Under His Command (For His Pleasure, Book 17) (6 page)

She got up and handed him the contract. “It’s signed.”

He took it, but hardly glanced at it. “Good.” Then he looked at her again. “Did you even read the policies or were you just staring into space all morning?”

“Ask me anything you want about them,” she said, for the first time feeling a stinging resentment at the tone he was using to speak to her. “It’s not exactly challenging work for me,” she continued.

“Oh, it’s not?” Easton said. He licked his lips. “You want to be challenged, do you?”

“That’s right.” She met his gaze, her spine straightening. If he thought he was just going to walk all over her day after day, he had another thing coming.

“Fine,” Easton said. He scratched his cheek, seeming to consider. And then he grew overly enthusiastic, snapping his fingers. “I have just the task for you, Miss Saunders. Something very challenging, that way I won’t bore you too much with all of this
easy
work.”

“Good,” she replied, but now she wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t have kept her big mouth shut.

“I’m going to email you the contact information of a very powerful guy who’s looking for a new ad agency. I want you to get him on the phone for me.”

Kennedy sat down, disturbed. “That doesn’t sound too hard,” she said.

“The thing is,” Easton said, grinning, “This man hates me. I mean, he really and truly hates my guts. So, it’s not going to be easy to do it.” And then he pointed at her.

“No lying—no getting him to talk to me under false pretenses.”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t let me down, Kennedy. I expect you to succeed. This would be a huge account for us and it would really prove to me that I made the right choice in hiring you.”

“I’ll get in touch with him right away, then.”

“Oh, and get me a cup of coffee while you’re at it,” he said. “You made a pot for yourself and never even offered me any.”

“You were on the phone—“

“No excuses.” He turned and went back in his office.

Kennedy got up and quickly hustled to the kitchenette area and poured him a full mug, then carried creamer and a sampling of sweeteners into his office.

Easton was sitting at his desk, looking at a magazine. “I emailed you the information,” he said, still looking at the magazine, as she brought the mug to his desk and gently put it down nearby.

“I wasn’t sure how you take it,” she said. “So I brought lots of choices.”

“Splash of cream and one Splenda, please.”

“You want me to—“

“And make it fast. You’re wasting time.”

“Of course,” she said, quickly ripping a packet and dumping it into the mug and following that with a small dollop of creamer. She stirred it and then looked to him for guidance. “Is that all right?”

“I’m sure it’s just fine,” he muttered, not bothering to look away from his magazine.

She grabbed the creamer and packets of sweetener and carried them hastily back to the kitchen. Her heart was beating fast and she felt a sense of building pressure. This was the way she’d felt when presenting a paper before class or at an important conference at MIT.

How silly was it to already fall into this mindset that these trivial tasks were of any importance?

And yet, she couldn’t seem to help it, because she was falling into that trap. He’d already roped her into his world, and she was at the mercy of his opinions and whims.

A moment later, she was sitting at her desk and opening the email from Easton Rather. All it said was:

Travis Hill Jr.

And then it listed his phone number.

The email told her nothing about who he was, so Kennedy got online and googled Travis Hill Jr. to arm herself with at least a little knowledge.

And it would help if Easton mentioned something about why the man hates him so
much
.

After all, it was one thing for Easton to test her a little bit before hiring her, and quite another to constantly throw new challenges at her, minute after minute, all day long.

Especially when he seemed to be making her life intentionally more difficult than it needed to be.

That was the kind of thing that could drive her crazy if he kept at it.

You wanted this job, Kennedy. You begged for it, you stalked him for it, and now
you’re already complaining that it’s too hard. Stop whining and prove that he can’t
break you with his little mind games.

The Google search proved fruitful.

Travis Hill Jr. was the President and CEO of Life Hacker Corp., which was quickly becoming one of the biggest video game producers in the world. They operated out of Silicon Valley and were about to unveil a new “survivalist” chain of first-person shooter games that was supposedly going to revolutionize the industry.

Kennedy gleaned a few helpful details from her quick research about Travis Hill.

Firstly, he’d started Life Hacker Corp. with the few thousand dollars that his mother had saved to put him through his first year of college. Somehow, he’d convinced her to let him sink that cash into a business venture, and it was paying off.

Secondly, Travis had made it clear that he was only interested in working with other young, technologically innovative companies like the one he’d built. He expressed disdain for the “suits” and “bean counters” that ran most established companies.

It was likely, Kennedy thought, that one of the reasons someone such as Travis didn’t like Easton Rather, was because Easton represented the privileged elite class that Travis was rebelling against with his business.

Travis was young, rebellious, with a chip on his shoulder—and quickly becoming rich beyond his wildest dreams. Getting him to take a phone call with Easton Rather would be a daunting task, she saw.

Kennedy didn’t even think it was such a good match, from what she personally knew of the two companies so far. The Red Agency was new on the scene but being run by Red Jameson, who had ties to all the oldest, biggest blue chip companies in the world.

Whereas Life Hacker Corp. was an upstart being run by a bunch of kids in Silicon Valley—unproven, video game nerds with an attitude.

There were even pictures of Travis—in almost every picture he was with a different girl. He looked a lot like the male version of Kennedy in a way—a boy who’d never been cool trying to make up for lost time, trying to become the cool guy that he would certainly never be.

Likely another reason someone such as Travis would despise Easton Rather.

Easton actually was cool, effortlessly so.

But whether the pairing made sense or not, she had no choice. Easton wanted that meeting and she had to make it happen. Failure was not an option.

After feeling like she’d gotten a handle on who this guy Travis was, she picked up the phone and dialed the number that Easton had emailed her. Kennedy had no idea what she was going to say, no real plan of attack.

She wasn’t sure how she would get past the assistant or secretary, but when a man answered the phone, Kennedy realized that Easton had gotten her Travis’s direct line.

“Speak,” Travis said, upon answering.

Kennedy swallowed. “Hello, is this Travis?”

“Who’s this?”

“My name’s Kennedy Saunders,” she said, trying to sound smooth and confident.

But her voice sounded squeaky and shaky to her own ears.

“Never heard of you.”

She swallowed again. This wasn’t starting off very well. “I know that. But I’m hoping I can explain my reason for calling.”

He sighed. “I’m pretty busy, ahhh…what did you say your name was?”

“Kennedy.”

“Who gave you my private number, Kennedy?”

She swallowed. “My boss.”

“Your boss.” Travis Hill Jr. chuckled. “Let’s just put that aside for the moment.”

He paused. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a very sexy voice?” he said.

The question took her completely by surprise. “I…I’m not sure what to say to that.”

Travis laughed like a teenager who knows he’s misbehaving and enjoying it.

“Say thank you.”

“I think maybe we should get back to the topic at hand,” she replied.

“But Kennedy,” Travis said, “this
is
the topic at hand. We’re talking about you, aren’t we? I’m getting to know you, so I can try and figure out why I should listen to anything you have to say.”

“If you’d give me a chance to explain myself...”

“I’m not interested in that, Kennedy. I don’t want to hear your sales pitch. And since I’m the one holding all the cards here, maybe you should humor me a little bit.”

“Fine,” she said, giving up hope of taking back the reins. “Ask me anything you want and I’ll do my best to answer.”

“Are you cute?”

“I guess that would depend on your personal tastes.”

“Is that a no?”

She hesitated. But she had to play the game—that was part of it. “No, it’s not,”

she admitted.

“Ha, I knew it. You’re cute. I can hear it. You sound like fun, Kennedy. Are you fun?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“Maybe we’ll find out together sometime. Because, I gotta tell you, Kennedy, I’m bored as fuck. You know who I am and what I do, right? So you have to know that everyone—I mean everybody—wants a piece of me right now. I’m the hot ticket item, the tastiest meal at the buffet table, and they’re all lining up to get a sample. They want to know my secret recipe. But the thing is, I don’t have to give it to them. I don’t have to give it to any of them, and I’m not going to do it.”

“But maybe you could give someone a chance. If they really deserved it,” she said.

“Who deserves it? Do you deserve it?”

“No. I don’t deserve it.”

He laughed. “Good, you’re honest. And because you don’t think you deserve it, and because you’re right—I’m going to give it to you anyway. I don’t know a damn thing about you, just that cute little voice of yours, but I want to meet you.”

“Travis, you don’t even know why I called.”

“That makes it even more interesting. I’d rather find out after we meet.”

Shit, she thought. This was getting complicated and very strange. “You really want to meet me?”

“I have just one requirement. You need to send me a current picture first.”

She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“It’s only going to work out if you send me your picture, Kennedy. I’ll tell you my private email—which people would kill for, by the way—and then you send it right over. I need you to hold up a piece of paper with today’s date and time written on it, and then take that picture and send it over within the next fifteen minutes.”

“You can’t be serious.” She laughed nervously.

“I’m very, very serious. I don’t joke about business matters.”

“This doesn’t seem like business to me.”

“Oh, but it is. This is business, and if you play your cards right, it’ll work out very well for you.”

“You told me that you hold all the cards.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t play.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it. But you better meet with me regardless, Travis. You can’t cancel if you don’t find me attractive enough.”

“I’ll meet with you no matter what,” he told her. “Just send the picture.”

“And no other qualifications on the meeting,” she said. “I want at least an hour with you, guaranteed. No strings attached.”

“Are we negotiating?”

“No. The negotiating portion is over.”

“I don’t think so, Kennedy. I think we’re still very much negotiating.”

She knew he was right, so she went for it. “I send the picture and you meet with me for an hour minimum, tomorrow.”

“You send the pic—and it must be a full body pic—and I’ll meet with you for twenty minutes tomorrow, at the destination of my choosing.”

“Forty-five minutes, minimum—at a public place.”

“Thirty minutes at The Summit Bar in the Village at noon.”

“Deal.”

He told her his email. “You have fifteen minutes to send or the deal is off. And if I show up tomorrow and you don’t look like the picture—if you get some other girl to pose or something—then the deal is off.”

“It’s going to be me in the picture,” she assured him.

“Good.” And then he hung up.

Kennedy exhaled, feeling as if she’d just gotten out of a twelve round fight. Her muscles were tense, her neck tight, and she was sweating.

She wrote the date and time on a piece of printing paper, then got up from her desk and quickly went to the bathroom, which was located just beside the entrance to their office suite.

The bathroom was large, spotless, with double sinks and mirrors. The lighting was soft and relatively flattering. She held up the paper and took a photo of herself in the mirror that captured most of her body and face. It wasn’t amazing, but it would do. She looked attractive enough—and she looked like herself. If he didn’t like it, well, too bad.

The question was whether or not he would try and weasel his way out of this meeting tomorrow.

As she opened the door and came out of the bathroom, Easton was standing there waiting for her. His arms were folded and his expression was disturbed.

“What exactly are you doing?” he said, looking down at the piece of paper in her hand.

She glanced at it and then back at him. “I’m doing what you told me to do.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m working on getting you a meeting tomorrow with Travis Hill Jr.”

Easton shook his head and smirked. “I heard you on the phone with him. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever I need to do to make that meeting, like you instructed.”

“I didn’t instruct you to have phone sex in my office.”

“I wasn’t having phone sex.” Her stomach tightened and she felt slightly sick.

She’d thought Easton might admire her tenacity and flexibility to roll with the punches, but he seemed more disgusted than anything.

“I don’t see how you going out on a date with that idiot is fulfilling your duties as my assistant. You got a meeting for yourself, not for me.”

Color rose to her cheeks. “Nowhere in our discussion did we say that I had to come alone tomorrow. So I’m bringing you with me.”