I click forward to a photo of me and Ron Sanchez and Jim— whose full name is Jameson— Reed, at a black tie fundraising gala last year. And then to a photo of the three of us twenty years ago, toasting to the news that we had settled a big case and had enough money to move to a new and better office.
“Since childhood I’ve had the knack for entrepreneurship and for making money. This story ages me— if the Beatles reference and talk about historical Albuquerque hasn’t already—”
Everyone laughs. The three female associates at the side table try to sound sexy with their rather obviously forced laughter, while Madilyn sincerely lets loose a good belly chuckle.
“But I started my neighborhood’s first marble ring at age eight,” I continue. “If you wanted a better marble, you traded yours in to the kid who had the one you wanted, and paid him ten cents. Five of it went to him, and five to the ringleaders.”
The laughs continue.
“When times were good— whenever a kid had gotten paid extra for doing an errand around the house, or Grandma came to visit and gave him a quarter— kids improved their marble collection. And when times were bad— when a kid wanted the latest comic book but didn’t have the money, or he was being bullied by some other kid at lunch who required a pay- off to leave him alone— kids sold their marbles to make a little cash. But the house always won. And the ring wouldn’t have been the ring without my other ringleaders.”
I nod at Ron, my closest friend and business partner.
“The rest moved on, moved out of the neighborhood, disappeared. But one of them was Cameron Sanchez. We’re still leading the ring today.”
Everyone claps.
“Thank you for the applause.” I acknowledge. “But my point is that it takes a team of hard working, intelligent and— most of all— trustworthy people to build any organization that’s worthwhile. We find you trustworthy and loyal, and that was one reason that each of you were chosen as associates.”
I look directly at Madilyn. She returns my stare for a second, and then looks down at her laptop. Her cheeks redden slightly. I want her ass cheeks to match them after I get done spanking her.
“There’s a meaning to the fact that all of you are here today. The firm believes in you, and wants you as part of the team. The firm has a very special purpose for each of you.”
Again I look at Madilyn.
I can tell, even with the lights dimmed for the projector presentation and even with her face downcast, that she’s blushing even more now.
She knows I want her. I’ve never been one to hide my desires. And I know she wants me too. She just has to give into her own desire. I have ways to make that happen.
I click a button, and a photo appears on the screen of five guys— one of them being me— on top of a mountain.
“This is my climbing team on top of Mount Everest last summer.”
The crowd gasps. It’s a breathtaking view.
“We got there not right away but little by little, working together and as a team. It’s why I wasn’t here to meet any of you who were clerks last summer. But I did learn valuable lessons to bring back to you. We are all on the same team. We all must do our part. We each must do what is asked of us.”
I stare straight at Madilyn, who shifts her eyes up at me and then back down.
She’s acknowledging that I want her, and silently confirming that she wants me too.
“The concept of teamwork, of working together and helping each other, is why I started the associate mentoring program,” I continue.
I can see the three women sitting at the end of the table straighten up. Undoubtedly, they’ve heard of this program. They know that that whichever associate is my mentor also becomes my lover. And they all want to be that associate.
And that’s why they won’t be. Because they’re too fucking eager. I hate easy targets. I like a challenge.
I look at Madilyn and continue.
“Your mentors will find you later this afternoon and set up an initial appointment,” I tell the room. “The rest of today’s orientation will be about office procedures such as billing, using the brief bank, working on assignments, using the firm software and computers and the like.”
Everyone continues taking notes even though the meeting is over. Everyone hangs on my every word. Especially the girls who think I’m going to choose one of them as my mentee. But they’re wrong. Because I only want Madilyn.
“There are a lot of useful practical things you’ll be learning in these first few days and weeks,” I continue. “But your meetings with your mentors will be where you get into the heart and soul of practicing law, so make this first one count. Your mentor will be your coach, your guide, and your guru. It is my hope that these relationships will serve you well throughout your associateship here at Isaacs, Sanchez & Reed.”
Everyone waits with baited breath. They want to find out who their mentors are. And, perhaps even more importantly to some of them, who my mentee is.
I smile, knowing that I’ve teased them long enough.
“Monique has a list of mentors matched with mentees that she will pass out now before starting the portion of orientation that deals with payroll and benefits. There isn’t much rhyme or reason to why mentors were paired with mentees, since we don’t know much about you yet, and we only hope to be able to make some good guesses based on stated interests and goals.”
The three women in the front are whispering to each other, and it’s obvious they don’t believe me. They know that my mentee is carefully chosen ahead of time, as are many of the others. But some are assigned randomly, and it’s best to stress that part so that there are no accusations of favoritism or unfairness.
“Without further ado, I’ll leave you in the good hands of Monique.”
Everyone looks disappointed, but I couldn’t help one last tease, before I make my big announcement. Here it comes, and only one person is going to like it.
At least, she better like it. And if she doesn’t now, she will come to like it. Because I’ll be very good at persuading her.
“I’ll be leaving for the rest of the day. I’ve got client business to attend to and you’ll soon learn that the practice of law never stops. But before I go, I’m pleased to announce that my mentee this year is Madilyn St. Clair. I’m happy with the assignment, and I hope that all of you will be just as pleased with yours.”
I can hear Tara Mason’s gasp as I walk towards the exit. She covers her mouth, but whispers to Mandy. Annoying tendencies such as these are one of the many reasons I would never choose her as my mentee.
I look at Madilyn and raise my eyebrows. She’s staring straight back at me, as if taking me up on the challenge.
There’s nothing I like better a challenge. It’s why I’d chose a Madilyn over a Tara— or anyone in her crew— a thousand times over. And as if showing me just how much of a challenge she’s going to be, Madilyn lowers her eyes once again.
But I know she’s heard my message loud and clear— I’ve made sure of it, by delivering it in front of a room full of her peers— and now it’s up to her to respond to my cues.
For extra affect, I drop a folded piece of stationery paper in front of her before leaving the room.
If she is the woman I think she is, then she will be mine for the taking.
And I have never been wrong about this sort of thing.
My knack for women is as good as my knack for entrepreneurialism and money making. It hasn’t always been this way— my knowledge for what women want wasn’t as ingrained in me since childhood like the marble ring or other business ventures I started at a young age.
I had to learn the hard way, to move from what I know I didn’t want to what I know I do want. But once I realized it, I’ve been as right about women as I have been about business and the law.
And I know enough about women to know that, one way or another, Madilyn St. Clair is going to be mine.
Chapter 10 – Madilyn
I tell myself not to
open the note until orientation is over but I can’t help myself. But as Monique explains HR and billing policies that I already know from my boring early morning hours sitting in Cubicle Hell in front of my computer, it begins to feel as if the note is burning a hole on the conference room table in front of me.
I can see that the Barbies are almost as anxious for me to open the note as I am. I also notice, once Monique passes around the list of mentors, that they don’t seem too pleased with their assigned mentors.
They keep sneaking glances over at me and talking amongst themselves. Telling myself that I want them to strain their necks trying to look at what the note says, I finally open the folded- over piece of paper. Honestly, though, I can’t stand the anticipation any longer myself.
The stationery is fancy; the old- fashioned kind that no one ever even uses anymore. The initials ACM are embossed on it, and at the top, it says:
From the desk of Asher Charles Isaacs, Esquire.
The note is short and simple.
Madilyn,
Come to my office after orientation to receive instructions for your first training session.
- Asher.
My heart jumps up into my throat. The note sounds professional enough, but there’s an undertone to it that makes it a bit personal. Especially that last part.
My first training session?
Remembering that all eyes are on me— or at least those belonging to the Barbies and their little Ken Doll friend— I close the note and then type some gibberish on my laptop. I want to make it look like I’m taking notes from Asher’s note.
I want them to think I’m already being assigned big, important tasks, even though I know they think that I’m supposed to be Asher’s new sex slave or something. But I’ve only been chosen to be his professional mentee. And that’s all I’d ever agree to be, anyway.
Right? I can’t help but ask myself.
I’m not sure what to make of this situation. I’m flattered that Asher chose me as his mentee, but I want to have a nice, professional relationship with him. Isn’t it possible that he chose me because of my intelligence and proven track record of hard work?
But then, that means he isn’t into my physically. Just like the Barbies predicted. Maybe even because of my cankles.
I will myself not to look down self-consciously at my ankles. I don’t want to let the Barbies know they’ve gotten to me. And I know logically that the size or shape of my ankles haven’t changed one bit since I last looked down at them in the bathroom stall this morning.
And obviously Asher doesn’t care about my supposed cankles. Whether he’s interested in being my mentor for professional reasons or personal reasons or both, he clearly chose me out of all the other possible mentees, cankles and all.
Not knowing which choice to root for— Does he want me for my brain, or my body?— I feel restless, wishing that orientation could be over already. But it just drags on all day long, with no seeming end in sight.
As the afternoon inches forward to a close, I’m mad at myself for being excited about seeing Asher once orientation ends. But I can’t get him out of my head, and I’m glad I’ll soon find out what exactly he has in mind to do with me.
Chapter 11 – Madilyn
Finally, the orientation ends. As I stand up to leave— trying not to look like I’m in too much of a rush— the Barbies and their Ken rush over to me.
Looks like I’ve made some friends.
“Hey Madilyn,” says Candace, a fake grin spreading over her face. “How are you? I’ve been meaning to come say hi. Catch up with you a bit.”
“Hi there,” I say, trying to plaster an equally fake grin across my own face. “Last time I saw you was when I was lending you my Torts outline.”
I watch her blush and I know she’s thinking about how she was too hungover all during law school to study properly. And she wonders why Asher would pick me to mentor instead of her.
“I’m Mandy,” Mandy says. “We met at—”
“The mixer,” I fill in for her, extending my hand for her to shake. “You really like those Rum Runner drinks.”
Now it’s Mandy’s turn to blush.
“And I’m Tara,” Tara pipes in. “This is Joe.”
I resist the urge to reisaac, “You mean you’re the third Barbie, and this is Ken.”
I decide I’ve gotten in enough zingers for the afternoon.
Everyone shakes hands all around, and then I’m glad that the re-introductions are over. I also want the entire conversation to be finished for good so that I can go see Asher.
“So it looks like Mr. Isaacs has assigned himself as your mentor,” Candace says. “Lucky you!”
“Lucky me!” I repeat.
“Did he give you a note?” Mandy asks, butting in. “I noticed he may have given you a note. What does it say?”
“It just has some assignments to start working on,” I tell them, already having rehearsed my answer.
“This soon?” Joe doesn’t even try to hide his jealousy. “Like what kind of assignments?”
“Oh, some research memos and simple discovery stuff,” I lie.
But to my defense, I’m sure that’s what kind of assignments Asher will give me, because they’re the typical assignments.
It’s not like he’s going to assign me sexual duties or anything.
Right? I ask myself again.
“Look, it’s been nice chatting,” I tell him, more anxious than ever to go see Asher and find out what the hell he has in mind. “But it’s been a long day, and I need to head home.”
“We were only trying to be friendly,” Tara says, crinkling her nose up like a pug dog. “You don’t have to be so snooty.”
“I appreciate it,” I tell them. “I really do. I just have some plans and need to be going. And snooty is all just a matter of perception now, isn’t it? Let’s catch up soon though!”
“Definitely,” Candace says, waving a perfectly manicured hand at me. She elbows Tara, as if to put her in her place for being snarky with me.
Cankles: One. Barbies and Ken: Zero, I think, as I head off down the hallway on my own.
I’m too excited thinking about what Asher has in store for me to care about them anymore. This day is finally going the way I was hoping it might but in a totally different way than I had ever expected.
Chapter 12 – Madilyn
In planning my first day of work before I’d actually started it, I’d assumed I’d head back to my office after today’s orientation and continue setting it up and start working on any new assignments or notes from that day’s instructions. But since I don’t have an office yet, I sit down at my cubicle and stare at my computer.
There isn’t really any new work to get started on. At least, not until I see Asher. I just want to make sure that the Barbies and Ken leave, so they don’t see me going to his office on the seventeenth floor and start asking me even nosier questions.
I upload the notes I took during today’s orientation session to my drive on the firm server. I think about opening up the billing software and seeing if there’s a category for “training.” I doubt it, since the only hours that count are actual billable and collectible time spent working on client matters.
But then I see something flash in the corner of my computer screen. The IT guy had told me that app was for the intra-office instant messaging system. But I wasn’t expecting to get any messages yet.
I gulp and then click on the flashing light, somehow knowing who it’ll be.
Asher Isaacs: Did you read my note?
My fingers hover above the mouse, nervous to answer.
Madilyn St. Clair: Yes.
Asher Isaacs: Well, are you coming?
I gulp again.
Great.
I’m already being chastised by my new mentor. But I can’t help looking up and around and over my shoulder.
How does he know I’m here?
A thousand possible explanations run through my mind. He knows what time the orienta
tion was scheduled to finish. It’s the end of the day so he assumes I’ll be here. Maybe the partners can see when the associates’ computers are online. The instant messaging system does alert them when I’m online.
But I still feel as if I’m being watched.
And I don’t know whether to be creeped out or intrigued. I guess I feel a mixture of both. Like with everything else today, my emotions seem to be a big jumbled mess and jump all over the place.
I know I’d better answer him, right away.
Madilyn St. Clair: Yes, just had to upload my orientation notes. I’ll be right up.
His answer is instantaneous.
Asher Isaacs: Good.
This is clearly not a man who is used to waiting. He’s a man used to people jumping when he says jump. And he’s letting me know that I didn’t jump quickly enough.
Oops.
My heart pounds as I take the elevator up to the senior partner floor. It’s obvious that Asher is trying to exert some sort of power play over me, and I can only imagine what he has in store for me when I get to his office.
If what the Barbies say is true, then he expects me do more for him than write research memos. Will he bend me over the desk and spank me? Does he have a bookcase that turns into some torture device or leads to a secret love den?
I blush at my thoughts. I want to laugh at their ridiculousness but I also have no idea what to expect. I can feel my panties dampening a bit, and I can’t believe I’m getting turned on by thoughts of what my boss and new mentor could do to me.
But they’re just thoughts, I remind myself, as the elevator door opens and I head to his office. And they’re natural. He’s older, powerful and really fucking hot, to boot. And it’s not like my love life has been on fire any time recently.
I can’t help but feel lucky that the mysterious man I’d spent this morning masturbating over is now calling me to his office for some sort of intrigue.
Sold as a Fake Fiancee: A Virgin and a Billionaire Romance Page 15
