Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Spencer seems amused. He crosses his hands over each other, looking directly at me.
“Mid to late thirties. Plenty of kids running around with full care facilities. No bonding. All our employees are very well trusted and well vetted, and I won’t insult them with anything like that,” he rattles off before heaving a big sigh and rubbing his head. “You seriously need a fucking vacation, babe.”
I stare at him, my mouth agape. Did I misjudge him?
But oh my god, he did it again! Calling me babe this time just pisses me off, but I’m too shocked to even focus on that.
“Spence, dude, don’t you have this all down in a spreadsheet? Or at least a word document? Can I get this information from your assistant? She must have this information for your board of directors, right?”
I’m not one to be sarcastic or unprofessional, but maybe he’ll stop if I don’t call him Spencer.
Spencer grins and walks around the desk. He takes me into his arms, hugging me in a big bear hug.
I’ll admit that for a second, I feel incredible. He’s well over six-feet tall, and his chest is so chiseled and toned, and oh god, I am melting right here in his arms.
“I’ll get you all you need from my assistant. Ready for a protein shake and a chat with our other dudes, dude?”
I can’t even insult this man and have it sound convincing. Should I just go with it? After all, this is my vacation…right?
I mean, why the hell does he have me laughing more than I ever have in the past? There has to be something in the water here.
Chapter 6
Xane
A business needs to run on rules, schedules, and none of the nonsense. I have no time or care to play games around here.
The woman sitting across from me crossed that line. She fucked up and cost me money, and mistakes like that add up. Bottom line: I do not tolerate anything but perfection.
“You’re fired. You’ll find your last check in the envelope in front of you. You’re dismissed, and thank you for your time and service. Have a nice day.”
I spread out paperwork on my desk, not waiting to hear why she forgot to call back a very important client. Honestly, I couldn’t give any more fucks about excuses.
I don’t look up till the door closes.
No need to watch a woman cry. I’ve seen it before, and it didn’t impress me. Today will be no different.
I’ve worked hard for all I have right now, and nothing will ever change that. I’ve heard the office talk about how nervous the employees feel when stepping into my office. Little do they know I eat that shit up for breakfast.
A knock on the door breaks my train of thought.
“Come in.”
My voice doesn’t waver as three of my personal assistants enter my office. I notice their eyes looking around, struggling to adjust to the lack of light.
My office is simple and minimalistic. I don’t believe in having clutter of any kind, and the darkness feeds my…asshole nature, as people like to say. Behind my back, that is.
“I have a new assignment for you. I need a new client representative hired. In front of each of you is a stack of fifteen potential employees, five for each one of you. You will cross-check every reference they have listed, call back every past employer, and do an extensive background check, including arrest records, if any.”
They blink at me in response. Of course, I don’t expect them to say a fucking word to me, just do what’s asked of them and to bring me the compiled results.
“Group together and pick one out of each set, and discuss the three you end up with to find the best one of them all. From there, you will choose one, and when that’s done, you will tell me exactly why they will be an asset to the company. Remember this, though: if they screw up, you’re fired along with them. You can leave now.”
They scamper out of the office, not even bothering to protest.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a moment. I can see everything around me, even though my eyes are closed.
It’s a little game I play with myself. Each day, I have my lead personal assistant move something in the office. Nothing significant, just a small trinket or even a pen.
If I can’t figure out what it is, she gets a grand added to her pay. If I can, I get my dick sucked.
I haven’t lost once.
I scan the room from memory. The walls are dark, the furnishings black and silver. There are only two chairs in the room. Both black leather with small silver buttons up the center.
My focus moves to the walls. Japanese art is arranged on the wall directly in front of my desk. Four pictures—two dark, and two abstracts. I don’t like anything floral.