Powerful Men 2: Four More Alphas Who Seize Control
Powerful Men 2
Four More Alphas Who Seize Control
By
Carla Kana
Copyright
©
2012 Carla Kane
First Published 2012 by
The
Blue Bouzouki Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transferred in any form without prior written permission from the author or her representatives. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or
dead,
is entirely coincidental.
Also by Carla Kane:
Four Scorching Stories of Alpha Males who Take Control
Contents
Executive Disgrace: Tied Up on the Billionaire’s Yacht
Dirty Cops: Gangbanged by the Captain’s Men
Ad Men: Seduced by the Sixties Executive
Hung Judge: Sin in the Southern Courtroom
Tied Up on the Billionaire’s Yacht
The sun was sweltering down on the harbor as Lindsey waited by the yacht. There was still no sign of Dewhurst, but then that was pretty much to be expected. After all, billionaire industrialists had a way of turning up late to things, even when they’d set the time and location themselves.
Beside her, tied to the long polished wooden harbor, Dewhurst’s huge luxury yacht ebbed gently in the cool blue water. Onboard, the decks buzzed with activity as the maintenance staff and repairmen prepared the vessel for the day’s trip. Most of the workers looked pretty poor and seemed to speak Spanish rather than English whenever they grumbled commands at each other. As she watched them, Lindsey figured this was probably just about as close as they’d ever get to the playground of the over-classes.
And as for her?
Well maybe if she played her cards right then this would only be the first step.
Lindsey had spent the last ten years working her way up through the levels of Dewhurst Industries since taking a job at entry-level at the age of nineteen. They’d been a busy ten years; there hadn’t been much room for fun or leisure of any kind in all that time. But that was the nature of her ambition. That was how you had to operate if you wanted to rise all the way to the top.
Or, if you were lucky, you could be born there – like Leo Dewhurst had been. Leo was the joint controller of Dewhurst Industries, a post he shared with his half-brother in England, Maximilian St. James Dewhurst. That wasn’t to say that Leo wasn’t also an excellent strategist in his own right, (he
was
widely revered as a brilliant, if somewhat unconventional, thinker), but nobody could deny that he’d had more than a decent head start to begin with.
Since taking the reins from their father, the two brothers had lifted the company to the very summits of the corporate world and everybody knew that Leo was the real driving force behind that lightning ascension. And now here she was, about to embark on a most intimate meeting with the man himself, onboard his own yacht out on the sparkling blue oceans of the Florida Keys. Was it any wonder she had butterflies in her stomach?
Leo Dewhurst was well-known as a relentless micro-manager and once an employee reached a certain level within the company it could be taken as a given that Leo, one way or another, had had a say in their assuming that position. But Lindsey was going even further than that. For ten years now she’d been on a lightning ascension of her own, maximizing profits and productivity in every position she’d attained no matter where they’d placed her across the country. So when she requested a personal meeting with Leo she definitely expected that she would be seen by the man himself. What she hadn’t expected, was that he would invite her on a day-long deep sea fishing trip on his own private yacht.
She looked at her watch again and smiled. Forty-five minutes – not exactly
outrageously
late, at least not for a committed Master of the Universe. Perhaps she’d have time for a cigarette then, she considered. These days smoking was seen by many as a weakness and it was just those kinds of details that one had to be especially attuned to in this game. Nothing escaped scrutiny when that much power and control were involved, no matter how trivial.
She reached into her bag and took out a cigarette, lighting it quickly with her zippo. It was her first in hours and she savored that long, smooth first inhalation. Something caught her eye at the end of the dock and she looked up. Damn it, she thought, it was him!
There he was, dressed in a beige suit and white shirt, unbuttoned liberally halfway down his muscular chest and sans the tie and
pocket square
. His eyes were hidden behind thick black sunglasses and his handsome mouth was frozen in a stern, rigid frown.
Beside him, trying to keep up with his quick, purposeful
stride,
was a geeky-looking young woman holding a clipboard and reading from it as she stumbled after him.
Obviously an assistant of some sort.
Lindsey smiled coolly as they approached and exhaled her breath of smoke. Too late to hide it now, the only choice was to own it proudly.
‘Hi,’ she said, putting her hand out as Leo and his assistant arrived before her, ‘Mr. Dewhurst, Lindsey Kennedy. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.’
The wealthy industrialist paused and looked her up and down. He was an exceptionally handsome and well-manicured man, but there was little in his demeanor that one might call approachable.
‘That her?’ he grunted to his assistant as he stared at Lindsey from behind the opaque barrier of his shades.
‘Uh yes sir,’ the girl answered, ‘Lindsey Kennedy.’
‘You didn’t tell me she was a smoker.’
‘I
– ’
the assistant began, before lowering her eyes. ‘No sir.’ It was the behavior of someone who knew better than to argue, regardless of whether they were right or wrong.
Lindsey for her part was astonished by the rudeness of the man. She’d heard he could be curt but this was pretty damn offensive here – even if he was a billionaire.
‘Ok,’ Leo said bluntly, apparently to no one in particular, and then stepped onto the gangway without another word. He continued onto the deck and into the cabin of the yacht.
Lindsey turned to the assistant. ‘Do I follow him?’ she asked.
The girl shook her head vigorously. ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘that wouldn’t be a good idea. He’ll call for you when he’s ready.’
‘I see,’ Lindsey nodded, half pitying the girl and half-ways feeling slightly disgusted by her too. She seemed like she was terrified and in awe of Dewhurst, like he was a Greek god or something.
‘You shouldn’t smoke, you know,’ the assistant advised as Lindsey drew another line on the cigarette. ‘
it’s
a sign of weakness.’
Lindsey smiled with tight lips. This girl should learn to watch her mouth. She shrugged. ‘Well we all have our vices,’ she said and then dropped the butt on the ground, crushing it beneath her expensive heels.
‘I’m only trying to help,’ the girl said, twirling her frizzy hair and peering at Lindsey sideways from behind her huge spectacles. ‘Mr. Dewhurst can be very sensitive and temperamental about these things. It’s best not to give him any excuse to get angry with you.’
Angry, Lindsey wondered? It was a strange choice of word. ‘Sure,’ she said, ‘thanks.’ Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all, just misguided.
‘So you’re his assistant then?’
‘Yes,’ the girl said, ‘one of them anyway.’
‘Do you like it?’
The girl lowered her eyes shyly as though she had something to hide. ‘Well it is a wonderful opportunity,’ she said, ‘I mean I get to travel all over the world, meet the most powerful people alive. Who else can say that?’
Who indeed, Lindsey observed. Well maybe she could – if she managed to pull this off today anyway. And if she did, it certainly wouldn’t be in the vocation of anybody’s personal coffee and doughnuts girl either. She smiled. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ she said to the assistant.
Just then, the Cuban dock workers began to file down the gangplank and off the yacht.
‘Miss Kennedy,’ Leo Dewhurst called from on deck, ‘
come
aboard. We’re ready to raise anchor.’
Lindsey nodded at the billionaire and then turned towards the gangway, waiting for the workers to all get off. ‘Aren’t you coming?’ she asked the assistant, noticing that the girl hadn’t moved.
‘No,’ she answered, ‘Mr. Dewhurst will be travelling alone today.’
‘Ok,’ Lindsey nodded, ‘well it was nice meeting you then.’ As more of the maintenance staff left the vessel, Lindsey wondered if the girl meant
completely
alone. There certainly didn’t seem to be anybody else staying behind anyway. Wasn’t that a little… unconventional, to say the least?
At last the plank was cleared and she stepped onboard. Dewhurst had already disappeared back into the cabin and as she stood on the deck the plank began to slide automatically onto the boat, powered by some unseen mechanical fixture. Immediately she heard the engine start and the yacht began to pull away from the harbor. She watched the geeky young lady clutching her clipboard on the harbor beside the Cuban boat workers, as they disappeared rapidly behind her. Bon Voyage.
The boat was a beautiful specimen. Every surface gleamed in the sunlight, polished to perfection. The floor was of exquisitely-crafted wood and the white metal of the building was smooth and free from any flaw, no matter how slight. They were leaving the shoreline at great speed behind them. Overboard, the sound of the cool ocean waves rushed against the boat as it surged out into the sparkling Atlantic. There was still no sign of Dewhurst.
Figuring now that it must be he himself who was piloting the vessel, Lindsey stepped into the cabin. Inside, the décor was as luxurious as any château or mansion she’d ever been in, the floor beneath her feet was smothered by plush, priceless carpet and the walls were covered with mahogany paneling and tasteful satin wallpaper. At the end of the hallway she saw a steep winding staircase leading to the upper deck. She headed on through.
The room at the top of the steps consisted almost completely of glass and was filled with futuristic-looking control panels. Standing with his back to her and his hands on a steering wheel, was Leo Dewhurst.
‘Mr. Dewhurst,’ Lindsey said, ‘there you are. I was wondering where you’d gone.’
‘Please,’ the industrialist replied gruffly without turning around, ‘go back downstairs. The lounge is at the end of the hallway and you can fix yourself a drink. I’ll be with you in a moment.’