?
She’s on the verge of having to leave New York with her tail between her legs. One little push is all it’ll take. She’s on the side of a ravine and I’m going to help her lose her footing.
“You aren’t going to last a fucking week here. I’m going to make you quit.”
Her eyes burn. “You sure about that? I don’t play nice.” There’s anger in her eyes. I was nothing to her. What does she care?
I stand, ready to grab her, ready to do I don’t know what to her, but I trip. My mouth catches the side of the desk as I fall. I taste blood. I force myself to my feet before the referee could have started counting, and she looks at me with a mixture of fear and concern. The concern cuts at my soul.
Anger—I can deal with. Hatred, I can handle.
Pity? Concern? Fucking lies. Lies from a siren’s throat. I point to the door.
“Out. Get out!”
4
Nat
I escape the office, closing the door behind me softly, and let out a huge breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Everyone is staring at me. They’re on phone calls, typing at their computers, but they’re looking at me like I’m an alien. I don’t know how much they heard but they just watched me get dragged down the hall and into the office. My hair is mussed up like he was kissing me, and I hope no rumors get started. It’s only ten minutes into day one and I’m already screwed.
I smooth my skirt and sit, booting up the computer. I’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do but at least I’ll be professional.
“Holy shit! Natalie!” That voice is familiar. It’s one of Luke’s cousins. Kevin, if I’m remembering right. A big guy. At least a six footer, but he’s built like a football lineman, so different from Luke’s dangerous litheness. Kevin bellows like he owns the place. Since his dad is the boss, that’s close enough.
“I prefer Nat, thank you,” I say in a low voice, hoping he’ll match my volume.
“Jeeeeeeee-suuuuus!” He’s practically yelling. No luck. “I haven’t seen you since…god damn! I wish I was there on prom night. You fucking got him. I wish I could have seen his face!”
I don’t want to think about…that. I can’t think about it. This is like high school all over again. “Kevin, what am I supposed to do here?”
He snorts. “If you’re anything like the last four secretaries he went through, you’ll be fired by the end of the week. So just sit there and look pretty until he gets pissed and tells you to pack it up.”
That’s…a relief. If he fires me without cause, his company still has to pay the temp agency, and I’ll get my salary whether I’m sitting at home studying or sitting in front of his office.
All I have to do is outlast him.
I tap my fingers against the desk. So we’re playing games, again. “I mean, what do I do? I’ve never worked for an apparel company before. What’s Luke’s job?”
He shrugs. “Answer phones, smile, whatever secretaries normally do. Luke’s working for talent acquisition. Getting guys to flog our shit on social. Oh man. I’ve got to talk to him. I can’t believe you just showed up. He looked like he saw a ghost when you walked in.”
“Kevin, that’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea.” He ducks around my desk, and I don’t have the authority to stop the boss’s son from walking into Luke’s office.
5
Luke
I grab a fist of Kleenex. The last of the box. Of course, it’s fucking empty. I’ve got a useless secretary.
The door opens without a knock, and I’m ready to split open the head of whoever is stupid enough to bother me.
Kevin.
He closes the door behind him as he laughs. “Holy shit! You hired Nat? After what she did to you? Oh shit. You’re bleeding. Did she beat you up?”
Nat.
That hits me like a slap.
“Natalie. You call her Natalie. Nat was my pet name for her. She hated whenever anyone else shortened her name. Only I got to call her that.
“Nah. She told me she goes by Nat.”
I dab the Kleenex against my split lip. I’m not going to explain myself to my kid cousin. “Don’t test me right now.”
“Or what? You gonna use those fists on me?” He does a ridiculous dance, ducking and weaving like he thinks a boxer would and jabbing at the air. I offered to teach him, once. He told me he doesn’t need to learn if he’s got me around.