SEXT ME

by Layla Valentine

  It’s not that I enjoy putting people out of work, it’s just business. Some people can’t cut it, and I find it’s better to lay them off before they spend too many years in an unfitting position.

  Simply put, I have an empire to build, and someday, I hope to have someone to pass this empire down to. If I were ever to have a child, I don’t want to regret putting some stranger’s needs above my own, and then it coming back to bite me in the ass.

  I’m known for taking care of myself, and only myself. It’s not entirely true, as I do care deeply for my closest employees and business partners—they just might not see it as an act of love when I force them to work extra hours to meet their full potential. There’s nothing worse, in my eyes, than wasted potential. My life motto is never half-ass something—always put your entire being into that which you’re passionate about.

  Then, of course, we have the matter of my life outside of the office. To say I’ve never dated wouldn’t be awfully far from the truth, though I’ve had my share of bed partners. Dating implies that there is some deeper emotion involved, which is rarely the case. If I don’t have time for friends, what would I be thinking to pursue a romantic involvement?

  Sex is one thing, and I make it very clear to my partners that I’m only seeking a physical connection. The idea of someday falling in love is almost unfathomable to me.

  “I’m just going to fire the dunce. He ruined my chances to strike a deal with RealtoCo. Human resource officers are supposed to score deals for me, right? Not totally blow them out of the water.”

  Mark sighs, and I realize I’ve largely tuned out his tirade. Humming under my breath, I glance through my open door towards my receptionist’s desk. Best that I wrap up this conversation; I have more pressing matters to attend to for the time being.

  “If you feel that firing the man is the best course of action, Mark, I suggest you follow your gut. Human resource officers are a dime a dozen. But, if he’s served you well in the past…maybe you owe it to him to reconsider,” I offer, glancing towards the ticking clock. It’s a matter of minutes before my next appointment steps in, and it would be rude for me to still be on the phone when my next potential employee steps into my office.

  “Ah, Dillon. That’s the trouble. Chad’s served me well in the past; he just didn’t agree with RealtoCo’s policies. He seemed to think that the CEO would force too many changes on the company, and I wouldn’t like where we ended up. This could have been the deal of a lifetime, but…it’s not really entirely his fault, you know? I’ve always asserted that I don’t like my decisions to be second-guessed, and Chad was sure this guy wouldn’t be up to snuff,” Mark sighs.

  Before I can come up with a way to wrap up the conversation, my secretary steps towards my door and motions towards one of the meeting rooms. Rising from my chair, I try to think of how to tie off the loose ends as I make my way to the room in which the interview will take place.

  I tap my finger thoughtfully against my chin, and Mark seems to be eagerly awaiting my instruction. For someone who likes to take charge, he seems surprisingly willing to take my advice. Full disclosure: I don’t really know the best course of action. I’ve met Chad Rethers before, and he seems to be an all-around good employee.

  As I step in for the interview, I’m immediately struck by how gorgeous the woman is. Though I saw her picture in the application she’d sent, I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of her brilliant green eyes. She watches me with an awestruck expression, and for a moment, I can’t help but think she may be as attracted to me as I am to her. It’s a fleeting sensation, however, and her expression sours as she notices I’m on the phone. The clock is ticking, and I need to seal these deals.

  “Mark, listen. Give Chad another chance. From the sounds of it, he was just looking out for the longevity of your company. You have to be careful with who you choose to partner up with. The RealtoCo CEO could see the entirety of your staff fired, if he wanted. Deals like that often crop up in this business, and it isn’t pretty,” I say softly, though the woman seems to be absorbing every word.

  She watches me with a faintly bitter smile, and I can’t help feeling as if I’ve seen her somewhere before.

  “You’re right. I’ll let him plead his case, maybe dock his pay a bit. If he doesn’t stick around, it just shows where his loyalties lie,” Mark replies. “All right. I’ll let you go. I need to go discuss another possible merger, and Chad better not mess this one up,” he continues. I bid him a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone.

  For such a small business, Mark seems particularly interested in merging his with other companies. Personally, I’d have waited until I had a bit more leverage before starting my takeovers, but I can’t expect everyone to follow the same path.

  For now, I need to focus on this beautiful woman who sits perfectly poised in front of me. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, and she’s wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans. A daring move, considering most would have dressed in business attire for the interview. However, I’m also well aware that she had received the call rather abruptly, and Tiffany had been insistent that she come for the interview as soon as she was available.

  “Yes, hello. You are Charlotte Law, yes?” I greet her, sitting opposite her and folding my hands on the table between us.

  She regards me carefully, and there’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite pinpoint. A bit of disdain, perhaps, or maybe she’s still mesmerized by me. It’s hard to discern at the moment.

  “Indeed. I was told to come in as soon as possible for an interview. I was expecting to speak to a human resources officer, or perhaps the woman who phoned me…” She trails off, fidgeting nervously.

  I smile, attempting to keep my expression as warm as possible. She watches me carefully, seeming to forcefully school her expression into a smile.

  “But it’s…” She pauses, seeming strained. “It is an honor to meet you,” she manages, though it’s obvious the words couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Wondering what this woman may have against me, I find myself growing annoyed. Truthfully, her application was the first we’d received, and thusly the first I’d looked at. She seemed to fit the job well enough, but it’s obvious that her attitude could use some improvement.

  Perhaps the swift callback has given her a big ego. If that’s the case, I have no problem knocking her down a few pegs. While I like to make my permanent employees feel valued, she’s just a simple maid. That is, she will be a simple maid, if she plays her cards right.

  “Ah, yes. It’s nice to meet you as well, Miss Law. Yours was the first application I received, so I thought it appropriate to give you a timely interview. Your experience seemed to check out, but I haven’t gone through the verification process yet. I suppose I’ve invited you to my place of business to get a feel if you’ll be a good fit,” I explain, rising to my feet and slowly circling around the table.

  She looks uncomfortable, the faintest dusting of a blush reddening her cheeks.

  “I assure you, Mr. Bradshaw, that this job would mean the world to me,” she says, seeming earnest for the first time, though her flushed cheeks and aversion to meeting my gaze make me wonder if she may want more than just a job from me. It’s something to consider at a later date, possibly. I cross my arms over my chest as I consider her for a moment.

  “It would be rather pointless to sort through a dozen other applications when it seems you’d be a fine fit for the job. I can’t fault you on your punctuality. Your response was swift, as well as your arrival to my office. Can I expect the same when you are to report to your job?” I inquire, keeping my voice firm yet quiet. I want her to have to strain just slightly to hear me; I want to be certain she is fixed on my every word.

  She leans in, her hands clasped in her lap.

  “I am nothing if not punctual, Mr. Bradshaw. Truth be told, I’ve been between jobs for a while now, so it would be a relief to have a steady workplace, at least for some period of time. Since I was—”
she pauses, seeming to rethink her words. “Since I resigned from my full-time job two years ago, I’ve been struggling to find the right fit. I hope that I can find that here, with you,” she admits.

  At the very least, she seems sincere. It’s a bit hard to judge with this woman. Her brilliant green eyes shine brightly, but reveal nothing regarding her deeper thoughts.

  “For every door that closes, a window of opportunity opens, Miss Law. I’d like to offer you a trial period, and once you’ve been working for me for some time, we’ll discuss longer-term options. My employees are all compensated at competitive rates for the industry, and you’ll find that the work won’t be too difficult. After all, I tend to keep things rather tidy around here.”

  She averts her gaze, and I swear I see her roll her eyes. What is this woman’s deal? It’s unusual for me not to be able to immediately figure someone out.

  “That’s good to know. I have faith that you do right by your employees, Mr. Bradshaw. After all, you’re one of the most notorious finance moguls in the world,” she says with a sly smile.

  I hesitate, considering my words. I’m not sure if she’s trying to flatter me, but if she is, I’m ashamed to say that it’s working. There’s simply one more matter to resolve, and this will test just how much this beautiful woman wants the job.

  “Please, Mr. Bradshaw was my father. Call me Dillon,” I say warmly, and she nods. “There is just one more thing that we need to discuss. If you want it, I want to be clear that the job is yours. The rest is just a few minor technicalities.”

  She rolls her eyes again, as if she thinks I can’t see. Then, she turns to face me head-on, fixing me with an intense stare.

  “Mr. Bradshaw—” She pauses at my critical look before correcting herself. “Dillon, I’m quite sure there is nothing that could make me turn down this job at this point. If it’s a matter of cleaning toilets or other work you may find me unsuitable for, I assure you it won’t be an issue,” she asserts.

  I find myself rather liking her tenacious attitude, in spite of the disdain she seems to hold towards me.

  “Very well. For the sake of disclosure, however…” I trail off, watching her expression with a quirk of my lips. I have a feeling she won’t particularly like the caveat I’m about to present, but I’m also confident that she won’t show any signs of weakness, at the rate we’ve been going. I drag the moment on for as long as possible, watching for any signs of anxiety. She simply narrows her eyes, crossing her arms.

  “Dillon, please. Just spit it out,” she huffs.

  I can’t help but chuckle, leaning forward to close the distance between us. For a brief moment, I’m caught in the intense glimmer of her emerald green eyes. I almost forget what I’m about to divulge, and potentially ruin this new working relationship by grabbing her and kissing her then and there.

  Almost.

  Chapter Three

  Charlotte

  I can’t help but wonder what Dillon is holding back from telling me, though I suspect he’s merely prone to dramatics. I watch him with pursed lips, trying to convince myself that the long-term of this potential job will pay off. As much as I’d like to tell him to go screw himself, I can only hope there will be more opportunities to properly embarrass him once I have access to his place of work.

  It’s obvious that he’s holding something back, though I’m not quite sure what. I can only wonder what big reveal he expects to knock my socks off with, but I don’t expect it to be particularly surprising.

  The man seems rather absorbed in considering my expression, which I keep closed and blank for both my benefit and his. He rests a hand on the arm of my chair, curling his lips into an all-knowing, catlike smile. While I think he’s less impressive than he likes to give himself credit for, I can’t help but get caught up in that intense gaze he fixes upon me.

  His ocean blue eyes seem as deep as the Pacific Ocean, holding a depth that man alone could never hope to fathom. It’s obvious that he intends to capture me in the deep and consuming grasp of his gaze, but I’m not so easily snared.

  “Well, there’s a small matter that we need to discuss before you agree to take this job,” he murmurs, and I fight not to roll my eyes a third time.

  While I realize I’ve seemed rather unimpressed by his prior assertions, I also know that it would do my cause little good to dismiss him entirely. All the same, I can’t help but exhale a soft and derisive snort. As far as I’ve come, he can’t expect that I would drop this job so easily—no matter what he outlines as the job requirements.

  “I’ve already agreed to take the job. Small matter or not, you’ll find that I’ll not be easily swayed, Mr. Bradshaw,” I say bluntly.

  His lips quirk in a smile that seems almost mischievous, and he draws away to fully consider me. I feel inclined to draw away from his stare, but I remain calmly poised. I meet his gaze, raising a brow daringly.

  “It’s simply regarding your expectations for this particular line of employment.” He pauses as I move to interrupt him, holding up a hand to halt me. “I imagine, upon receiving information regarding this job, you expected to be cleaning the SharkTEC Financial offices. Am I particularly off base with this assumption?”

  Uncertainty creeps up within me, and I can’t help but scrutinize him.

  “If I’m to be working as a maid under your employment, it would only make sense that I’ll be cleaning your place of work,” I say coolly, resisting the desire to snap at him.

  As foolish as this line of thinking seems to be, I can’t imagine that he would be leading me in this direction for no reason. There’s obviously something deeper to this job he’s managed to capture me within, and in spite of myself, I can’t deny my eagerness to see in what direction our conversation will turn. He considers me with a wry smile as I try to discern what topsy-turvy direction he could be leading me in.

  “That would make sense, I suppose, but wouldn’t that qualify as a more janitorial position? To work as a maid implies that you would be cleaning a home, would it not?” he counters.

  I narrow my eyes at him, unable to deny the shivers that the implication sends shooting up my spine. He can’t mean…there’s no way he would hire me to clean his actual home. As far as I’m aware, Dillon Bradshaw allows only a select few into his house. It seems unfathomable that he would hire me to clean his home with so little information regarding my past.

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Mr. Bradshaw,” I tell him, arms crossed defensively.

  He seems all the more delighted by my obliviousness, and it’s all I can do to keep from bolting from the room as he draws nearer to me. He rests a hand on the back of my chair, just above my left shoulder, and I watch him with an unamused expression.

  “Then let me spell it out for you, Miss Law, seeing as you seem so intent upon playing dumb. I don’t need any further aid in cleaning my offices. You’ll find that I’m rather well staffed in the janitorial division. You will play a much more important role; I need a personal maid, for my home. I know that’s not what you may have expected when applying, but you seem to be rather flexible regarding what’s required of you,” he explains.

  In spite of myself, trepidation wells up within me. I’m not particularly enthralled by the idea of entering his home for any reason, let alone to clean up his dirty laundry.

  I struggle to come up with a reason to decline the position, but I can’t deny that the pros seem to far outweigh the cons. It’s a simple enough job, assuming he’s akin to the usual wealthy homeowners that I usually work for. He likely owns some ridiculously priced penthouse apartment.

  “You could have been upfront to begin with, Mr. Bradshaw. Your hesitation leads me to believe there’s a reason you didn’t outright tell me that I would be cleaning your home. Are you expecting to have a specific sort of care, the likes of which you couldn’t reasonably list on a normal job posting?” I ask, meeting his gaze with a bored look. It wouldn’t be the first time some rich bastard hired me under the premise of an innocen
t job, only to expect me to suck his cock at any given command.

  Dillon’s eyes widen in shock at the insinuation, and I struggle to smother a laugh as he sputters incoherently. He shakes his head fervently, circling back towards his original position, the table providing a stable barrier between us. He laces his fingers on the tabletop, watching me with an expression that’s torn between indignity and surprise.

  “Miss Law, I assure you that my intentions are nothing if not pure. I’ve skirted the subject, as it’s likely unfamiliar for you to be offered such a prestigious job in the actual home of an employer. While I have no doubt that you’ve worked in the cleaning industry before…” He pauses, looking somewhat haughty, “I’m also certain you’ve never been offered such a privileged position. I wouldn’t ask just anyone to clean my home. There is a certain measure of confidentiality in this position, and I expect you to maintain an air of professionalism while under my employment,” he states firmly.

  I can’t help but smile, as it’s quite obvious I’ve hit a nerve.

  “Oh, Mr. Bradshaw, I assure you that I plan to keep this discreet. You wouldn’t be the first man of wealth that I’ve worked for; I understand that you have things you may want to keep private, and I certainly respect that. Now, if that’s all that stands to be discussed, I do believe we can carry on with the arrangements,” I say blithely, standing and offering my hand with a confident smile.

  He hesitates for the briefest of moments before gripping my hand in his own, giving it a firm shake. His grip lingers on my hand for a moment, and he meets my gaze with a rather curious look.

  As his ocean blue eyes lock upon my own, I can only wonder what he seeks to find in my stare. I’m certain he has no clue about my intent to ruin him, but there’s obviously something giving him pause as our eyes meet.

  He draws his hand away slowly, the pads of his fingertips brushing against my skin as he pulls away. He tilts his head curiously, keeping his gaze fixed firmly upon my own.