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“Well, I guess mainly eating out. I don’t cook.”
“Grant here has done the extremely illegal thing of breaking into your bank account. I’ve downloaded the information into a spending tracker. You two can discuss that amongst yourselves later. Are you aware last year you spent seventeen thousand six hundred twenty-two dollars on eating out? On eating out alone.”
No fucking way, I think, as I hear him say the dollar amount out loud. Only he’s not done yet.
“You do like the spa, you spent four thousand two hundred there last year. We will get to all the eating out and whatnot later, I’m not really here about that. I’m here to let you know that the five thousand you put away would leave you with a seven thousand dollar bill owed to the IRS. For only one month of what Grant will be paying you for the year.
“We get into the six hundred thousand you will have at the end of the year, and per month, it’s nineteen thousand five hundred you would owe monthly. The nineteen thousand five hundred is why I’m here.”
“Nineteen thousand dollars?” I look at Grant, stunned. All the resentment about his sneaky breaking into my electronic life is gone.
“Nineteen thousand five hundred, when we talk about the IRS we never round down dear. There are some things people can do to lower their taxable income that also helps them for the future. We are going to get you enrolled into the 401k for Grant’s company. We can pay medical expenses up front with an FSA account, but Grant’s idea about giving you stock monthly as an employee to replace some of the money given to the IRS is the best thing.
“With his company stock not publicly traded, the value is static. You own stock that is, for the sake of this example, one month, nineteen thousand five hundred dollars, and because it’s in the employee plan, you don’t pay any taxes on it until you cash it out.
“When you cash it out you can roll it over into a nontaxable IRA or you cash it out and buy other stock with it and your taxable amount will be the current rate. Let’s say you don’t need the nineteen thousand five hundred dollars until three years from now when you are only making fifty thousand dollars a year. At that time your overall tax liability for the whole year is lower than at six hundred thousand and so you get to keep more of that nineteen thousand five hundred come tax time.”
It sounds very appealing, but wait a minute. “Grant, wait this isn’t right. It’s fifty thousand a month, that’s it. I want to pay the taxes. I don’t want them to come after me later. If you buy the stock to make up for the taxes it’s even more money, another almost twenty thousand a month. That’s... that,” I struggle with the math for a second. “Two hundred forty thousand dollars more, no, absolutely not.
“Fifty thousand is already more than I wanted, more than I need. We can talk about the other stuff, a 401k and things like that but this extra, this money to make up for me paying taxes. No.”
“John, go get some coffee.” Grant is frowning. I back up, worried about displeasing him on only our first day together.
“No, John stay.” The man knows who is paying the bill and disappears. “Grant, no.”
His hands go down to the arms of my chair, he leans in to me and nibbles at my mutinous mouth.
“Yes. Say, yes, sweetheart. Don’t be like this. I want to take care of you, to make sure you never have to do anything you don’t want to do again. Why is that a bad thing?”
He whispers along the skin of my jaw. I swallow a moan as he sucks the soft flesh of my ear into his mouth. “I’m a billionaire, the money doesn’t mean anything to me. Twenty thousand a month, I give more than that to charity.” I stiffen and he groans. “You are not charity. The last thing I feel for you is charity. Anne, please let me do this. Knowing you are protected in the future is important to me.”
“I will be. John will help me with that because of you. You are already doing it with the agreed amount monthly. I appreciate you running it through your company, which gives me benefits I’ve missed. But no, nothing you say will make me change my mind. Fifty thousand, that’s all.”
I stare him down. Finally, he sees I’m not going to give in. “You’re too stubborn for you own good, sweetheart.”
“No, I’m just more stubborn than you want me to be.” I peck his cheek in apology.
In a flash, he turns, capturing my mouth. Angry, rough, demanding, his tongue invades, showing me exactly what he intends to do to me. I’m clinging to him when he tears his lips from mine. I moan, at the loss of him.
“Tonight, we’ll find out how stubborn you really are.” He promises. I can’t wait.
Grant hits the button on the phone and asks Yvette and John to come back into his office. The next hour makes me tense. I make a partial concession based on John’s advice. I agree to take payment in part of ten thousand a month in stock. Unlike regular employees, who have to wait five years, I have the right to cash out when our year is up. Yvette revises the agreement, saying she’ll be back later today for both our signatures.
After a break for lunch John and I stay in the kitchen when Grant goes back to his office to work. John takes me through the 401k and how to invest. I look up to see it’s b
een almost two hours of investment school and we aren’t actually done yet. Seeing my eyes begin to glaze over, John promises to come back tomorrow. We’ll go over spending and how to make a budget for this year and the years when I’m not making fifty thousand a month.
I’m exhausted and tell Alice I’m going to take a nap. I tiptoe past Grant’s office into the master bedroom and close the door. I take off the skirt and shirt before climbing into the bed Alice must have made. Closing my eyes, I fall asleep in seconds.
Chapter Seven
Staring blindly at the screen, all I can think of is how to get my way. How to make certain Anne will be okay after this year is up. How to make sure she won’t find herself in another man’s bed for money five or ten years down the road.
The pen I have in my hand breaks. I don’t want Anne to have to be with someone. I want her to only be with someone because she wants to be. Fuck, that’s a lie. The idea of Anne in another man’s bed, five years or ten years or fucking twenty years from now sends the broken pen and ink flying across the room.
Get a grip, I struggle to breathe deeply. One night, it’s only been one night. It’s just one year. This is supposed to only be one year. Sure, I had hoped any woman who was willing to sign up for an agreement like this would be open to going longer than a year with the terms remaining the same. But I hadn’t even thought to bring it up to Anne. If I lose my shit this soon she’ll spook and run. I’m not even sure what I’m losing my shit over. All I know is last night has me fucking in a tailspin of burning need for Anne.
For everything about her, from the smell of her skin to the insanely sweet taste of her pussy, those perfect full breasts that fit my hands and mouth perfectly to the feel of her soft body against mine. Waking up beside her, I hadn’t been able to stop running my eyes over every inch of her as my cock ached to take her again. Even as my head spun from trying to figure what made her different.
