Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I open the door and step out. His driver carries the groceries and escorts me to the entryway door, then bows his head and bids me good night.
And then he’s gone, like he’s some sort of angel or demon.
Maybe he’s both.
Four
Liam
It’s been a week since I’ve stepped foot in Club Verge, and it’s not because I haven’t been thinking about it every damn day. I’m dying to get some relief, to go back to the place where I’m anonymous and respected, but I’ve had no time. It seems the local damn college is putting up a fuss about my plans for renovations and I’m ready to make heads fucking roll over this.
“Liam, listen,” Jake Cronwell, the head lawyer on my staff, leans forward, mopping his bald head with a white handkerchief. “Local college students need an ax to grind. They look for a cause, and those damn millennials are the worst of the lot.”
I shake my head while I check my emails and shoot off four replies while Jake drones on and on.
“You’re doing nothing illegal. The botanical gardens are beautiful, blah blah blah, but this is prime real estate, and since the owners of The Greenery are in arrears, the time is right.”
“I know,” I tell him, stifling a yawn. Jake’s as dull as hell, and the only reason I keep him on is because he’s a damn Pitbull in court.
The phone rings on my desk, so I hit a button to answer it and stop Jake from carrying on.
“Mister Alexander, your dry cleaning has arrived, sir. Shall I bring it into your office?”
“Please,” I tell Mandy, my administrative assistant.
A moment later, the door opens, and she steps in, holding my dry cleaning. She’s a small, older woman with short white hair, who still wears a dress suit and heels to work every day. She’s fairly toppling under the weight of the clothing. I forgot I had my older suit jackets and wool coats cleaned as well. I quickly step away from my desk and relieve her of the burden.
“Oh, Mr. Alexander,” she says bashfully. “Always the gentleman.”
I think of myself sitting in Club Verge with the feisty little redhead over my knee.
Not always.
“Thank you, Mandy. It’s Friday, why don’t you take off early?”
“I’d love to, sir. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
I nod, dismissing her. I try to keep my employees well compensated and happy and have successfully built a team of faithful employees as a result.
I can be ruthless. I can be vicious, even. But they don’t need to see that side of me. A man needs a staff he can depend on.
I go back to my desk and check my agenda.
“Got a call from Germany I need to take in five minutes, Jake. You got something else you need to tell me?”
“Sir,” he says, a purple vein pulsing in his temple. “You can’t dismiss these protestors. They could really have an impact in our plans.”
“Since when do I care about some fucking social justice warrior trying to undermine my work?” I ask him with derision. “Like I care. Let them whine. They still live in their parents’ basements and don’t even pay their own fucking cell phone bills. They can stomp their feet all they want but giving into them is like handing a tantruming toddler candy. Not gonna do it.”
God, this shit gets under my collar.
But Jake isn’t appeased.
“Liam,” he says, leaning forward so his arms brace on the desk in front of me. “I’m not telling you to give them what they want, but we do need to be careful with how we proceed.”
I shake my head. “Why?”
With a sigh, he flicks his finger across the screen of his iPad and brings up some footage. “Because of this,” he says, showing me a picture of a crowd of college students with protest signs standing outside of The Greenery. They’re surrounded by reporters from all over the country, but it isn’t the reporters that’s got my attention.
It’s the stunning redhead with her fist in the air, holding a microphone up to a podium.
Leading the fucking protest.
No.
I imagine marching up to that podium and taking her by the arm, then dragging her across my knee right on that fucking stage. I know what that belly feels like against my lap. How satisfying it is to watch the fullest part of her ass take my punishment. The way her mouth parts when I warm her ass… I blink, realizing Jake’s continued and I haven’t heard a damn word.
“…gotten the attention of the local media,” he says. “En masse. And if you don’t do some damage control, not only is our project in jeopardy, your reputation is. And you don’t need me to tell you, Liam, that matters.”
“Of course, it matters,” I tell him. He’s got a point. They can’t stop the actual construction process. We’ve almost cleared everything legally, and demolition begins in a few weeks. But they can potentially damage my reputation, which seriously does matter. I have a business to run, and Alexander Enterprises does not run its business in a vacuum.