Anything He Wants 2: All's Fair

Anything
He Wants 2: All’s
Fair

by
Sara
Fawkes

Copyright
2012.
All rights reserved.

1

Limousines
were roomier than I remembered. Of course, the last time I’d been inside one
was high school prom and it had been packed to the gills with friends and their
dates.

I snuck a
glance at the handsome man near me in the back seat of the limo. He ignored me
for the moment, focused on the tablet in his lap and leaving me to my own
devices. My leather handbag sat in my lap and I hugged it close, still reeling
over the day’s events.
Was I really on my way to Paris?

The last
two days had been crazy. Twice while at work I’d been seduced by the gorgeous
stranger I saw every morning: first in the public elevator, then later in the
parking garage. My out-of-character and shameless behavior had me confused
about my sanity, but I’d been given the shock of my life only an hour earlier
when I found out the same dark stranger was a billionaire.

Worse
yet, he was my boss.

Jeremiah Hamilton,
CEO of Hamilton Industries, a multinational business conglomerate to rival
anything Trump ever produced, sat across from me in the dark limo. I hadn’t
recognized him, never even realized who he was, when I rode that elevator. That
thought was embarrassing; although he didn’t have a television show or his name
slapped on magazine covers that I’d actually
read
, I still should have
known what the CEO of the company I worked for looked like. Now it seemed I was
heading to the airport to fly with him to Paris.
As his
personal assistant.
With a forthcoming contract whose stipulations
revolved around the phrase “anything he wants”.

As far
as ranking in the Worst Days Ever, this was in the top five.
Definitely
a tie for first on Most Mindboggling Day Ever.

Manhattan
rush hour traffic being the normal tangle of pedestrians and vehicles, I didn’t
pay much attention to our route, too caught up in my thoughts. Too soon however
I noticed a traffic decrease and the car passing planes behind a tall fence.
Looking out the window I saw with some surprise the sign for Teterboro Airport.
The New Jersey airport wasn’t as big as its New York City counterpart and while
I’d never flown through there, I knew it served a large number of private
flights and airplanes. I’d only ever been through JFK so the smaller airport
was something new. I saw a number of small charter planes parked along the
asphalt, the kind taken by tours and the very rich.

Well,
I suppose today that’s us.
The thought sent a wave of chills up my spine and I
shivered, rubbing my arms.
Oh God, what was I getting myself into?

 “You’re
sure I won’t need clothes?” I asked for the third time as we pulled into the
terminal. I hadn’t been allowed to bring anything with me aside from personal
effects already in the office – namely, what was in my purse – and had nothing
but the day’s work clothes I was still wearing. The skirt and blouse were clean
but hardly enough for any kind of overseas trip.

“They
will be provided for you,” Jeremiah assured me. “Your contract will go over all
of this.”

It was
the same answer I got anytime I asked him a question about this surprise trip.
At
this rate, my contract will be longer than Tolstoy.
The flippant thought
did nothing to settle my nerves.
I haven’t signed anything yet. I can still
leave, find another job.

The
sudden image of me flipping burgers for a living made me shudder and a wave of
sorrow washed over me.
Is that where I’ll end up? Could this really be my
last chance?
I looked up to see Jeremiah watching me. It was like he could
read my mind but there was no emotion on his stoic face. Frustrated, unwilling
to let him see my indecision, I clenched my jaw and refused to look away first.

The door
opened, breaking our staring contest. I grabbed my bag and climbed out past him,
but thought I saw humor on his face as I passed.
So he likes conflict
, I
thought as we were hustled into the building.
Good, because I’m not going to
crawl and beg for respect.

An image
popped into my head of me on my knees in front of him, looking up into that
gorgeous face, and I felt a flutter in my belly.
Aw, dammit.

The speed
by which we passed through security was a novel experience. The most grueling
part of the process was security poking through my purse and finding the
underwear from yesterday I’d forgotten were still there. My whole body heated
at that discovery but they remained professional. Once security cleared us we
moved through the small waiting area and were taxied across the tarmac to our
waiting flight.

Long and
sleek yet a great deal smaller than I was used to flying in, the airplane
wasn’t anything like any commercial jets I’d ever flown in. There was no way
I’d ever travel in something like this; normal girls like me never so much saw
the inside of one of these unless they were flight attendants or pilots. The
interior was as posh as the outside promised with leather seats twice as wide
as anything I’d ever used before in an airplane. The pilot allowed us to take
our seats before closing the door and retreating into the cockpit. Impressed by
my surroundings, I started playing with the various gadgets and implements
attached to my seat. It even had its own private phone under one thick arm
rest, which I found amusing.

A thin tablet
slid onto the table I’d unfolded, the same one I’d seen Jeremiah working with
earlier. Startled, I glanced over to see Jeremiah seated in a nearby chair.
“What’s this?” I managed, my earlier amusement dimming.

“I drew
up your contract on our way here.” When I hesitated, he leaned in to catch my
gaze. “You knew this was coming.”

“No
joke.” The sarcastic reply belied my nervous tension.
Am I signing my life
away?

“A car
will take you home if you wish to leave.” He pulled a silver stylus from his
jacket pocket and held it out to me. “The choice is yours.”

I
snatched the stylus from his fingers, clenching it in my fist so I wouldn’t
betray my shaking. Sitting back in the seat I picked up the tablet and read the
whole agreement. The non-disclosure portion was a reality check and made my
lips twist cynically.
Of course he wouldn’t want me blabbing to the world.
Everything
I’d need would be provided but I would have to forfeit all items given me by
the company if I broke the terms of the contract.
Blah
blah
blah
.

I’d grown
adept at deciphering legalese during college but the contract was fairly
straightforward. On coming close to the end however I did trip over one
stipulation we hadn’t discussed.
“Fifty thousand dollars?”
I squeaked, looking up in surprise.

He
nodded. “If you are still in my employ in six months, you’re entitled to a
bonus,” he said, quoting the contract almost verbatim. “It, along with any
weekly paychecks, won’t be taken from you should you terminate the contract.”

So
even if I quit I’ll still get something out of this.
Seeing it in writing
helped my mind come to terms with this absurd choice. The contract, while vague
on my specific duties, gave a professional vibe to the whole situation and made
me feel, well, less slutty.
Who knows, maybe this is a standard contract
with the rich and famous. I’d hardly know otherwise.

Still, I
hesitated.
I can still leave,
I thought, staring at the stylus in my
hand.
I can end this silly
charade,
take a taxi
back to my apartment...

...and
then what?

Rent was
coming due and my roommate, an old college friend who’d given me a chance when
I had no options, wouldn’t be able to cover it all herself. Unemployment monies
took too long; the idea of finding another job was daunting and there was a
good chance I’d find nothing. The thought of living in a shelter made my blood
run cold and helplessness of my situation threatened to overwhelm me.

Jeremiah’s
face held no pity as he regarded me patiently. He’d made it abundantly clear
what this contract entailed – my “interview” had been me splayed across his
desk as he took liberties with my body that left me a moaning, panting mess.
The
memory made me want
to cringe and hide; I’d never
been
that
kind of girl and yet a stranger had seduced me not once but
three times in a twenty-four hour span.  

I have
no other choice.

I read
through the contract twice, the enormity of my path weighing on me, then with
shaky fingers I signed my name across the bottom and handed back the tablet.
Jeremiah reached up and pressed the attendant button. Immediately the engines
began gearing up, and I made sure I was buckled in. I gripped the chair tight
and tried to ignore my own unease about the flight and the man seated across
from me.

“You
don’t like flying?”

I kept my
eyes closed and feigned sleep as the engines geared up and propelled us down
the runway. The process was smooth and not as loud as I’d imagined for such a
small plane, but I didn’t breathe easy until we were in the air.

We were
still climbing when Jeremiah took off his belt and stood, heading to the main
area behind me. I kept my eyes straight ahead, determined to ignore his
presence, until a hand carrying a glass of clear liquid appeared before me. “I
don’t drink,” I said.

“Not even
water?”

I didn’t
find his amusement charming but took the drink from his hand with a mumbled,
“Thank you.”

“There’s
food in the bar if you need something more substantial.”

“I’m not
hungry, thank you.”

My
stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, exposing my outright lie. “Okay
fine, maybe a little.”

His lips
compressed and I had the feeling he was trying to keep from smiling. “You
really had no idea who I was, did you?”

Suddenly
not in the mood for conversation, I huffed out a breath and shrugged.
“Apparently, you’re not as popular as you seem to think.”

He took
my sarcastic words in good humor. “And how popular am I?”

Squirming
in my chair, I looked up to see amusement crinkling the edges of his eyes.
He
does stoic really well, except his eyes
. They were the most beautiful green
I could remember seeing on a man, vibrant against the olive complexion and dark
hair. Realizing I was staring, I cleared my throat and struggled for an answer
to his question. Witty rebuttals escaped me however and I shrugged, taking a quick
sip of my water.

I ignored
his chuckling. “You may want to rest,” he said, “this is going to be a long
flight.”

As he
went to the rear of the airplane I stayed in my seat, leaning it back and
snuggling into the large chair. Unfortunately my stomach, now aware of food
nearby, wouldn’t let me rest. I managed to stall maybe half an hour, busying
myself with the various gadgets around me, before finally getting up and
heading back to see what was available.

When I passed
my boss he was sitting in one of the wide chairs, a glass of some dark liquid
in his hand. I could feel his eyes on me as I went into the kitchen alcove and
poured myself some orange juice before peeking at what food was available. I
snagged a pre-made chicken sandwich with ingredients that made it sound like
fine dining, and ate in the small room.