by Juniper Hart
He whipped his head around and gazed at her, his blue eyes piercing into hers. “Why are you arguing with me?” he snarled. “I’m in the middle of something here and I don’t want you breathing down my neck.”
Hurt covered her pale face, and Marcus almost apologized, but he caught himself. She knew better than to be reading over his shoulder when trade secrets were at risk. He shouldn’t even be looking at those documents here.
None of what he was reading made a great deal of sense, and he wondered if he was tired or if he was growing stupid in his old age.
You’re hundreds of years old. Maybe it’s time to retire, he thought wryly, sitting back to rub his eyes.
“Tavia?” he called.
Instantly, she reappeared. “Yes, hon?”
“Make me a triple espresso,” he told her, and she nodded eagerly.
“Of course.” As she sashayed to the kitchen, Marcus found himself staring after her, a too-short robe barely covering her full rear. They had made love earlier, but his mind had not been in it, and he wasn’t even certain she had climaxed. He wasn’t convinced he had, either.
Under normal circumstances, he would be appalled to have left his lover unfulfilled, but he found he didn’t care as much as he should have. He realized he was getting bored with Tavia.
It wasn’t surprising. She had been with him for four years, and while she was a pleasant girl with a very capable mouth, nothing was remarkable about her. Still, there was no reason to dismiss her—not yet. Once upon a time, he had found something appealing about the thin redhead, and she had been a good companion. She wasn’t too old, and she played well with the others.
Women like her were becoming harder and harder to find.
His mind flittered to Lisanne and he shook his head. Why couldn’t they simply enjoy the life he offered them? Most women would kill to be in their positions. No, Tavia gave him no problems. She was a fine pastime, even if she was slightly dull and needed encouragement in the bedroom.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tavia purred from the kitchen, purposely allowing her robe to fall open, exposing her nude frame underneath.
Marcus asked the question even before he noticed it had popped into his head.
“How is Addison working out?”
Tavia’s strawberry blonde hair fell forward to cover her profile as she dug through a drawer for a spoon. “She seems lovely,” the receptionist answered. “Eager and sweet.”
Marcus nodded, turning his attention back to the screen.
“She is sweet,” he agreed, his tired eyes examining the words again. I’ll have to email this to Melissa, he thought, shaking his head. She would be able to make sense of the details that evaded him. She was good at that kind of thing.
Melissa held a master’s degree from Columbia in Business Administration, and over the years, she had proven herself invaluable to him. Of all the mistresses Marcus had known, she was the one who knew the most about him, and at first that had alarmed him. There were things that needed to stay hidden at all costs, but that was why the women had their own apartments and never came to his home.
Except for Addison, though that had been a necessary exception. If Georges had not almost run her over with the limo…
Over time, however, Marcus saw how necessary it was to have an ally, and Melissa had earned his trust. Still, he did not invite her to his personal home, but he did allow her more personal information than anyone.
The distance between him and his family sometimes proved disheartening. It was not as if Marcus was estranged from his brothers. He simply did not see them with the frequency he had in previous centuries. They had grown apart since the time they had spent in Misty Woods, ruling under King Rui.
The closest thing he had to friends were the women, each one of them unique in their own way and attractive to him for different reasons.
If Marcus had believed in such a thing, he would say that he loved them, but he knew that love was only a mishmash of chemical imbalances that resulted in foolishness. He had always been of sound mind and would not fall victim to such treachery.
Even so, he had a certain affection for the women.
Tavia placed the espresso before him on the table and went to sit on his lap, but Marcus shifted so that she was unable to do so.
“I am just emailing Melissa and then I will come to bed,” he assured her. “Go and keep my side warm.”
She nodded and retreated to the bedroom as Marcus forwarded the account information to his assistant and took a long sip of the freshly-brewed coffee. He rose, stretching, his mind still in a flurry. He supposed he could try for round two, though he didn’t think he had it in him. Would it technically be round one?
But as he entered the darkened bedroom, he saw Tavia sprawled naked on her back, waiting to be taken, and he was again struck by the same thought he’d had earlier.
“Coming to bed?” she breathed sensuously, her green eyes wide with hope. She was lackluster, for certain, but in that light, she looked remarkably like Addison, and Addison was anything but tiresome. If he could convince himself that this was Addison instead of Tavia, perhaps…
Marcus felt a tug in his boxers, and he smiled broadly. “I am.”
Tatiana Dupris entered Marcus’ office without knocking, Erica hot on her heels. He glanced up at her in surprise as Erica breathlessly tried to apologize for the untimely arrival.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Williams, she—”
“Marcus, we need to talk,” Tatiana said flatly, cutting off the receptionist. “Alone.” She looked pointedly at Melissa and Addison, her dark eyes constricting.
“We’re busy,” Marcus replied evenly, turning his gaze back to his computer, but the CFO did not move.
“It’s important,” she said from between clenched teeth.
“I told you, I am making the necessary cuts. There is no need for theatrics, Tatiana.”
“This is not about that.”
Marcus eyed her through his peripheral vision, reading something he had never seen on her face. It wasn’t simply another budget exasperation. Something else was on her mind.
He glanced at Melissa and Addy, nodding. They rose from their respective desks in unison and sauntered out of the office, Melissa casting Tatiana a long look before she followed her co-worker out into the hallway. Erica stood looking uncomfortable, but Marcus waved her off as well.
When the door closed in Erica’s wake, Tatiana’s saturnine eyebrows raised as her steel blue eyes met his unwavering gaze.
“Who’s the new one?” she demanded. “I thought we agreed that you didn’t need any more assistants or secretaries or concubines or… whatever the hell it is you call them.”
Marcus grunted. “What do you want, Tatiana? I’m up to my ears trying to understand the Lingergram account. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, too. There’s a discrepancy in the numbers.”
“The numbers?” Marcus repeated. “I’m talking about the wording of this contract. It says we own the company, but they still control their own board. If we have absorbed the company, how do they have a board?”
“That’s why you have a floor full of lawyer’s downstairs, Marcus,” she answered. “Let them sort that out. This is something else.”
He squinted at her balefully. “I know you always believe your job is the most important, Tatiana, but—”
“There’s money missing from the takeover.”
Marcus froze and stared at her. “What do you mean there’s money missing? How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
He sat back in his chair, making a steeple of his fingers, and began to laugh.
“Ten grand?” he echoed. “Are you kidding me? This is the cause of your melodrama?”
Tatiana’s face scrunched into a scowl. “It’s not much, but it’s still unaccounted for, and I want to know where it is!” she snapped.
Marcus rolled his eyes.
“You a fully co
mpetent team of accountants, Tatiana,” he replied. “That’s what they’re there for. Why are you even bringing this to me?”
Her mouth became a line of anger. “Because you’re the CEO,” she snarled, “and I thought you might be interested in knowing what is happening in your office.”
“For ten grand? I just made ten grand in the amount of time you’ve been standing in my office!” he snapped.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Tatiana spat, spinning to leave him alone. “No wonder you surround yourself with whores. You’re as empty as all of them.”
Fury flooded Marcus, but he remained in his spot impassively. “I have whores and you have numbers. I have a feeling I’m a little bit warmer at night than you are.”
Tatiana didn’t respond, her heels clicking down the hall like a ricochet of bullets.
She’s lonely and pathetic, and taking it out on me, Marcus though, willing himself to be calm. Screw her. I’ve got more important matters to worry about than Tatiana’s hard-on for accounting.
If he hadn’t been so angry, he would’ve realized he actually appreciated the gesture. Catching such a miniscule discrepancy in a multi-billion-dollar, multinational company was not an easy feat.
The sound of heels again made him raise his head, and Marcus watched as Melissa and Addison walked back into the office.
“What was that about?” Melissa asked, but he shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said, glancing at Addison, who immediately took her seat and returned to her computer. “Did you get the contract I sent you last night?” he asked Melissa. “The Lingergram account?”
She creased her brow and nodded. “I did, and you’re right. It’s weird. I think that they’re trying to pull a fast—”
“Addison,” Marcus interrupted, “can you get me a triple espresso?” He looked at Melissa warningly, and she immediately closed her mouth. Addison rose and left the office again without a word.
“Sorry,” Melissa said. “I thought you trusted her with this, since she is working so closely.”
Marcus slightly narrowed his eyes. Did she sound resentful? It didn’t matter; he didn’t have time for that. The company always came first.
“You believe that they are trying to maintain control somehow?”
“I do,” she responded. “But I can’t understand how they did it. Our lawyers have combed through it over and over. I mean, I suppose it could be an honest mistake…”
Marcus could tell she believed no such thing.
“I’ll have an outside party look it over,” he sighed. “But it’s too late. The money is in escrow.”
“Let me handle it,” Melissa said, and Marcus eyed her gratefully as Addison returned with his drink in hand.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling at her.
Addison offered him a short curve of her lips, which did not quite reach a smile. A pang of uneasiness struck him as she returned to her chair. Why did she seem to be so uncomfortable? Was she hiding something from him so he wouldn’t worry?
She’s fine, he told himself. I’ll go to her tonight. She is probably still overwhelmed by the change. I’ll see if I can help her along with the transition.
6
Addison idly flipped through the channels on the television, her mind not on anything she was seeing. She could not shut her mind off and she knew exactly why; she was severely under stimulated.
The past three weeks had been a combination of fascination and boredom.
On the one hand, Addison wanted for nothing. She lived in a stunning apartment in the heart of the city, received a generous paycheck, and enjoyed a life of luxury while working minimally. Marcus came to her at least once a week, their relationship stronger than ever, their lovemaking reaching heights she had not even read about in books.
Some mornings, she woke up as the south sunlight streamed through the pristine glass of her bedroom, and she pinched herself because she couldn’t believe she was the same person she had been two months earlier. At the same time, she could see that her job was nothing more than a cover for being a kept woman.
The stigma that was associated with those words bothered Addison more than she wanted to admit, as if her mother was in her head, wagging her finger in reproval. In fact, Addison had not even told her family that she had moved yet, and she had done well in avoiding both her mother and sister’s phone calls with texts and emails.
One day, she thought miserably, they’re going to learn that I’m living in a swanky address in the city, and I will have to explain how I got here.
But that was only one of the problems. Mostly, Addison was plagued by a mounting dissatisfaction that her life was stagnating, and that dissatisfaction was accompanied by guilt she could not shake.
You were a waitress in a diner, she reminded herself. You dealt with idiot drunks and obnoxious high school kids every day. What are you pining for?
Yet Addison knew perfectly well what she missed: the feeling of purpose she’d had running around after eight hours and leaving the restaurant spotless. She longed for the banter of her co-workers and the friendliness they had shared.
Addison hit the power button on her remote control, silencing the television before reaching for her cell.
What are you doing? she texted Olivia.
She watched to see if her friend was going to respond, but the message remained unread for a few seconds. Sighing, Addison flopped back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, half-admiring the intricate wainscoting along the ceiling.
Suddenly, the phone rang, causing her to jump, and she snatched it up, pressing the device to her ear. “Olivia?”
“Your ears must have been ringing!” Olivia gushed. “Ramon and I were just talking about you!”
“Yeah?” Addison replied, a warm flush of happiness settling through her at her words. “What is that jackass saying?”
“He says he’s glad you’re gone,” Olivia joked, laughing. “But I told him that we could use your smiling face around this hellhole.”
Addison smiled.
“I miss you guys too,” she sighed. “How’s everything going over there?”
“Well, Vera and Jenn just quit to go back to school, so I’m working doubles.”
“John hasn’t hired anyone to replace them? He does this every year!” Addison said.
Olivia chuckled. “Then you know he hasn’t.”
The wheels in Addison’s mind began to turn. “Is he in tomorrow?” she asked. “At opening time?”
“I think so,” Olivia answered. “Why? You coming back?” Her tone was jesting, but Addison was nodding, even though Olivia couldn’t possibly see her.
“Yes,” she said without hesitating. “I am.”
Olivia laughed again. “Did you get fired from your job as the billionaire’s plaything already?”
Addison bristled, her jaw clenching. “I am not a plaything, Olivia. Marcus offered me a great opportunity, and I couldn’t say no.”
“I was just kidding, Addy,” her friend replied, and Addison could hear the surprise in her tone. “Of course, you should have taken the job. You deserve much more than toting beers to the scrag that walks in here. I’m surprised you want to come back. Is everything okay?”
Addison was silent for a moment, wondering why she had been so defensive.
It’s true, she realized. I feel like I’m being paid to sleep with Marcus. But it’s not like that. We’ve been together a year, and he cares about me. Even Tavia says he likes me better than any of the others, or else I wouldn’t be in this apartment.
It was such a strange situation, and while Marcus had assured her that she would grow accustomed to things, it seemed that the more time passed, the more confused she became—the less she felt accustomed to the changes in her life. The other women were not her friends, expect perhaps Tavia, who went out of her way to say hello and chit chat.
For the most part, though, Addison was alone. She only had Marcus to confide in, but it wasn’t enough—especially know
ing that he could cast her aside at any minute. He was a great listener, and when they were together, his attention was completely on her. However, Addison could not let go of the feeling that something was missing.
“Addy? Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” she replied. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“I really didn’t mean to upset you,” Olivia continued. “And if you’re thinking about coming back, I’m sure John would be thrilled.”
“I will call him in the morning,” Addison agreed. Her mind was made up. “Warn Ramon.”
“No one will be happier than him,” her friend told her, giggling. “But I won’t say anything until I know it’s happening. I wouldn’t want to get his hopes up.”
“Addy?”
Addison’s head whipped up as she heard Marcus in the foyer. “I’ll talk to you later, Olivia. Marcus just got in.”
“Lucky bitch,” Olivia groaned. “Think of me when his filthy rich body is ravaging yours.”
“Not a chance,” Addison replied, laughing. “Bye.”
She disconnected the call as Marcus entered the sunken living room, holding a briefcase in his hand.
“Hey!” she called, rising to her knees to greet him with a kiss. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“Who were you talking to?” Marcus asked, dropping his briefcase on the coffee table.
“Olivia. You remember her? She worked at the diner with me?”
His blue eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, yes. The loud one who took no sass from the customers.”
Addison laughed, falling onto the sofa as he sat beside her. “That’s the one.”
Marcus studied her face pensively.
“You are still in contact with your friends?” he asked, and Addison felt her brow furrow.
“Of course,” she replied sharply. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Marcus’ eyes widened at her tone, which made her bite her lip. He hadn’t implied she shouldn’t be in touch with her friends, why had she snapped at him like that?
“You should be,” Marcus said in agreement, his voice soft. “I just can’t help but feel that you are slightly melancholy lately. Perhaps you should have a party and invite your friends here to show off your new place.”
