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I realized after a second that he was waiting for me to respond, so I nodded, still unable to meet his eyes where he sat next to me. “Yes… sir.”
“Good. Now I’m going to go into my office and make a couple of phone calls. While I’m in there, I want you to get up and put your clothes back on. I want you to get yourself back together by the time I come back for you. Then I’m going to drive you home—or at least back to your car. Can you do that for me?”
Though I couldn’t hope to understand it, my throat was tight again, and I knew if I said much more I might start weeping once again. Even though I had no idea why. “I can do that, sir.”
Then he stood, his clever touch abandoning me.
Looking up from the couch, I watched him go as he disappeared around the corner, headed for his office.
I whispered the words to myself, shaking my head slowly. “What the hell are you going to do now, Lola?”
CHAPTER9
Lola
I watched him warily as he drove me, wishing I could be privy to what was going through his head at that moment. The sky outside was darkening, dusk not far away, and yet I realized then that I almost totally had lost track of time while I was under his thumb.
What did that mean?
The evening was cold, the leaves outside beginning to fall, the wind swirling here and there upon the sidewalk now and then a leaf flying across the windshield, the steady hum of the engine the only sound as he drove me back. His eyes never left the road, but I could tell his attention was focused completely on me. I liked that in a way, that even now after what had happened, he still was intensely interested in what I was doing or what I was thinking. Or maybe that was just me being a silly girl.
My ass, surprisingly, wasn’t particularly sore. Rather, it was sort of… sensitive. But I could tell it was going to be hurting later on.
I finally got up the nerve to talk to him. “What happens now?”
His gaze slid over to me then, but he was silent for a moment, as if gauging whether or not my question was particularly serious. Or maybe I was imagining that completely.
“What happens next is up to you. As far as I’m concerned, you passed my little test, and I think you’ve got what it takes to be my employee. Whether or not you have what it takes to perform the job, well, that remains to be seen. But I’ll be honest with you, that I am looking forward to verifying your work performance myself.”
“What does that mean?” I already suspected I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted to say it, to confirm whether my fears were warranted… or whether what I feared wasn’t nearly as daunting as what he actually had planned for me.
“I think you know exactly what that means. But I’ll indulge you.” His big hand wrapped harder around the top of the steering wheel, the creaking sound signaling either the popping of his knuckles or the tremendous power of his grip on the leather. “I’ll be checking your work, and confirming whether or not you’re obeying my dictates. I am very specific about how I want things done. And if I don’t get them done exactly the way I want them, well, you’ll be corrected.”
I swallowed at that, my mouth going dry. “By corrected you mean… punished?”
He simply nodded at that, a hint of a little smile curving one side of his mouth. “Among other things.”
“What if… what if I don’t want to be punished? I mean, it’s not as if this is a normal part of employment law, is it? I mean I may be young, but I’ve never heard of anyone who was allowed to spank their employees.”
“Times have changed. Let me assure you that a few decades ago, there was a lot more of that going on than you would ever believe.” He gave me a subtle wink, then returned his gaze to the road. “Better times, to be honest. Things were much clearer then. And women understood what it was the other offered. Now? Things are more… confused.”
I scoffed at him. “Confused? More like a step back in the right direction. What you’re talking about sounds like… patriarchy.”
His eyes flashed at that. “Another word with countless definitions.”
“How wouldyoudefine it?” It wasn’t that I cared so much, rather it was that I was curious about what exactly he meant. I had a feeling I already knew though.
“If you come work for me, you’re going to find out. Maybe after you’ve been in my employ for a while, we can talk about what kind of conclusions you’ve drawn about how you think I define that word. Deal?”
I stiffened then at the implication, at his casual brushing off of my challenge. I wasn’t used to it, not at all, and I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that either. I was used to being able to do this with boys my age, and they always failed, stumbling at the first gate. Most of them were so concerned, maybe even terrified, about pleasing me, about saying the right thing. Even though we were both too young and too stupid to know what the right thing actually was.
And though I didn’t know it then, the more time I spent with Mr. Winters, the more it made me realize that at least part of me longed for men who simply didn’t care about such things. They had their opinions, their beliefs, their way of doing things. And that was it.
So you’re saying you’re turned on by the fact he doesn’t give a fuck what you think? Is that about it, Lola?
Maybe it wasn’t as simple as that. But one thing I already knew after having known Mr. Winters for only a short while was that he got me thinking, and that in itself was both good… and dangerous.
Either way though, it was certainly interesting. Boring was a word I would never use to describe Mr. Winters.
