Naughty King
Page 9
Alexander studies me intently as he taps his index finger against the smooth wood of his desk. “Time is always of the essence—it’s even more valuable in my line of work. One missed tip on an investment could cost billions.”
I swallow hard as the complexity of my mistake becomes clear. “I’ll make sure Jack’s secretary fields all of my calls and notifies me if something is urgent.”
I have to keep shit together and up my game. While working for King Enterprises isn’t my real career aspiration, I can still learn a lot while I’m here—things that can help me once I’ve found my job niche.
He straightens the cuff of his shirt. “Have a car pick you up tomorrow promptly at eight. The private jet leaves at nine. Apparently the Yamada family has requested my presence at a pool party at the Hard Rock at two, and I’ll expect you to accompany me.”
My eyes widen. “You can’t possibly expect me to attend a meeting in a swimsuit! That’s . . . no . . . it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not up for discussion.” His voice rings with authority. “You want this job—you play the fucking game and be a good fucking sport while we meet with my business contacts.”
I open my mouth to lash out and tell him that there’s no way on God’s green earth that I’ll be parading around in front of him in a bikini, but the moment he arches his eyebrow, I quickly decide against it. My father will be so pissed if I screw this up. He’s counting on me to schmooze this contact of Alexander’s so that they’ll go to my father directly and make a deal for whatever part of Buchanan Industries they’re after.
“Fine, but just don’t expect me to become one of your paid whores while we’re there. This is just business.”
A playful smirk flirts across his full lips. “I like this tough act of yours—the way you’re fighting against me. It will make the moment your lips are wrapped around my cock that much more enjoyable, Margo.”
I release a bitter laugh, and it fills the inside of his office. “Those suave lines may work on the women you’re used to dealing with, but I assure you, it’ll take more than a few pretty words and a bunch of heady stares to turn my head. I don’t date assholes.”
“But do you fuck ’em? That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? I don’t ever remember promising you that we’d date. I said we’d fuck. Dating versus fucking is two very distinctly different things.”
I narrow my gaze. “That’s never going to happen.”
“We’ll see.”
We stand there staring at one another. Neither one of us says a word. I don’t know what it is about this man, but he brings out the competitive nature in me like no other. We are at an impasse—both wanting our ways. I need information to help my father, and he wants to destroy me with sex, causing me to tuck my tail between my legs in embarrassment. I don’t see either one of us conceding, so the best that I can hope for is whatever happens in Vegas to tip the scales in my favor and allow me to get the inside advantage that I need.
Alexander
I GLANCE DOWN AT MY watch and sigh. Diem being late shouldn’t surprise me. After all, I’ve known her for officially twenty-four years this weekend, so Diem being late for her own birthday dinner is a given. That girl couldn’t be on time to save her life. Dad knew that about her too, which is why he left his business to me. He knew Diem was too much of a free spirit to ever be mixed up in the corporate life.
As I pick up my cell to call her again to ask her where she is, she comes bounding up to the table with the biggest smile on her face, making her green eyes brighten and accentuating the emerald shade of the dress she’s wearing.
“You’re late,” I scold her.
Diem waves me off dismissively as the maitre d’ pulls out the chair for her. She tucks a blond strand of hair behind her ear before she makes eye contact with me. “Stop being such a stiff. I wasn’t that late. Besides, I have a really good excuse this time.”
Staying mad at my baby sister is virtually impossible. It’s odd how she got on my very last nerve when I was younger¸ but after my father died that annoyance fell away and all I wanted to do was protect her. I had to become the man of the family at twenty. When my bitch of a mother decided taking care of an ill man with cancer and her then fourteen-year-old daughter was no longer her thing, I became responsible for Diem.
“What’s the exciting news?” I give in and ask because I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s bursting at the seams to tell me something.
Her smile widens. “I sold a painting!”
“You did?” Now the little shit has me grinning like a fool. “That’s excellent news. Which piece did they buy? The self-portrait?”
Her eyes widen and the smile drops from her face. “How did you know?”
I lean back, pleased that not only do I have a mind for business, but an eye for art as well. “I know good work when I see it, and that was your best work to date. It finally made me realize that sending you to that ridiculously expensive art school wasn’t a complete waste of money.”
Diem rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t even act like the money was ever an issue. Besides, going to that school was my dream.”
I sigh. “I know it was, and even though I don’t say it often enough, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you have aspirations and goals, even if they don’t necessarily align with the educational direction I wanted for you.”
I swallow hard as the complexity of my mistake becomes clear. “I’ll make sure Jack’s secretary fields all of my calls and notifies me if something is urgent.”
I have to keep shit together and up my game. While working for King Enterprises isn’t my real career aspiration, I can still learn a lot while I’m here—things that can help me once I’ve found my job niche.
He straightens the cuff of his shirt. “Have a car pick you up tomorrow promptly at eight. The private jet leaves at nine. Apparently the Yamada family has requested my presence at a pool party at the Hard Rock at two, and I’ll expect you to accompany me.”
My eyes widen. “You can’t possibly expect me to attend a meeting in a swimsuit! That’s . . . no . . . it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not up for discussion.” His voice rings with authority. “You want this job—you play the fucking game and be a good fucking sport while we meet with my business contacts.”
I open my mouth to lash out and tell him that there’s no way on God’s green earth that I’ll be parading around in front of him in a bikini, but the moment he arches his eyebrow, I quickly decide against it. My father will be so pissed if I screw this up. He’s counting on me to schmooze this contact of Alexander’s so that they’ll go to my father directly and make a deal for whatever part of Buchanan Industries they’re after.
“Fine, but just don’t expect me to become one of your paid whores while we’re there. This is just business.”
A playful smirk flirts across his full lips. “I like this tough act of yours—the way you’re fighting against me. It will make the moment your lips are wrapped around my cock that much more enjoyable, Margo.”
I release a bitter laugh, and it fills the inside of his office. “Those suave lines may work on the women you’re used to dealing with, but I assure you, it’ll take more than a few pretty words and a bunch of heady stares to turn my head. I don’t date assholes.”
“But do you fuck ’em? That’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? I don’t ever remember promising you that we’d date. I said we’d fuck. Dating versus fucking is two very distinctly different things.”
I narrow my gaze. “That’s never going to happen.”
“We’ll see.”
We stand there staring at one another. Neither one of us says a word. I don’t know what it is about this man, but he brings out the competitive nature in me like no other. We are at an impasse—both wanting our ways. I need information to help my father, and he wants to destroy me with sex, causing me to tuck my tail between my legs in embarrassment. I don’t see either one of us conceding, so the best that I can hope for is whatever happens in Vegas to tip the scales in my favor and allow me to get the inside advantage that I need.
Alexander
I GLANCE DOWN AT MY watch and sigh. Diem being late shouldn’t surprise me. After all, I’ve known her for officially twenty-four years this weekend, so Diem being late for her own birthday dinner is a given. That girl couldn’t be on time to save her life. Dad knew that about her too, which is why he left his business to me. He knew Diem was too much of a free spirit to ever be mixed up in the corporate life.
As I pick up my cell to call her again to ask her where she is, she comes bounding up to the table with the biggest smile on her face, making her green eyes brighten and accentuating the emerald shade of the dress she’s wearing.
“You’re late,” I scold her.
Diem waves me off dismissively as the maitre d’ pulls out the chair for her. She tucks a blond strand of hair behind her ear before she makes eye contact with me. “Stop being such a stiff. I wasn’t that late. Besides, I have a really good excuse this time.”
Staying mad at my baby sister is virtually impossible. It’s odd how she got on my very last nerve when I was younger¸ but after my father died that annoyance fell away and all I wanted to do was protect her. I had to become the man of the family at twenty. When my bitch of a mother decided taking care of an ill man with cancer and her then fourteen-year-old daughter was no longer her thing, I became responsible for Diem.
“What’s the exciting news?” I give in and ask because I can tell by the expression on her face that she’s bursting at the seams to tell me something.
Her smile widens. “I sold a painting!”
“You did?” Now the little shit has me grinning like a fool. “That’s excellent news. Which piece did they buy? The self-portrait?”
Her eyes widen and the smile drops from her face. “How did you know?”
I lean back, pleased that not only do I have a mind for business, but an eye for art as well. “I know good work when I see it, and that was your best work to date. It finally made me realize that sending you to that ridiculously expensive art school wasn’t a complete waste of money.”
Diem rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t even act like the money was ever an issue. Besides, going to that school was my dream.”
I sigh. “I know it was, and even though I don’t say it often enough, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you have aspirations and goals, even if they don’t necessarily align with the educational direction I wanted for you.”
