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Chapter One
Damien
I loathe Mondays, I thought to myself as I lowered myself down into my executive desk and pulled up my email. I still had a hangover from the night before – and I wasn’t fucking looking forward to another week of corporate bullshit. Especially now that my most recent secretary, Hannah, had just quit her job. Sure, I’d fucked her and then refused to call.
But I did that with all my secretaries. Hannah wasn’t exactly anything special.
I groaned. At the top of my inbox was an email from my boss, Scott.
“Hannah quit. Did you get a chance to get in those panties? New casting call is at 11am. Come by and check out the bumper crop – I’ll save you a redhead.”
At a quarter to eleven, I sauntered over to Scott’s office. There was a long line of women stretching all the way down the hallway, and they all gazed at me hungrily. I felt my lips curve into a wolfish smile as I pushed past them, smelling a bouquet of expensive perfumes. Scott was sitting behind his desk with his feet kicked up. There was a young blonde woman standing in front of him and making doe eyes.
“Perfect, honey,” Scott praised. “Now turn around.”
The girl wrinkled her nose suspiciously. “The staffing agency said this was for an assistant job,” she said. “Can you tell me what I’ll be doing for you?”
“You’ll be turning around a lot,” Scott said in a teasing voice. “Spin for me.”
The girl wrinkled her nose but finally rolled her eyes and spun in a slow circle. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that clung to her heart-shaped ass with tantalizing precision, and Scott nodded approvingly.
“Good job,” he said, glancing down and checking something off of a clipboard in front of him. “That’s all.”
The girl curtsied and stepped forward to place a copy of her resume on his desk. Scott tossed it in the trash without even looking at it and waved her out of his office with a hand.
“Definitely a no,” he said. “The way her face looked when I had to ask her for the second fucking time to turn around. Is she deaf?”
“Your style of interviewing is pretty non-traditional, you have to admit,” I said, keeping my voice as smooth as I could. “Let me do the next one.”
“I’ve let you ‘do’ all of them,” Scott said grumpily. “That’s my fucking problem.”
“That’s what you get for fucking my wife,” I shot back. “Next!”
A petite girl entered the room, carrying a black leather tote bag. Her auburn hair was in a loose chignon and she wore a black dress with black tights and black shoes. She looked from me to Scott and back again, cocking her head to the side.
“Which one of you do I have to impress?” She asked, glancing around the room. “Is there a chair here?”
“Nope,” Scott smiled. I stepped in front of his desk.
“There’s no chair,” I said. “But I’ll stand too, just to make you feel better.”
“Good, you have an HR department,” she joked. I frowned. There was something about her attitude that felt different from most women. She didn’t seem entirely comfortable under Scott’s leer, and I could tell that she wasn’t exactly impressed by our surroundings. “Is this a new office?”
“Brasher & Co. has been around since ’83,” I told her, leaning back on Scott’s desk and crossing my arms over my chest. “We specialize in business consulting, and we’ve worked with Microsoft, Google, and KPMG.”
“I thought you started in ’82?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.
I blinked. “You’re right,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
