When it came to teams, I’d never had one, never been a part of one. I’d always worked alone yet was excited to try my hand in an environment where I’d be surrounded by other people who were probably ‘a bit out there’ there just like I was.
And teaming up with Mr. Steele might lead to anxiety medication, but it could also lead me to living up to my maximum potential. Despite his demeanor, there’s something about him that called to a part of me I never knew I had.
That line about divine intervention would have seemed corny coming from anyone else but him. He’s not one to mince words or tell you what you want to hear, or at least it sure doesn’t seem that way. There was something about the way he said it that made me believe, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was hoping he could help me believe in myself a bit more.
I take a deep breath and enter the building which bears his name, catching more than a few looks when I press the ‘P’ button for penthouse.
The moment I do, one guy looks at his watch and his eyes open wide and his head pulls back, almost as if the whole building knows about Mr. Steele’s rules about timeliness.
Just before the man gets off his head tilts slightly my way. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to…” My words fade off as he’s long gone down his floor and the elevator swallows me back up, skyrocketing me to the top floor.
The ding almost sounds like that sound you hear at the top of amusement park rides like there’s a pin being pulled, and then you race to your death, or at least that’s how it feels.
I take a deep breath and before I can even exhale, before I have my back foot out of the elevator, the receptionist says, “Mr. Steele needs to see you in his office immediately.”
No hello. No good morning. No, I hope your first day here is great.
And when I look up at the clock I know why.
8:03
I go to take a calming inhale, forgetting that I’ve yet to exhale and it causes me to cough.
“Ms. Jones. In my office. Now,” a deep baritone echoes throughout the reception.
I nervously scratch my arm and bite down on my lip as I walk toward Mr. Steele’s office door.
The second I cross his threshold I see him, feet planted wide and his arms across his chest. His jaw is stiff as stone and he’s staring at me with venom in his eyes.
“Were you looking for me?” I bat my eyelashes, but it does nothing to improve the look he’s giving me.
“Shut the door,” he commands. I turn and fumble with the handle, pulling it shut to the sound of a loud clicking sound like a bank vault sealing, notifying me that there’s no way out.
His arm extends from his suit and he looks pointedly at his watch, which I can see is a Rolex from clear across the room. Unlike boys my age he wasn’t trying to show off his disposable income’s ability to purchase the finer things in life, he was showing me something else entirely. And I wasn’t going to show him what he wanted more than anything. Fear.
“I didn’t peg you as a cliché, sir,” I toss out, causing his eyes to turn even more devilish.
“And I didn’t peg you for someone who talks back.”
Yeah, Disney wouldn’t be calling him anytime soon for tips on how to play a credible Prince Charming.
Just as I expect him to call me over, he surprises me, and walks purposefully in my direction until the tips of his shoes are flush with mine.
I can’t go forward, and I can’t go backwards. And I most certainly can’t go through him.
“What did I say yesterday?” he says firmly, yet surprisingly calmly.
“You asked me to be on time.”
“I didn’t ask you. I told you.”
Silence, and then he turns on his heel and walks back to his desk and sits.
I bring my trembling hand to my face, covering it while I shake my head and close my eyes as my body collapses back into the door in relief.
It definitely felt like that situation was about to escalate.
“Come. Here.”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“Little girl, you come here,” he adds, offering no further explanation.
“No,” I bite.
“Did you just say…no?”
I shake my head as a child might.
“I see you still haven’t learned the difference between orders and suggestions, and that, little girl, was not a suggestion.”
My tongue darts out of my mouth as I bend forward at the waist, my body doing things I have no justification for.
“You’ll learn to do as you’re told,” he threatens, and without a word more he points to his knee.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry at all, but you’re about to be.”
I mope toward his desk, my feet betraying me as the magnetic pull of his confidence and authority sucks me right into a vortex that’s threatening to pull me under.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” I say as I arrive at the side of his desk.
“Amazing how compliant you are when you’re on the verge of getting your butt whipped.”
My eyes shoot open wide. I wanted to test him, see what he’d really do, but now that he’s just verbalized his actual plans I’m not sure if my game of cat and mouse has gone too far, or has landed me exactly where I want to be, need to be.
A pool was already forming in my panties as my nipples begin to harden, a trail of cold sweat running down my back. Even though he was sitting down, his head
