I could see at once what Clare meant when she’d said he was hot. He wasn’t just hot, he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He was in his mid thirties, wearing a very expensive bespoke black suit with white shirt and crimson red tie. His hair was jet black and neatly trimmed.
In fact everything about him was neat and tidy, even the hint of stubble on his chiselled jaw. He looked every inch the arrogant businessman, from his furious eyes to the way he impatiently tapped his foot as he looked at me as if he was expecting someone else. He scowled as I recoiled from his glare, unable to bear the anger radiating out from him.
“You’re late,” he snapped, before blinking in surprise as he looked at me properly for the first time. “Who are you?”
TWO
DOMINIC
I was angry enough at how late he was before the doorbell even rang. I’d forgotten all about the parcel that was due to arrive. I’d come home after the longest day at the office in months and within minutes of getting inside, my phone was already demanding my attention. I ignored it the first couple of times. It could at least wait until I’d had a drink.
I’d been out of the house since half five that morning, the early start was the only way I could squeeze in an hour at the gym before getting going on with another hard day. I was at work by six thirty and I hadn’t stopped until I finally forced myself away just after five in the evening. I hadn’t even had time to eat. A workaholic, my father had always called me, as if he hadn’t been exactly the same, as if it wasn’t hard work that had built the empire I now ruled on his behalf.
Only when my glass was empty of everything except melting ice did I answer my phone, Archibald on the other end, the panic evident in his voice. “You’ve heard then?” he asked. “What the hell are we going to do?”
He could panic. I had no intention of doing so. What good was panicking? Better to keep a cool head, fix the problem first, let the heads roll later. “If you mean, have I heard that there’s a gaping hole in our finances that seems to have appeared from nowhere, then yes, I have heard. As to what we’re going to do, isn’t that your job? You’re the accountant, aren’t you?”
“I’m coming over. I’ll be there by six.”
I went to say, “No, you’re not coming over,” but he’d already hung up. So much for having some time to myself to think. Archibald seemed to think that because he’d worked for my father for years, he could get away with shit like that. I only let him for now because he was a goddamned genius with figures. Or so I’d thought. Thirty million missing. How the hell had it happened? How had he not spotted it before now?
In a way, I was glad he was coming over. I could let him know how serious this was. If he didn’t fix it and the shareholders found out, we were fucked with a capital F and there wasn’t a corporation in the world that would hire him. I poured myself another drink, mulling over whether or not to tell my father. Was it worth worrying him? Would he even understand how serious this was?
When the doorbell went at quarter past, I was livid. Archibald was late. I fucking hated people not being on time. “You’re late,” I said as I pulled open the door, realising at once that it wasn’t Archibald. “Who are you?”
It was a girl holding my parcel. I remembered it then. Something else that was supposed to be here before six. It wasn’t that it was urgent that my latest pocket watch was here by six. It was that the company had told me it would be. If someone makes you a promise, they should keep it. Simple good business sense. If they couldn’t keep their promises, I wouldn’t order from them again. I’d let the delivery girl know what I felt about her lateness though. Then I looked at her properly and it became difficult to discipline her in the way I planned. All of a sudden I wanted to discipline her in a very different way.
She looked so innocent. She looked like she’d make the perfect little girl, the right place for her would be over my knee, her legs kicking as I spanked her bare ass. She had big blue eyes that were half hidden behind her fringe of blonde hair, two pigtails making her seem younger than her years. I pegged her at no more than twenty though she could have been a teenager. Her cheeks were flushed red as if she’d run up the stairs instead of taking the lift. Her lips were so plump I almost leaned in and kissed her there and then. They were lips that asked to be kissed, even as she shied away from me, her arms hugging the parcel as if it was her favourite teddy bear.
She was in a light summer dress, the top of it tight to her chest, drawing my eyes to the swell of her breasts, a hint of nipple visible through the fabric. No bra, the little tease.