Exposing the Billionaire (Corporate Affairs, Book #1)

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Exposing the Billionaire (Corporate Affairs, Book #1) Page 1

by Andi Alexander




  Exposing the Billionaire (Corporate Affairs #1)

  by

  Andi Alexander

  The material in this document contains explicit sexual material that is intended for mature audiences only and is inappropriate for readers under eighteen years of age.

  ©Andi Alexander, 2014. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination, have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All characters depicted in this book are assumed age eighteen and older.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademarked owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Disclaimer

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 1

  Kate Kaufmann listened to her editor’s nasally voice come through over the phone. She swiveled impatiently, sitting at her desk in the small studio apartment she called home. He was running his mouth, as per usual, reminding her that she had one month to get this job done.

  “I don’t wanna hear anything about extensions either,” Peterson warned her. “If you can’t get this scoop, you’re out. After that fiasco with the Jamison Corporation, you’re lucky I’m willing to stick my neck out for you at all.”

  Irritation made her head pound. “The facts were good on that one,” she argued for the hundredth time. “If my chickenshit source hadn’t been bought at the last second that would have been the story of a lifetime.”

  Peterson huffed into the phone. “Well, he did. And that retraction cost us big time.”

  “That won’t happen again. I’ve got an in this time. No source, just direct facts. I’ll expose the Blaine Corporation; you’ll get your story and I’ll get my Pulitzer.”

  “What’s your in?” Peterson asked gruffly.

  Kate smiled, feeling confident despite the pressure he was putting on her. “I’ve got a job as his personal assistant.”

  Surprise coated her editor’s voice when he asked, “How the hell did you manage that?”

  “I’ve got my connections,” she replied vaguely.

  “Yeah, well, just make sure they don’t screw us this time.”

  There was a click and the phone went dead. Now that she wasn’t arguing with her boss over whether or not this story would be the end of her career, some of her confidence faded. Kate was a good reporter. She knew how to write, how to wheedle information out of people, while simultaneously earning their trust.

  No one could argue with her results, until that damn Jamison exposé. Though she had been right and her writing had been top notch, her source who had been a disgruntled worker within the company suddenly denied everything he had told her.

  She didn’t have to ask what had happened. It didn’t surprise her in the least that he had been bought off with a rather sizeable paycheck. She wanted to push the matter and further expose the company by accusing them of bribery to boot, but the paper wouldn’t do it. They had taken a hit for her article and the company had insisted on a retraction. With no hard evidence now that the source was denying everything, they were left without a leg to stand on. And Kate was left in the doghouse.

  Peterson was right about one thing: her job was on the line with this one.

  * * *

  Her day at work started at seven-thirty. A woman named Clarice Adams was showing her around the building and giving her the lowdown on what she would be doing for Mr. Blaine as his personal assistant. Kate wondered if she would have to deal with harassment or something along those lines. She was a fairly good looking woman and it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.

  Part of her hoped he would make a move on her. A sleazy scumbag would be a nice addition to her exposé.

  She decided to see if Ms. Adams had had any run ins. The woman was beautiful, with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail that went down the middle of her back stopping just before her hips, which were slimmer than Kate’s, but went well with the woman’s tiny waist. If Mr. Blaine liked chasing tail, then it would be impossible not to go after this woman.

  “How long have you worked here, Ms. Adams?” Kate asked, attempting to sound conversational.

  The woman glanced over, her brown eyes making Kate think that the woman wasn’t a natural blonde. “About five years now,” she replied in that crisp voice of hers. She wasn’t rude, but she wasn’t exactly exuding friendliness either. “I’ve worked for Mr. Blaine since my internship in college.”

  Yep. That sounded about right, fitting the sharp woman to a t.

  “So you must really like it here to have stayed this long,” Kate prompted.

  The woman stopped outside of a door—silver with molding that almost looked like glass—and spun on her gray heels to face Kate.

  “I find it very stimulating.”

  Stimulating. Kate thought about what kind of ‘stimulation’ she was getting from this place and wondered how best to approach the subject. As a reporter, Kate knew that the wrong question to the wrong person was as good as a solid door in your face.

  “And the wages are generous,” Kate continued, smiling as though a simpleton merely happy with a paycheck above minimum wage. “Mr. Blaine seems like a good boss.”

  Clarice’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, suggesting that there was something about Blaine being a good boss that Clarice didn’t like Kate talking about. Time to do some smooth back pedaling and emphasize the dumb broad routine.

  “I’m really looking forward to working for him,” she said with that same stupid smile plastered on her face. “I’m really good at making coffee.”

  What suspicion had taken hold in Clarice’s expression softened slightly, although not altogether fading. “Well,” she said dryly. “There will be some of that, but those won’t be your only tasks. You’ll also be required to answer phone calls and take messages for Mr. Blaine, usually only when he’s out of his office.” Her voice was quick, but insistent, as those these items were more than a job description, but a calling.

  Kate was pretty sure being a secretary wasn’t a calling for anyone, regardless of whether he was a hot shot corporate CEO or not.

  “There will be filing, taking memos, keeping his schedule, and fielding any persons that come to the office requesting to see him. Some will have appointments—some will not. It’s important to make sure no one disturbs Mr. Blaine without an invitation, understand?” Her eyes flashed accusingly, making her look older and dangerous.

  Kate nodded quickly, feeling the intensity of the woman grow the more she talked about Mr. Blaine. Suddenly, it occurred to her that Clarice may have chosen to stay with the company for reasons not purely professional.

  So maybe Kate’s sleazy boss angle could work out after all.

  She would have to make notes, then just wait and see.

  “Now,” Clarice continued, straightening her already perfectly pressed suit. “You
will work primarily from here,” she said as she opened the door they had been standing in front of. They walked in, revealing a wide hallway that might as well been its own office. “That will be your desk.”

  She waved her freshly manicured fingers towards a large desk shaped like a teardrop—stainless steel silver, of course—with what looked like a top of the line computer and a very comfortable chair.

  “You are welcome to bring some personal items,” she told Kate evenly, but the way she said ‘personal items’ suggested that she didn’t care for them in an office setting. “They are to be tasteful, minimal, and arranged so as not to distract visitors or become hindrances for office duties.”

  Kate cleared her throat, then smiled blandly. “Of course.”

  “Through that door is Mr. Blaine’s office. You won’t spend much time in there,” Clarice said with only a hint of smugness. “However, on occasion he will ask for coffee, reports, or memos that require you to enter. Be sure you knock first. Always.”

  Kate stared at the set of tall, intricately etched double doors. They followed that same silver theme that the whole place had going on, but they were carved into, displaying swirling designs. They were so thin and so light, because of the silver, that they didn’t come off as gaudy. Merely something interesting to see beneath the surface that came about only when you were looking carefully.

  Beyond those doors was Kate’s goal. Of course, she would snoop around the files she would have access to and question other employees besides the strange, strict Ms. Adams, but Blaine’s office was her best bet for dirt.

  Every company had some, especially the billion dollar ones, and they all kept the evidence close to the vest. But that was okay. Getting at that kind of secret information was Kate’s specialty.

  “That’s about it, Ms. Kaufmann,” Clarice said, finishing their little tour. “Feel free to direct any of your questions to me—no need to bother Mr. Blaine.”

  If the woman had been six foot two with bulging biceps, she would have made a great body guard.

  “Thank you, I will,” Kate answered demurely.

  When Clarice left, Kate took a seat behind her desk, getting acquainted with her computer and the phone system, which was a headset instead of a receiver.

  It all seemed pretty straightforward. Now she just had to do her job well enough to not get fired before she got her story.

  Oh, and not let anyone know she was an undercover reporter looking to take down one of the biggest corporations in the nation.

  Instead of panicking or worrying over the pressures surrounding her, Kate smiled and leaned back in her chair. She lived for this.

  Chapter 2

  Kate’s second day of work started out with a stack of papers that required filing, organizing, and copying. She was hoping that she would get lucky early on and find something incriminating, but they mostly constituted contracts and financial agreements. Not being a lawyer, it was hard to tell if they were legitimate business arrangements, but they looked pretty sound to her.

  Several of the documents required signatures and she was hopeful that they would give her an easy way into Blaine’s office. The downside to that was, of course, that he would be in his office at the same time and it would be pretty hard to do any snooping. But that was okay. She could do some recon first, getting an idea of the layout of his office so she knew where to look when she could get in without him around.

  “Okay, copy machine first,” Kate muttered to herself.

  She gathered several of the documents; these had already been signed and only needed to be copied and sent out to the appropriate partners. Down the hall and to the left was the copier. She could still see her desk from the room and with the headset, she could still answer the phone from wherever she was.

  This was going to be a breeze.

  The machine was industrial sized, a little different than anything Kate had had to use before, but how hard could it be to figure out? The big green button was clearly the on, there was an in box to be filled with paper, an out box where she would find her copies, and a top lid with a scanner beneath where she would place her documents.

  Simple enough.

  Half an hour later, she was swimming in copies, couldn’t find the original documents, and couldn’t even figure out which papers belonged to which contracts.

  “Shit,” she said for the hundredth time.

  “What is going on in here?” demanded the cool voice of Clarice Adams.

  Kate looked over her shoulder to find the woman standing in the doorway—in another grey suit, this one pinstriped, with four inch heels—her hands on her slim hips.

  “Um,” said Kate, embarrassed at being caught fighting with something as simple as a copier. She quickly picked herself up off the floor, straightening the pencil skirt she wore. “I was having some difficulty with—”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Clarice raised a single carefully drawn eyebrow, her lips puckered in a frown. “I wouldn’t think that someone with your resume would be plagued by a simple copier.”

  Kate winced. That stung. Worse, it was sort of true. Kate was a highly qualified individual, but she had never worked in a high powered office setting like this before. The trick was, her resume said she had.

  “It’s a slightly different model,” Kate began, but Clarice just waved her hand impatiently.

  “I don’t care if it’s a NASA copier meant for the space shuttle Columbia. It’s still just a copier.”

  Feeling irritation and frustration building inside her, Kate tried to keep her cool and remind herself that she only had to keep this job long enough to blow the lid on this company. “I’m sorry, Ms. Adams, I—”

  “Never mind. Just clean this up.”

  It took everything in Kate to remain calm and now tell that woman exactly what she thought of her stupid suit and heels. Taking a few deep breaths, Kate gathered up the disorganized copies, then headed back to her desk to sort them all out.

  She would have to up her game and make sure she knew what to do if she wanted to keep this job.

  There was a quick buzz at her desk, then a deep, silky voice came through the intercom. “Ms. Kaufmann, coffee in my office.”

  With a start, Kate realized that was the voice of Lucas Blaine. Flustered, she scattered her papers all over again desperately searching for a notepad, pen, and her coveted tape recorder. This was her first opportunity at Blaine.

  Straightening out her skirt and fixing her hair, she walked briskly to the double doors. With only a moment’s pause to prepare herself, she opened one of the doors and poked her head in. “Mr. Blaine?”

  His desk chair was swiveled so that the back was facing her, him evidently sitting in it. He was talking rapidly to someone on the phone in what she thought was French, but waved her in with a large hand. Kate came farther into his office, stopping just in front of his large hardwood desk.

  While he continued on in French—she would have to listen over the recording of it later to translate—she looked around. The office was huge with ceiling length windows lining the back that left a panoramic view of the city. Off to the right were paintings, large and framed in patina bronze, a mix of forest landscapes and city skylines. She thought one of them might be Tokyo.

  On the right was a row of filing cabinets with wood facings and sitting on top of them was a huge spider plant whose leaves were tangling down over it.

  It was the only room in the entire building Kate had seen that wasn’t decorated in the same modern silver and gray motif.

  After several moments, Blaine said, “Au revoir.”

  Blaine stood up from his chair and it was the first time Kate realized how tall he was. She had seen pictures of him before, but only a scant few, because he was one of a handful of billionaires that didn’t care to be plastered on the covers of magazines. None of them did him justice.

  He turned to face her, walking around to the front of his desk, hand outstretched in greeting.

  “Ms. Kaufmann, I pres
ume,” he said in that same rich voice she’d heard over the intercom. “I’m Lucas Blaine.”

  His blue eyes stared into her green ones, showing intelligence and intensity. The line of his full lips was curved ever so slightly, making him seem as though he was always on the verge of smiling. His blonde hair was parted to the side, probably kept at a neat and tidy length, though she had the feeling he was due for a haircut. It was starting to get a little long, touching the collar of his white button down shirt—which left the top two buttons open, he wore no tie. And as her eyes traveled lower down she noted his broad shoulders, his fit arms, the muscles showing beneath the fabric. His shirt was tucked into black slacks and she wondered if—

  “Ms. Kaufmann?”

  Kate was brought out of her musings by his voice—and realized she’d been staring. Feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, she quickly extended her hand and gripped his. It was warm and strong, his hand so big that it practically swallowed hers.

  “Yes, sorry,” she apologized. “I was distracted... by the office.”

  She tried pulling her hand away, but his remained gripped around hers for several moments longer than it should have been. When the contact ended and his hand dropped back to his side, she swallowed hard.

  “It’s lovely. Not at all like the rest of the building.”

  His eyebrows rose and she realized that she just insulted the aesthetic persona of his company. Today was just not her day.

  She winced and apologized again. “Sorry. Not that the rest of the building is terrible, I just really think your office has a more personal touch.”

  His hands dug into his pockets. Her eyes darted to his slacks, then back up to his face. She couldn’t tell if he caught her flickering gaze. If he did, he didn’t mention it.

  “Yes, well, I had a little more direct input in the design of my office,” he admitted.

  “Not in the rest of your company?” Kate asked, smelling the potential for a new facet to her story.

  He laughed. “Oh, I have plenty of say in my company. Just not so much in the way it looks.”

 

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