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I didn't hide my annoyance. "You know, for a man that rails on about discretion and not making decisions with my dick, you’re pretty cavalier about following your own.”
Carl let out a hearty laugh and almost clapped me on the shoulder until he saw that I didn’t mean it as some sort of compliment. The arm dropped immediately back to his side and he rushed to button his jacket, stepping back into the role that I paid him a small fortune to play.
“I have all the contract work we discussed. The full background check is still pending.” When I arched an eyebrow with disappointment, he held out out his hands. “I’m good, Jacob, but a full, thorough background check in less than 8 hours is pushing it.” He knelt to retrieve his briefcase and patted the outside like he was carrying precious cargo. “If it helps, she doesn’t have a criminal record. In fact, she doesn’t have a spot anywhere, not even a parking ticket.”
I felt a strange rash of pride. Of course she doesn’t. Not Leila. Though if I was honest, even if she had a rap sheet as long as my arm, I wouldn’t have walked away. After spending yesterday afternoon trying to talk myself out of the way I felt about her and the desire to do this right, I succumbed and gave Carl a call.
I led the way to my office. “So, if you didn’t find anything-”
“Yet,” Carl interjected.
I didn’t appreciate it. “Why are you here?”
The man sank into the chair like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I hoped I could convince you to see reason.”
I saddled the man with the most incredulous look I could muster. “Excuse me?”
“All this-” He nodded at the briefcase. “With the headache the actress is giving us right now, is it really a good idea to begin a new-” He wisely paused so he could choose the right descriptor. One that wouldn’t have me tossing him from my office. “Arrangement?”
I knew he didn’t mean to offend. The world I crafted behind closed doors was difficult for vanilla minded people to grasp, but my hackles were raised regardless.
“When I need you to counsel me on my needs, I’ll let you know. What I need from you is an updated non-disclosure agreement.” I stalked to my desk. “If it’s ready, I’ll take it, and you can go back to trying to woo my secretary.”
He wasted no more of my time, pulling out the USB with the files and pressing it into my desk. He rose, annoyance floundering in his round cheeks, but his voice was cordial. “It seems I’m no longer required.” He held out his hand and I shook it.
He left without another word and Natasha filed in behind him, holding my coffee and a concerned look.
“Not that I’m complaining, but he booked it out of here in a hurry.”
“A lawyer’s work is never done,” I cracked, a smile creeping onto my lips.
Natasha’s pale eyes widened, my coffee hovering mid-air. “Was that a joke, Mr. Whitmore?”
I glanced up at her with a frown, but it faltered when I realized that it was. And I’d even thrown a smile in for good measure. Two things I rarely did at work. Or anywhere.
I cleared my throat and waited for her to leave before I plugged in Leila’s info.
Just seeing the contract, ripe and ready for her signature, was enough to make my cock swell with excitement. I glanced at the clock and pushed back from my desk. She should be well into her first day, with no idea that I had a position that she was much better suited for.
My assistant...and my submissive.
The elevator ride down I thought of her, wondering how her curls would fall today. Anxious to see the look on her face when I told her that she was being promoted. The look in her eyes when I asked her to be my submissive.
I punched the button for the research and development floor. The indifferent part of me, the voice that asked me what the hell I was doing, was close to inaudible. I knew all the legal and professional reasons this arrangement was a bad idea, but I couldn’t ignore this pull...and I knew she felt it too.
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been to R & D. The woman who headed the department, Christy, ruled with an iron fist. I had no qualms because R&D was essentially the oil that greased the machine. When I stepped out of the elevator and paused in the doorway of the mailroom, I saw a rail thin girl biting her nails to nubs in the corner, tossing apprehensive looks around her like she was waiting to be yelled at for doing something wrong. When she saw me, she nearly fainted.
I had my eye on someone else, scanning the buzzing room until my eyes found her.
Leila.
Her curly brown locks were pulled into a bun that rested near the nape of her neck. She wore a blush colored blouse that matched the flush in her cheeks.
She and Christy stood at a wall lined with LCD screens. I watched the bug eyed, black haired woman shuffle toward her boss, probably announcing me. I wanted to tell her that wasn’t necessary. At the moment, I was just enjoying watching Leila hold her own with the cold woman.
“I know it looks complicated,” Christy was in the zone, her full attention on letting Leila know who was in charge. “But it certainly doesn’t take an Ivy League education to figure it out.”
The black haired girl glanced at me, then leaned toward Christy. “Uh, Mrs. Moore-”
