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 Marks, 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 Marks, 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 reMark, “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. Marks 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 Marks: Did you read my note?
My fingers hover above the mouse, nervous to answer.
Madilyn St. Clair: Yes.
Asher Marks: 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 orientation 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 Marks: 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.
I take a breath, and knock on Asher’s office door.
“It’s unlocked,” he says. “Come in.”
Unlocked?
Who has a lock on their office door?
Apparently Asher Marks.
As I step into his office, I realize he has a lot of things that other lawyers at the firm don’t.
For one thing, his office is much larger than any other office I’ve seen in the firm. It has the best view of the Sandia Mountains. It boasts a large screen TV. A leather couch and recliner. A Mad Men-style bar, a golf practice area and stacks of weights and kettle bars.
When I finally focus my gaze on him, as he sits behind his large mahogany desk, he’s still looking down at his work.
“Madilyn. Come in.”
He waves his hand at me, still without looking up.
I obediently take a few steps forward.
“Wait,” he says, holding up a finger. “Please close and lock my door first.”
I pause.
“It’s my office policy,” he says. “You’re to do it every time.”
“Yes, Mr. Marks.”
I close the door, and then lock it.
“Call me Boss,” he says.
He’s got to be kidding, I think.
But when I turn towards him again he’s finally looking at me with a sincere expression on his handsome face.
His brown eyes stare into mine in a way that seems as if he can see through me. He smells musty and masculine as if he’s been outdoors. His office smells like wood.
“Yes, Boss.”
I hope I don’t blush as I say it.
I have to admit to myself that it feels exciting.
“Okay good. Now come over here to my desk. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter 13 – Asher
Madilyn St. Clair is finally in my office.
And I can’t tell whether she’s happy about it or not.
Damn it. Leave it to me to pick a mysterious one. But the mysterious ones often turn out to be the best ones. They just seem to test my patience along the way.
I notice her tense, yet still eager posture as she approaches my desk.
I don’t like that she fucking ignored the instructions in my note. She was supposed to come right to my office afte
r orientation ended.
I’ve done my due diligence. I know all about her. Down to the fact that she was dating a wimpy store manager but judging by her Facebook page, she wasn’t very into him. According to Facebook they also broke up recently, which I knew would happen.
But they have a tendency to get back together.
That will change, I’m sure of it. I demand complete loyalty and devotion.
I know better than to give up any power. That’s when a woman thinks she can walk all over a man. The minute he lets down his guard.
Something about Madilyn told me she’d be a challenge. Probably the way she wasn’t “one of them”— the summer associates— but became one of them by the time it mattered; by the time the firm was handing out permanent offers.
Maybe by the way she seems so focused and dedicated. It’s as if she doesn’t care to even pretend to be like the rest.
I can tell I’ve got my work cut out for me. I need to keep close track of her.
I ordered the construction on the wing of the associate floor that contains Madilyn’s office before she was scheduled to start work. I knew there would be no choice for anyone to put her anywhere else but in the paralegal’s cubicle section, which, ever since a data breach in a big case a few years ago, has a video- monitored security system and also has keyloggers installed on the computers.
I have her right where I want her. Where I can see her, where I can watch her, where I can know what she’s doing and— to the best of my ability— what she’s thinking.
And where I knew to walk by this morning and find a reason to chastise her. I knew that made her fucking hot. I could see her cheeks flush and hear her breath quicken.
I know that after I walked away she went to the bathroom, even though she thinks I had stopped watching her by then. I bet she couldn’t help but play with her undoubtedly beautiful little pussy while she thought about my huge cock fucking her in and out for the very first time.
Just Pretend Page 24
