Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
Stella
I don’t see him for the rest of the day, and I can’t ask when I’m allowed to leave.
Harper helped me enroll in some online classes that hadn’t been available when I worked in payroll. She showed me the interoffice education system I can log into whenever I want, even if I’m at home, all I need is my employee number. The classes range from spreadsheets to public speaking, and they’re all free. My mind spins with the possibilities.
I’m already trying to squeeze in more accounting classes through an online university, but the lessons Maddox Industries offers are split up into bite-sized modules and if I follow the curriculum, by the end of the week I’ll be able to use the software my new Mac taunts me with.
That’s one hurdle down.
Harper glances at me on her way to the elevators and pauses at my desk. “Is Zane having you work on something?” she asks at half past five.
I shake my head.
“Then you can go. We never stay later than this unless they’ve asked us to help with a project.”
“I was waiting for Zane to give me the okay.”
“He’s meeting with Richard and Larry, so you don’t need to wait for him.” She pauses. “You did great today, Stella. You’re quick to learn, and I appreciate you jumping in with both feet.”
Gratefully, I shut down my computer for the evening. I didn’t have much to do with my day. Zane didn’t leave me a list, and I’m still feeling my way around the office. I guess the same holds true for him, too. We’ll take baby steps together.
I’m glad she doesn’t add that if Zane had hired a competent secretary, she would’ve been trained to do her job and wouldn’t be struggling like I am. “I want to make Zane proud of me.”
Avoiding Harper’s eyes, I look down at the shiny surface of my desk. It’s too close to the truth, and if I meet her gaze, she’s going to see my feelings written plainly across my face.
Chasing approval from a man so out of my league. I shouldn’t be setting myself up to fail.
Harper tilts her head and smiles. “You’ve made a good start. See you tomorrow.”
Dawdling, I gather my things. I’m still hoping Zane will at least tell me goodnight, but the floor feels empty and I finally force myself to put on my coat and go down to the lobby.
There are a few stragglers leaving, and I join them.
I walk across the marble, my thrift store heels clicking, and Zarah bursts through the revolving doors, strain pulling at the corners of her eyes, though she’s smiling.
“Stella!” she exclaims, dashing up to security, and I stop and wait for the guard who knows who she is to quickly wave her through.
Everyone looks at her.
She’s dressed professionally, wearing a plain black sheath dress that hugs her slender frame and black flats. Her hair is pinned back in a style I haven’t seen on her before, and a deep red gloss covers her lips.
“Hi,” I say, not knowing what else to add. We aren’t friends, exactly, but we’re more than acquaintances.
“Let’s go get a drink.”
I don’t know where we can go that won’t check our IDs, though Zarah seems to have a list of places that don’t care we’re not twenty-one. Biting my lip, I scrabble for an excuse. I want to go home. I’m tired, and I wasted forty-five minutes of my day waiting for Zane to tell him goodnight.
“Please?” She blinks her huge brown eyes, and I’m helpless to say no. Like her brother, there’s something about her, and I’ll do whatever she asks.
“Okay.”
She grins, and the security guard who waved her through, only for her to turn around and walk out with me, lets us pass.
There’s still a glimmer of sun in the sky, but it’s fading fast. Zarah links our arms and pulls me down the crowded sidewalk. We’re not the only ones in search of after-work relief. People give us a wide berth, some because they recognize her and they whisper behind their hands, pointing, and others just to stay out of our way.
We stop at a pub not far from Maddox Industries.
The inside smells of beer and grease, but the interior is classy, all wood, chrome, and potted plants. My stomach grumbles. Lunch with Harper and the others was a long time ago.
A waitress wearing black pants, a black vest, and a crisp white shirt waves at Zarah and points to the back. She looks sharp, her makeup fresh, and I feel messy and tired in comparison.
Zarah grasps my hand and leads me to an empty booth under a TV attached to the wall.
The restaurant is packed, and I’m surprised the chatter and laughter doesn’t grate on my nerves after a long day at a new job. Any other evening after a stressful day, I would be soaking in a bubble bath and reading one of my books, but I sink onto the padded bench and curiously look around.
A cute bartender, his forearms covered in tattoos, is mixing and serving drinks, and other waiters and waitresses, looking just as sharp as the first, efficiently tend to the patrons.
“What is this place?” I ask, tugging my arms out of my trench coat.
“This is the Sweet Apple Bar and Grill. Their signature apple martini is amazing. You should try it. My friends and I come here a lot.”
That didn’t answer my question—I want to know what this place is to Zarah—but I let it go. I want to hear about her friends. I thought at Temptations she would have met up with other girls her age, maybe introduced me, but she hung onto Ash all night and didn’t talk to anyone outside our small group.
Changing the subject before I can ask why, she asks, “How did your first day go?”
She knows what Zane did, and I try not to let it hurt my feelings. She could have texted me and given me a heads-up, but maybe Zane asked her not to. I’d been worrying if I’d even have a job to go to this morning, and it would have been nice to be included in plans about my own life.
I manage to bite back a retort. It’s over and done with now, no reason to be mad, and I did get to see Zane. It meant a lot he wanted me at the meeting. “Good. I’ll need time to learn everything. I don’t have a degree in office management.”
“Tell me about it,” she says. “I went to work today, too.”
That surprises me. It didn’t seem like Zarah cared for any of the departments in the company. If something had caught her eye, she wouldn’t have sunk as low as the basement. I chose accounting because the career counselor at the high school I attended recommended it, I happen to be good at it, and it offers a steady paycheck, but math isn’t for everyone. I certainly couldn’t afford to follow my passion. Even if I knew what that was.
“Did you decide on a department?” I feel sorry for the person who will train Zarah. She’ll need to teach Zarah everything from the ground up. She should go to school first. If I wouldn’t have had my degree and my short time in payroll, I never could have accepted Zane’s promotion. I still feel woefully inadequate.
“I’m working for Ash,” she says, and I sit back, my heart slamming at the sound of his name.
“Doing what?”
Just then, a waitress brings us menus and takes our drink orders, and Zarah doesn’t answer. I copy Zarah and order the same martini she does and let her order me a cheeseburger and seasoned French fries. I know why Zane and Zarah get their way with me. One, because I want to please them, and two, they’re navigating my way through this new world and I’m only too happy to let them.
The waitress leaves, our menus tucked under her arm, and Zarah leans forward. “I’m learning how to run his business. Black Enterprises does a little bit of everything.”
“Ash doesn’t work alone, does he?” Ash is Zane’s age. I suppose it’s possible Ash is a self-made billionaire, but when we met, I thought he had a spoiled and pampered air about him. That kind of attitude only comes from being spoiled and pampered. Not working for years to create a business from nothing.
“No,” Zarah says, confirming my suspicions. “His dad started their company, about the same time my dad started ours.”
“What is he asking you to do?” I can’t wrap my mind around the idea Zarah is helping Ash do anything of importance. She isn’t educated, and the only other thing I know of her is she likes to party.
She blushes. “Well, mostly I served coffee and drinks all day, but Ash let me sit in on some meetings and I was able to listen and take notes.”
I bet that didn’t do her much good. I shouldn’t be a snob—we’re talking about a level of business I’ll never achieve. Sitting in and taking notes for Zane is one thing, but understanding what the notes mean is quite another.
The waitress serves our martinis, and Zarah sips half of hers, leaving a stain of lip gloss along the rim. “How did your day go?”
I debate telling her about the meeting with the FBI, but I decide against it. That’s for Zane to tell his sister in private. While I sip my bright green martini (it really is good) I tell her about learning the software on my computer and that when I left for the day, Zane was still in meetings.
According to Zarah, Ash allowed her to sit in on those meetings, and I bite back a ping of jealousy. Why didn’t Zane want me with him?
Because unless he needs me to record the minutes, that’s not a secretary’s job. I have a real position in Maddox Industries, and Zarah could be getting paid to look pretty or Ash may not be compensating her at all. I have no idea what their relationship is like. I’m scared of him, and the less I know, the better.
The minute we’re finished eating our meals, I say, “I need to head home,” and push my empty plate away.
Zarah’s face falls, but she brightens. “Now that Zane’s back to work, we should plan a party. He needs to let the city know he’s taking over.”
I would think showing up at the office every day would do that, but if Zarah thinks Zane needs a party, then I guess he needs a party.
“Have fun with that.” I slip out of the booth and look around for the waitress to pay our check.
Zarah slides off her side of the bench and walks away. My heart falls. I thought she would flag our waitress down, or at least find out the total and leave some cash on the table.
She weaves her way around the crowded floor, and scrambling, I pull a fifty out of my purse. That fifty represents a lot of money to me, and my hand trembles as I anchor it under my empty martini glass.
I never did get around to skimming my sign-on package. I was too caught up in learning my job and consoling Zane after the meeting to think about it. Stupid now. I don’t know how much I’m being paid, or how often. It’d be nice to know if I’m hourly or salary.
I need to stop losing myself in Zane’s eyes and start thinking about my own welfare. I need a reality check or I’m going to be living on unemployment checks.
I push the bar’s door open and join Zarah in the cool night’s air.
“What were you doing?” she asks.
“I paid our bill.” I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice.
Zarah laughs, amused, and my cheeks heat in embarrassed anger.
“We own that place. It’s why the waitress didn’t bring our check. She knows who I am, silly.”
I frown, humiliated. How was I supposed to know that?
Her laugher fades, and she says, “I’m sorry. I should have told you. She’ll appreciate the tip.”
I bristle. I wasted fifty dollars. Trying not to sound bitchy, I say, “I better get home. It’s late.”
“Will you help me plan the party? Can I text you tomorrow?”
If this party is going to reestablish Zane in thebusiness world, then I should have my hand in it. No doubt several important business associates will be invited, and Zane will introduce me as his new assistant. Being a part of the planning will benefit me, too, so I nod. “Sure. Tell me what I need to do to help.”
“I’ll clear it with Zane first. He won’t like it, but he’ll know it’s a good idea.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Zarah.”
She pulls me into a hug and pushes something into the pocket of my coat. “I’ll talk to you later,” she says and smears a kiss over my cheek. She hurries down the sidewalk the way we came.
I watch her stride down the sidewalk, and I feel a mix of envy and pity. The girl has the whole world in her hands, and she doesn’t know what to do with it.
The crowd consumes her, and I lose sight of her figure.
Only then do I look to see what she shoved into my pocket.
I pull out a hundred dollar bill.
She reimbursed me for dinner.
Maybe she understands more than what I give her credit for, or maybe she’s kinder than I thought. All I know is I should cut her some slack.
A hundred dollars.
Tonight, I came out ahead.
But I don’t think with the Maddoxes I always will.
By the time the bus drops me on my street, it’s almost eight. My apartment’s dark, and no one greets me. When I moved out of Maryanne’s house, I thought about adopting a cat, but in the end, I decided not to. Pets can be expensive if they need medical care, and I’m not home enough to enjoy one. On lonely nights like this, it would be nice to have a fluffy friend wind around my ankles and welcome me home. Maybe I can afford a pet with this new position. Maybe two so they can keep each other company while I’m at work.
I toe off my shoes and leave the living room dark. I’m tired and going straight to bed sounds like heaven. I have another early morning and busy day ahead of me. Harper said there’s a lot more to show me, and I’m grateful she’s taken me under her wing. What she’s teaching me is invaluable. If Zane and I don’t work out, in whatever and whichever way that can mean, what I’m learning will help me find a comparable job in a different company if I decide accounting isn’t what I want to do anymore.
I change into my pajamas, and in the bathroom by the glow of the nightlight, I wipe off my makeup. I didn’t check to see if I had any messages, and I double back to the kitchen and to my landline phone. The light’s blinking on the old-fashioned answering machine the lady across the hall gave me the summer she moved out. I press Play Messages. I have three gross heavy-breathing hangups, but then Maryanne’s voice fills my apartment.
“Stella, I saw your picture. You should stop by sometime this week. I have a new girl. She’s only been here a couple of months, and she’s having a rough time. She needs to talk to someone who understands what she’s going through.”
Maryanne always said it was her calling to take in troubled teen girls. Sometimes more than one at a time, though fortunately I was alone when I lived with her. Maybe she knew I needed her to myself. I had three blissful years as she taught me how to be a young woman. I’d never be where I am right now without her.
I’ll call her tomorrow on my way to work. If she says a girl need some help, I’ll do my best. I owe her.
The first thing she says comes back to me, and instead of erasing the message, I play it again: “Stella, I saw your picture.”
There’s only one picture I can think of, and hauling my laptop into bed, I log on.
There are several websites dedicated to the comings and goings of the city’s elite, but one stands out above the rest as the tackiest. It doesn’t surprise me our photo pops on the home page of Truth or Dare . Zane partying at Temptations is hot news, and we stand frozen in front of the paparazzi, his arm wrapped around me, as the featured story of the weekend and already thousands of people have commented on the article. I click on the picture and read the very short post that goes with it.
Zane Maddox, 25, made an uncommon appearance Saturday night at the nightclub Temptations. Seen with Zane is his sister, Zarah Maddox, 20, and Stella Mayfair, also 20.
I guess since I’m an employee at Maddox Industries, it wasn’t difficult for them to dig up who I am. At least they didn’t mention I was only a payroll clerk.
Six months ago, returning to the States from a European vacation, Lark and Kagan Maddox were tragically killed in a plane crash over the Atlantic. It was speculated that Maddox Industries would be sold when it seemed Zane, heir to the Maddox fortune along with his sister, Zarah, did not immediately take the reins of the company. Zane, appearing at Temptations, with a date, too, gives us hope that he is slowly coming to terms with his parents’ untimely deaths.
We do look like a couple, Zane’s hand protectively resting on my back and him leaning toward me to whisper something into my ear. Even through the screen, I can see the chemistry we have between us, but shadows rest beneath his eyes and tension pulls at his mouth. Zane is a long way from coming to terms with the loss of his parents.
The article told me one thing, though. Zarah’s right. King’s Crossing’s society will want a party to welcome him back, and the article made me aware of one other thing—Zane taking over Maddox Industries catapults him to one of the sexiest, richest, most eligible bachelors in King’s Crossing.
Filthy rich.
Insanely handsome.
In control of the largest, most powerful company in the city, the entire United States, maybe even the world.
Next to Black Enterprises.
The women wanting him at Temptations is only the start, and there is no way I can compete.
I love the way he looks at me in the photo, the way he buries his nose in my hair. He’s telling me not to speak to the reporters, but I pretend he’s saying something else. How much he loves me, or what he wants to do to me when we’re finally alone.
Desire coils in my belly, and my pussy slicks with heat.
I set my laptop aside and focus on Zane’s face as I lie back onto the pillow. Getting off to Zane and the way he kisses is better than any romance novel. I remember the way his lips teased mine and how he tasted—rich, sensual, and a touch of sadness—that drives me crazy.
My fingers slide under my panties, and I’m dripping.
Zane’s big, and his cum tastes divine. Salty, tangy. When I sucked him off, I swallowed all of it, aching to have part of him inside me. I would have given myself to him in a different way, but I didn’t have any condoms. At only twenty, I don’t want kids yet, and I don’t want anyone accusing me of trapping him. If Zane Maddox and I are going to be together, it will be because we fall in love and no other reason.
Thinking of Zane and the way he kisses, I wet my fingers and find my clit. It’s huge, and the ball of nerves quivers under my touch.
I pretend my fingers are his.
“Spread your legs for me, Stella,” he’d whisper in my ear, and I would comply, eagerly, because I want to please him. I’ll do whatever he asks.
His fingers swirl over my clit, then push into me, one, then two, stretching me. They’re long, and the tip of his middle finger finds the sensitive spot inside me. He devours my mouth, runs his lips down my jaw to my neck, and lower where he captures my nipple between his teeth.
I squeeze my own nipple, and my nails dig into the tender flesh.
I’m almost there, and I imagine Zane’s fingers fucking me while he nips at my breasts.
“I love you, Stella,” he says in my fantasy. “Come for me, come on my fingers. Show me you love me, too.”
I do, moaning his name.
Staring at his picture online, I shiver, the aftershocks of my orgasm sparking through me.
I want the real thing.
Soon, but not too soon.
Zane has chosen a rough path, and I’m not in his line of sight right now. The company his father founded is, and all I can do is support him if and when he needs me. And if not, he promoted me to a position that will change my life. For that alone, I’m grateful.
I change my panties, wash my hands, and brush my teeth.
My heart sinks when I search through my closet for something to wear to work. I may need to do a bit of shopping. A new blazer, a couple of new skirts. Where, I have no idea. What I wore in payroll worked just fine. I can’t compare with Harper or the other secretaries on the twenty-fifth floor, but I know someone who could help me do that, someone who has fabulous fashion sense, and I kick myself for not thinking of it sooner.
Visiting Maryanne, helping Zarah plan a party, and finding new things to wear, this week is shaping up to be a busy one.
I can’t get Zane’s kisses out of my mind, and my fingers find their way between my legs wanting another go.
Not as good as the real thing, but I’ll have to make do.
For now.