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“And what exactly are your expectations, Mr Miller?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
“My expectations…” I repeat her question, rubbing a hand along my jawline while I let my eyes very lazily travel from her feet to her head. “…are that you follow every single order I give you.”
I see the hitch in her breath as my words sink in.
“And if I don’t?” Her voice is quiet, breathless almost.
“There are consequences for disobedience, Bentley, consequences I don’t think you want to experience firsthand.” My fingers twitch at the thought of bending her over my knee and spanking the perky ass I know she’s got hiding under that gown.
“I think you have me all wrong, Mr Miller,” she says.
“How so?”
“I’m not the typical first-year associate you can bully and intimidate to be at your beck and call.”
“And what are you then? If not that?” I ask her, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out. Excuse me. I have to get back in there.” Bentley steps around me and walks inside the auditorium without so much as a backwards glance.
ONE
“You look perfect. Stop fidgeting already,” Jules scolds me for straightening my hemline for the millionth time.
“Are you sure? What if it’s too tight?” I ask. The dress I’m wearing is office appropriate. There are no humps or bumps showing. It’s a simple beige square-neck that reaches the top of my knees. It hugs my hips and there is a small slit that runs halfway up the back.
“It’s perfectly appropriate. Now, if you don’t hurry up and leave, you’ll be late. You do not want to be late on your first day,” she reminds me.
“Thank you. You’re the best.” I pull her in for a hug. My sister is exactly one year and six months younger than me. We’re often mistaken for twins. She’s more than just my sister though. She’s my best friend.
After our dad went away when I was sixteen, Mum had to sell our house. We moved to a new school, and a new life. One with less finery than we were accustomed to. Jules and I didn’t make new friends easily. There were one or two here and there over the years, but for the most part, it’s just been us. Together.
It’s not always easy being the daughters of a known criminal. Our dad’s trial was widespread news at the time. I think it’s pretty safe to say that most people still know the published details if the case were brought up—although I don’t think they’d make the connection that Oliver Johnson is my father. We’re lucky that the surname is common enough.
My dad was innocent. Heisinnocent. His business partner, his most-trusted friend, betrayed him. They shared the empire they built together fifty-fifty. My dad was the CEO and Mark Kemp was the scientist behind the creations of Kemp Johnson’s Cosmetics. As it turned out, Mark was cutting corners, falsifying test results. A lot of people were hurt by the age-defying face cream that Kemp Johnson launched on my fifteenth birthday. A year later, my dad took the fall for everything while Mark Kemp got off scot-free.
My father’s name,ourfamily’s name, was smeared. In the beginning, Mum, Jules, and I received death threats from many of the victims of the cream. I felt for them, still do. Why they thought coming after us was okay, I’ll never understand. Jules and I were just kids. We had absolutely nothing to do with the company. My mum never even worked there. Up until the day everything changed, she was a doting wife and mother. Now, she works as a school administrator. It took her a while to get back on her feet. My dad was her whole world.
And my dad… Well, he didn’t cope with jail. After just six months of a twenty year sentence, he committed suicide. I will never stop looking for a way to redeem his name. As long as I’m breathing, I’m going to make it my mission to find evidence,proofthat it was Mark Kemp who instrumented that whole disaster. He should have been the one locked up. Not my dad.
“Bentley? You okay?” Jules asks.
“Ah, yeah, just thinking about Dad,” I say, shaking the negative thoughts from my head.
“He’d be so proud of you, Bentley.”
“I know.” I smile. “I really do need to go. Meet me after work at that little bar near the office?” I ask her.
“I’ll be there,” she agrees, and I rush outside.
Mum stops me just as I’m getting into my car. “Good luck today, baby. Go knock 'em dead,” she calls out and waves from the front door.
“Thanks, Mum. Talk later. I gotta go.” I wave back before shutting myself inside my car.
My nerves are kicking in as I pull into the underground carpark of the skyrise building I’ll be spending all my time in from now on. I’m not naïve. I know if I want to be the best, I have to put in the hours. I have to put up with arrogant, cocky bosses like Nathan Miller. There is no other option. This is the top firm in Melbourne. There’s a reason these three lawyers are known as the best. It’s because theyarethe best, which is especially impressive, considering their young ages—well,youngish. From my research, I’ve gathered they’re all in their early-thirties. Which puts them at around ten years my senior.
The ride up the lift is excruciatingly long. Or it may just be the fact that the closer I get to the top floor, the more I think I’m going to throw up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Two months ago, I was addressing the whole university, giving my valedictorian speech. Now, I’m getting stage fright at the thought of walking into the office of the law firm that hired me. It makes no sense. Unless you account for the fact that I’m insanely, inappropriately attracted to my hot boss.
I have to get myself under control. It’s not like I haven’t been around good-looking boys before. Though I doubt there is anything boyish about Nathan Miller. A smile reaches my lips as I think about how he’d respond to being called a boy. His words have been haunting me for two months.
