Resist (2 page)

Chapter Two

Charlotte

You’d think having a cousin in a top position at a big-name newspaper would be an advantage for me. Apparently, it’s not.

“I’m sorry, Char. It just isn’t going to happen at the moment. I can’t even get you in here making coffee or doing the mail run.”

Yeah, you’d love that too.
There is a chuckle in her voice and I know she’s enjoying this. I swear she hates me. The fact that I’m struggling to find work would be making her freaking week. Nick cheating on me? Well, that would have made her year. All I need now is to suffer a life-threatening illness and all her wishes would’ve come true.

Seven years older than me, Mara has always harbored this weird jealousy toward me, which I’m sure has to do with the fact that our grandmother always seemed more interested in what I was doing and where I was at, up until she died last year. I’d always had a close relationship with Nan, ever since I was a child spending weekends having sleepovers in her living room. As I grew older, I made sure I kept that bond going. Even when I moved interstate to go to college, I called her every week to chat, right up until her death.

It probably didn’t help that Nan had left me a sizeable chunk of inheritance that I wasn’t allowed to touch until my twenty-fifth birthday. Oh how I could use that cash right now. Mara, on the other hand, was given a much smaller monetary amount, as were all the other grandchildren.

“Okay. Thanks.” I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

I hang up the phone and pick up the Jobs section of the paper, scouring through it again, but this time lowering my standards to work outside of journalism. I am beginning to get desperate. I need a job to at least tide me over until I find one I want.

Even with my now basic requirements, there isn’t much listed that isn’t waitressing. Maybe I’m going to have to lower them to rock bottom because my savings aren’t going to help me for much longer.

***

After another unsuccessful morning job-hunting through the newspapers, I’ve taken my search online. I shoot an email to Erren, the editor who I answered to at the
LA Times
, where I interned for a few weeks earlier this year. I’m not holding my breath that they’ll have anything for me, but if anyone will help me, it will be him.

I’m soon distracted by Jess on instant messenger, who apparently just has to tell me about the guy she hooked up with after I left last night.

Jess: He was so fucking hot, Char. Like you have no idea . . . And the things that man could do with his tongue would be illegal in some countries. Sigh.

Me: Less interested in men with talented tongues and more interested in finding a job. Things are getting desperate.

Jess: Fake a resume with marketing experience and I’ll get you a job here
?


Me: So I can watch you swoon over your boss? As tempting as that is . . . You know how bad I am at lying.

Jess: Nope. I’ve moved on. I refuse to sit here wasting my life on a guy who isn’t interested. And isn’t lying all journalists do? :p Joke! Okay, so when you say you’re desperate, how desperate is desperate, exactly?

Me: I don’t even know how to answer that.

A link pops up in the chat window and I click on it. I have no idea what to expect when Jess is sending me job links, but I am nervous. My money is on porn or stripping, neither of which I’m willing to do.

Jess: This is a legit job. I think you should apply.

I groan and click on the link, preparing myself for whatever is going to pop up on my screen.

Position Vacant.

Successful, attractive male requires full-time live-in assistant. This is no ordinary position. If voyeurism and explicit fantasies are likely to offend, please do not apply. The successful applicant will be female, attractive and very self-confident.

I am not looking for a slave, or a submissive. I’m after a challenge.

Fight me. Resist me and you will be rewarded . . .

I reread it again, convinced that it’s some kind of joke, but then I look at the website and recognize it as one of the larger job search engines in the country. I’d seen some pretty out there stuff on here before. Just last week I saw a position advertised for a Dog Psychic and the week before that someone was advertising for a porn fluffer. I’m embarrassed to admit that I even knew what that was.

I pick up my phone and call Jess.

“You’re kidding, right?” I laugh. “Can you really see me doing something like that?? No thanks. I’ll starve first. I mean, what kind of person puts an ad out like that anyway?

“Hear me out before you go all high and mighty on me,” Jess insists.

I sigh and wait for her to elaborate.

“So, my friend Terra gets to this interview and she’s in shock when she meets this guy, because it’s Jaxon friggen Murphy.”

“Jaxon Murphy, as in the guy whose girlfriend disappeared a few months ago? The same guy who was acquitted of her murder?” I gasp.

I studied him in my Investigative Journalism class. Nobody other than the police could get near the guy to hear his side of the story. He had been acquitted after a poorly put together prosecution team all but ruined any chance of him facing justice. I’d heard nothing about him since.

“Yup,” she replies gleefully. “But in his defense, they never actually found a body. And he was let off because the evidence against him sucked.”

“Okay, and why would anyone in their right mind want to work for him? Especially as his personal sex slave or whatever the fuck it is that he wants?” I laugh. This whole thing is way too weird and definitely not something I was interested in.

“Think about it, Char: nobody got the scoop on this guy. Imagine how in-demand you would be if you managed to dig up a story on him. Seriously, this is your big chance. Besides,” she giggles, “have you seen the guy? I’d totally fuck him.”

“I don’t know, Jess.” I feel uneasy at just the thought of working for this guy, no matter how hot he is. “I mean, what if he did kill his girlfriend? If he could do that to her, imagine what he would do to me if he found out I was only there fishing for a story.”

“He won’t find out,” she argues. “I’m not suggesting you rifle through the guy’s things. Just go in there and observe. See if anything feels off. Just think about it. Go for the interview and then see how you feel. I mean, you probably wont even get the job.”

“Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence,” I chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Terra told me hundreds of women applied. He’s interviewed less than a of them.” She pauses dramatically. “He is
really
ruthless with his selection criteria, apparently.”

“Won’t your friend be annoyed that you’re pushing me to apply for a job she wants?” I tease.

“She doesn’t want it. She’s too scared she’ll end up dismembered and buried in his backyard,” she cracks.

I roll my eyes, loving that it’s okay for Terra to be scared but not me.

“Anyway, I gotta go,” Jess sighs. “Apparently I’m supposed to be working. Call me later, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree with a laugh.

As I hang up, I ponder over her words. I wonder what catch is. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to advertise for a sex slave, or whatever the hell it is he wants. I mean, is that even legal? I read over the ad again and find myself even more intrigued. Jess is right about one thing: this could potentially be a huge story. My big break. Newspapers would be falling over themselves to hire me.

God, it’s tempting…

And if I want a career in journalism I have to be ruthless, right?

His missing girlfriend isn’t the first time Jaxon Murphy has been in the news. When he was fifteen, his mother, father, and younger sister were brutally murdered during a home invasion. Jaxon had been spending the night at a friend’s house and arrived home the next morning to find the bodies. I shudder at the thought. How does a kid get over that? I guess that’s the point; he’s probably never gotten over it.

When he turned eighteen, he inherited his father’s multi-million-dollar fortune and became partner CEO of his business, Hamden & Murphy Enterprises, along with his father’s old business partner, Ryan Hamden. For a years he was completely out of the spotlight until earlier this year his long time girlfriend, Brynne, disappeared.

I text Jess, who I notice is back on messenger.

Me: This would be an awesome story…

Jess: Oooh, you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?!?

I laugh and tap back a reply.

Me: Thinking and doing are not the same things. I really don’t think I have the balls for this kinda thing. This is more your forte.

Jess: Hmm, I’m pretty sure our guy isn’t after a chick with balls. That’s a whole different fetish ;) But seriously, what harm is there in meeting the guy? If you smell a story, go for it. If not, no love lost, right?

She’s making all kinds of sense right now. Gaining an interview and sussing out the situation doesn’t tie me into taking the job, does it?

Me: I’ll think about it.

Jess: Good girl. Call me later, ’kay?

After rereading the ad for the hundredth time, I copy the email address and type out a quick message, and attach my résumé and the required full-length photo. I press send before I can change my mind and then slam my laptop shut. I’m already regretting it. I need to distract myself. I pick up my bag and grab my car keys off the kitchen counter and head out the door to do the thing I love most: shopping.

My phone beeps, indicating an email, as I’m driving into the parking lot. I pull over and grab my phone, my heart racing. Am I hoping it’s him, or am I hoping it’s not? I don’t know. I’m confused about whether I even want the damn interview.

I click on my email and see it is a reply from him. My hands shake as I click the message.

Thank you for your application. I’d like to meet with you at four p.m. today to discuss the role in further detail. If you are unable to attend, please be advised that no other times will be made available to you.

Sincerely,

J.M.

JM. As in Jaxon Murphy. Holy shit, it really
is
him. My heart thumps at the thought of meeting him. I check my watch and see that it is almost three thirty. Is this a test to check my ability to follow orders? I have barely enough time to go home, change, and get to the interview. I’m on the verge of saying
fuck it
when I remember
why
I’m doing this in the first place. I owe it to myself to at least check it out. I decide to scrap the idea of going home and opt to race inside the mall for a fresh shirt and some makeup. Less than ten minutes later I’m on the highway, swerving through lanes as I change shirts.

***

As I stand at the gated entrance to his house, my heart races. I have no idea what I’m about to get myself into. I reach up and press the intercom, my hands shaking. I take a deep breath and try to settle my nerves, only I can’t settle, because I might be about to become someone’s sex slave.
Focus on the finding the story.
Remember why you’re here.

“The front door’s unlocked. Please make your way down the hall to the left and wait in the living room.”

I jump, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing up as the smooth male voice booms through the speakers of the intercom. I’m not sure what it is, but something about that voice…his assertiveness turns me on. Everything about this guy is intimidating.

I bet not many people disobey him.

In the back of my mind, a little voice mocks ‘
Like the girlfriend he murdered…’

So much for remaining impartial.

“Okay, thanks,” I mumble and take a deep breath. Brushing a strand of hair from my face, I make my way through the gate and down toward the front door, determined not to show my fear. I look around me, the full impact of the property hitting me.

The place is huge. The imposing triple-story mansion sits atop sprawling, lush green grounds. Its white exterior is cold and unwelcoming, in complete contrast to its beautiful surroundings. I make my way up the wide concrete steps, my breathing heavy as I near the door.

By the time I reach the double wooden front doors, I feel faint.
How did I let Jess talk me into this?
It’s so much easier to blame her rather than admit that part of me wants to do this.

Not only is this a potentially life-changing story, but I need to find out what his deal is. I spent so much time studying the guy, I feel like I know him. What scares me the most is the closer I get to discovering his secrets, the more I find myself thinking up the dirtiest fantasies of me working for him. Heat creeps up my neck as all sorts of nasty images enter my head.

If I
am
offered the job and I decide to take it, there is going to be sex. Kinky, fucked-up, off the charts kind of sex that little old me just doesn’t do. But that isn’t necessarily by choice, is it? My sex life to this point has been very vanilla, but like every girl, I have deep, dark fantasies that I long to explore. The thought of exploring them with Jaxon Murphy…
oh god.