7
Daphne
Do you see now why I enjoy what I do so much? Where else would I have an hour’s time of the two most eligible bachelors in the entire country?
First came Ares, with that fire in his eyes, and now Lucas, a rough beast hiding behind a polite man’s facade. Oh, yeah, make no mistake about it, despite his consummate professionalism and upstanding behavior, I can tell that there’s a beast inside him yearning to be set free. And, right now, I’m rattling its cage.
What can I say? I just can’t help it.
“You’re quite a woman,” he says, his words coming out of his mouth almost as a growl. I narrow my eyes slightly, imagining how he must look under his tailored suit, and then reach across the desk to lay my hand on top of his.
“You have no idea,” I whisper, and then take my hand back. He looks at me in silence, my touch momentarily making him forget himself.
“Well, in that case, I’d love to find out just exactly how much of a woman you are, Daphne.” Finally we’re both on a first name basis. “What do you say we have dinner?” he says and then, remembering that we’re both CEOs of behemoth companies and that thousands of jobs hang in the balance, he clears his throat and adds a few words to his invitation. “So that we can discuss the situation.”
“Discuss the situation, of course…” I repeat his words back at him, adding a layer of faux security to the whole thing. By the time we’ve had dinner, a few glasses of wine overruling every ounce of judgment we might have, I figure we’re going to do many things, and not all of them will have anything to do with discussing the situation.
“This Friday? I’ll send my limo around to pick you up,” he tells me, and his words are as hard as a slab of rock; he has already decided on the details, and none of them are up for discussion. I don’t mind it; it’s nice to be let off the hook once in awhile, especially when it’s a man like Lucas Blake taking the reigns.
“This Friday, then,” I offer him one polite smile and come up to my feet. I offer him my hand and he squeezes it once more, his fingers lingering against the palm of my hand for two long heartbeats. I feel a shiver going up my spine as our eyes lock, and I find myself imagining how it’d feel to look into those eyes while his cock is deep inside my pussy. It feels wickedly good, even if it’s just in my imagination.
“Glad we’ve met.” His words are heavy and, judging by the look he has on his face right now, I guess he’s imagining a scenario quite like the one I just dreamed up.
“Likewise.” With that, he finally lets go of my hand and peels his eyes off mine. He turns on his heels and marches out of my office, not bothering to look back at me, although I guess that, judging by the stiff way he’s walking, he’s doing it because he wouldn’t be able to leave my office otherwise.
Ares Stone and Lucas Blake … I don’t even know what to think right now. I was pretty excited when I knew that both of them wanted to meet me; that’s why I even changed my schedule so that I could meet them first thing in the morning, but I wasn’t expecting both meetings to be so … intense. If only all men were like these two!
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes for a minute and push all indecent thoughts to the back of my mind; I have work to do right now.
“Who’s next, Karen?” I ask my secretary, pushing one of the buttons on my intercom.
“It’s a Mr. Seymour Lee from the, ah, United States Federal Aviation Administration,” she says in one single breath, and I just tell her to send him in with a sigh. It’s never good when the FAA wants to hold a meeting, especially after a PR screw up has just taken place. They’re always out for blood, and I guess this time the smell of it was too strong for them to ignore.
Two minutes later a gangly figure clutching an oversized briefcase steps inside my office. Seymour Lee is in his mid-forties and, judging by the comb over with which he tries to hide his growing baldness, I guess the years haven’t been too kind to him. There are a few laugh-lines around his thin lips, but I don’t trust these; from an awkward man like him, these lines are probably a representation of his thinly veiled hypocrisy instead of any true joy.
“Ms. Kane!” he chirps happily, offering me his hand. I give him a firm shake, his long spidery fingers brushing against the inside of my wrist. “Glad you could meet me on such short notice. Quite glad indeed!”
Too jolly, too soon, I already don’t like him. Which doesn’t really help him, since I’m the kind of woman who places a lot of weight on first impressions. There’s something about a woman’s instinct that shouldn’t be dismissed, and I would be a fool to do so.
“How can I help you, Mr. Lee?” I ask him cordially, although something in his eyes tells me he’s about to slip a noose around my neck.
“Straight to business! Very well, very well!” he continues to chirp in that annoyingly happy tone, sitting down in the chair facing me and balancing his huge briefcase atop his knees. “It has come to our attention that Union Airlines is facing quite, ah, the situation! Isn’t that true? Of course, such an unfortunate situation! But alas, here we are, aren’t we?”
Jesus Christ, just listening to him makes me feel like ripping my eyeballs out of their sockets. Just get on with it.
“I trust that you came in here representing our good government, haven’t you?”
“Why, of course, Ms. Kane, of course! The government saw this unfortunate situation unfold, and we believe that this is quite the opportunity for everyone involved.”
Yeah, right—quite the opportunity for the assholes in DC to lay their hands on my company. Nothing that I wasn’t expecting—business as usual.
“I think that Union Airlines would soar under the government’s management. Wouldn’t you agree? Just imagine, a company like Union Airlines being run by the people, for the people. A wonder, wouldn’t it be?” Swear to God, judging by the way he’s talking right now, I’d swear he has just creamed his pants. “So, ah, the government wants to buy Union Airlines, Ms. Kane. We’d make this horrible nightmare disappear, you’d make some money on top of it, and our great country would benefit, of course! What do you say to that?”
“It’s easy: I say no,” I tell him flatly, staring at him coldly. “Now, if you’d be so kind, you can leave my office. I have many other meetings to attend.”
“Ah, but Ms. Kane, that doesn’t seem like a wise decision. No, not at all! Many important people back in DC have decided that this business is too important. You must realize that --”
“What I must realize is that the US is not some socialist backwater country run by bureaucrats. No way I’m going to let the government ruin Union Airlines just because some politician wants his nephews to have a cushy job. And now, if you’d be so kind … get the fuck out of my office.”
The laugh-lines in Seymour’s face deepen as his lips curl upward, and I realize that they’ve been etched on his face because of the unsettling way he likes to gaze at people: smiling vacantly, as if he’s taking their measurements for a suit and a casket. This guy gives me the creeps, seriously, and if he doesn’t get out of my office in the next five seconds I’m calling security.
Thankfully, he reads the look on my face well enough and, without a single word, rises to his feet and walks out of my office. But not before looking back at me over his shoulder and saying his parting words.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Kane. We’ll be in touch.”
I bet we will, Mr. Seymour Lee, I bet we will.