ONE WEEK LATER
Sleeping with my older, experienced, filthy rich boss wasn’t part of my job description. But there are a lot of fringe benefits I wasn’t told about in advance.
Asher Marks is so full of surprises.
I don’t know what I was expecting to happen between us, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. And I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it so much.
And I certainly wasn’t expecting him to just disappear afterwards, even though he clearly enjoyed it too.
It’s been a week since what I thought had been our reconciliation, but I haven’t heard anything from Asher. He’d given me the entire file on a big case that’s being litigated— Schwartz Capital— and told me to study it from top to bottom.
So I’ve been sitting here in my cubicle, learning everything about the case, including studying up for a hearing on a big dispositive motion that’s coming up soon. If our client loses this hearing, its case is over for good.
I certainly hope that Asher prepared for the hearing before he took off to God- knows- where and left the file with me. But just in case, I prepare arguments and an outline with plenty of notes. I anticipate every argument that the opposing side will make, from their briefs, from case law and from racking my brain to think of any possible point I would make if I were in their shoes.
Meanwhile, the Barbies and other associates have walked by snickering and whispering.
“Guess she’s been dumped,” they’ve said, loud enough for me to hear.
“That’s what happens when Asher Marks doesn’t end up liking the mentee he’d chosen,” they’ve said. “He books a seat on his private jet and gets the hell out of Dodge for a while.”
“He’s probably in some Caribbean island blowing off some steam about his bad decision, with some local ladies.”
“He’ll come back tanned and refreshed, with his senses returned to him and a new mentee chosen, which he’ll be ready to announce right away.”
I type up my notes, trying to stay focused on the hearing preparation I’m not even sure I’m supposed to be doing, and ignore them. What do they know, anyway?
Apparently, though, they know a lot more than I knew when I starting work here. I’d never heard of Asher Marks’s… proclivities. And I’d never have dreamed that he’d want me. Or that I would give in to him.
But now, all I want is for him to come back and explain himself. How dare he use me like that, and then leave me?
Unless it’s just part of his game. The mysterious rules to which he always alludes but never explains. He probably likes making me wait, letting me know who’s boss, as if I could possibly forget.
Asher might be jerking me around, but I’m choosing to stay the course until he returns and lets me know what’s going on. If he lets me know what’s going on. I wouldn’t put anything past that man, at this point.
I want to be mad at him, but all I can think about are his hands on my breasts, my ass, my pussy. His big cock in my mouth. The way he fucks me.
He wanted to fuck me so badly and he did. But it was on my timetable. So maybe that’s why he freaked out and left.
And I know I could be wrong but I feel certain he wants something more from me, too.
So I will wait him out.
I’m mid-way through reading a deposition transcript in the Schwartz case to prepare for the hearing when I realize I don’t have part of it. So I go up to the fifteenth floor so I can look for it in his office.
His assistant Dora nods to me as I duck into his office. She’s used to seeing me in here by now. I’m sure she has some idea that it’s not all work and no play—everyone at the firm seems too— but she never lets on. She only ever asks me if I need anything. I’ll ask her to find the rest of the deposition transcript if I can’t find it.
I root around on his desk and then look up on his bookshelves. The phone on his desk rings, and I jump. Then I look at it with curiosity.
“Dora?” I call out.
There’s no answer.
I peek my head out to where her desk is but she isn’t there. She must be in the file room or copy room.
What if he’s calling trying to get through to her? What if he needs her?
I know it’s just an excuse to try to talk to him. But I pick up the phone, telling myself that if it’s not him I’ll just pretend to be Dora. And if it is his him, I’ll see how he reacts before determining how to proceed.
“Asher Marks’ office,” I say confidently, as if answering his phone was a normal part of my job.
“Who is this?” a woman’s voice says on the other line.
“Excuse me?” I ask. Then I clear my throat. I have to remember to stay professional. “This is his… assistant,” I lie.
“This is not Dora,” the woman says.
Shit.
“When I say assistant, I mean associate,” I quickly correct myself. He might kill me if he finds out I was answering his phone pretending to be someone else but I don’t know what else to do. “This is Madilyn.”
“Oh Madilyn, is it?” the woman says. “So that’s your new name. But it doesn’t make any difference.”
“Excuse me?” I ask her.
“You’re his newest pet, of course. But you’re all the same. It’s not worth learning your name when you’ll be gone before I know it and he’ll be onto the next one.”
“Who is this?” I demand again, very angry now.
“You can tell him his wife called,” she says, and hangs up.
His wife?
What the ever living fuck?
I knew Asher was mysterious but this is an all time low.
Just when I thought things were different between us, I realize they’re really not. She’s right. Not only am I one in a long list of foolish associates he’s “mentored” over the years but I’m probably the only one dumb enough not to have known he was married.
He may have fooled me once, but not again. I regret ever losing my virginity to him.
But as I look down at the same desk on which he fucked me silly, I have to admit to myself that that’s not true. It was a hell of a way to lose my virginity, even if it turned out to be a lot shallower of a “relationship” than I thought it was.