Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
Sam
I never would have thought I'd spend so much time above the city like this, damn near in the clouds. Everywhere I go, I'm looking down at the people leading their shitty little lives.
In control.
Up here, this is where I belong. And to think, my parents left me in that grime down there to die.
Near the end of the work day, I often find myself here, taking time to look back, see how far I've come. Because I've come a long fucking way, further than I thought possible.
And it's all because of Bree.
Why else would I have invested in Companion? I turned their little start-up around, whipped them into shape, molded them to fit my vision, my needs, and made them see things my way. And what a beautiful path it's turned out to be.
Now, I'm sitting on the top floor—corner office, private entrance. I'm the visionary who gets the respect. My opinion is sought after, and as long as I have the right motivation, I can keep this company profitable, innovative. We're the ones companies are starting to look to, emulate.
I'm the one leading the charge.
And Bree is my motivation.
"Excuse me, sir."
There's a soft rapping at my office door, must be Chelsea. I call for her to come in, and she slips in, inching her head in first, probably making sure I'm not taking a call or otherwise preoccupied. Seeing that I don't have company and I'm not on the phone, she walks toward me—with some effort. Her clothes are tight, limiting her movement, so I just have to watch her slowly approach in a black knee-length skirt and a gray blouse, tucked in. She seems to glide in her black heels.
This is all a part of the show she puts on for me whenever she has business in here.
Right now, she's bringing me a late-afternoon coffee, which she sets on my desk, bending over to do so. The top button of her blouse is undone, so it's impossible to miss the peek at her full breasts.
"Here you are, sir," Chelsea murmurs, fixing me with her bright blue eyes. Her pink lips curve invitingly as I nod at her and reach for the mug.
"Thank you, Chelsea. Take the letters there on the edge of the desk and mail them for me."
Chelsea nods, then flicks her bangs out of her eyes, never looking away from my face. She'd be popular at the underground club, that's for sure.
The memory of taking Bree there brings a smile to my face, and I turn away from my secretary to look out over the city through the window. I didn't think I'd get a scene out of her so soon, nor did I plan for those girls to come up to us. No, the plan was to dance that first night, just intrigue her with the setting. I wanted to warm her up to the idea of submission, but my eager little bunny was more worried and desperate for my attention than I thought.
Poor thing. Sure, her Companion diary entries indicated she was stressed over my cold shoulder, but?—
"Oh!!"
Chelsea's cry cuts through my thoughts, shortly followed by the sound of my letters hitting the floor and scattering. She shoots me an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Green!"
I frown, ready to dismiss her, when she starts to retrieve the letters, not squatting in her skirt like a sane person but deliberately bending over to pluck the envelopes from the ground. I roll my eyes and grin.
Speaking of Companion, I wonder if she's made any updates today. I've long since memorized her device's ID, so I pull up the Companion database on my PC and type it quickly into the search bar. What populates is her whole life since she's been using my tech. Everything I want to know, I just push it through as an update with a feature marketed toward her convenience, and she eats it up every time, eager to integrate Companion deeper and deeper into her life.
There's hardly a thing I don't know about her now.
Task List was updated a couple of hours ago, looks like she finished that article. Good. After our little public session, her mind was fresh and clean again, so I'm not surprised she was able to work through her writer's block.
That's cause for celebration.
"Chelsea?" I call out, just as she's securing the last letter. The girl was shamelessly taking her time.
"Yes, sir?" she asks, eagerly turning toward me as she clasps the letters tightly to her chest.
"You can make a reservation for tonight at Chuck's."
"Chuck's?" she repeats excitedly, her eyes growing wide.
I nod, and she struts out of the room as quickly as her legs can carry her.
Yeah, Chuck's should get that kind of reaction. I know Bree is used to going to a steakhouse to celebrate occasions, like her parents' anniversaries, birthdays, whatever. And usually the same place. But Chuck's is different. It's located just outside of the city, tucked into the woods on a nice stretch of land. Only open for dinner, it's the kind of place that feels like a secret, and not too many people can get their hands on a reservation. It'll be a nice, elevated experience, something much different than what she's used to.
I pick up my phone and send her a text, going through the motions of finding out how work is going and asking her to dinner. That's the only tedious part of this whole thing—I have to ask her questions I already know the answers to.
But that's a small irritation I'm willing to bear.
After a short back and forth, she agrees to dinner. I knew she would—she doesn't have anything else planned.
I didn't give her time to find anything else to do.
I set my phone down and recline in my office chair, folding my hands in my lap. Life is easy. It just flows when you have control. And things have been going perfectly since I set this plan into motion.
Except for the night when that fucking roach thought he could touch what's mine. When we had dinner at the Skyview, he was supposed to scare her, corner her until I got there. But when I walked in, the fucker had his filthy hands on her.
And I lost it.
Even thinking about it now makes me want to drive my fist into his face, into any man's face who thinks they can touch her. That piece of shit was just like those other guys who thought they were worth anything. The only difference is that I didn't have to beat the shit out of her past dates and flings. Wave a few bills in the air, and you can get most men to walk away without a question.
Fucking losers.
I would have snuffed out that roach's life if Bree hadn't begged me to stop. He almost ruined everything, almost made me lose her.
I get that tight, sharp feeling in my chest, and suddenly, tonight can't come too soon. I want to see Bree, now. I want to feel her hand in mine, feel her in my arms melting like she belongs there.
I reach into my suit pocket and pull out Bree's white thong from the first time we were together. I keep it with me for times like this, which hit me out of nowhere. It's like a fear that she'll somehow slip away. I felt her slipping away that day in my loft, when she left without warning. And my cold shoulder redirected her attention to me. But still, I couldn't be sure it would work. I went upstairs that day and took in the scent of her, just like now.
I take a deep breath, letting the smell of Bree permeate my senses.
She's mine.
And she's not going anywhere.
I can hear Chelsea just outside the door, so I quickly tuck the thong back into my pocket, pushing aside thoughts of tasting her for now. My secretary swings the door open without knocking, grinning from ear to ear.
"I was able to secure a reservation for tonight!" she sings. "It was easier than I thought. I just dropped your name, but I thought I'd have to beg and bribe," she finishes with a giggle.
Of course it was easy. I've had a private dining room reserved at Chuck's since before I met Bree at the Cozy Cup.
"I brought these," Chelsea goes on, extending two slender boxes. "You had me pick them up earlier, and I thought one of them would be perfect for tonight."
I stand up to meet her in the middle of the room and take a look at what she has. Just a couple of ties, burgundy and emerald. I run my fingers over the fabric, appreciating the quality.
"Smart girl. Which one do you think?" I ask her.
Chelsea looks down at the box, tilting her head from left to right. "Hm, how about the emerald one? Actually," she giggles and tucks her hair behind her ear, looking up at me shyly. "I have a dress that would complement this nicely."
A brief moment of silence passes between us.
Then I let out a bark of laughter, taking the two boxes away from her. She's been flaunting herself like this, pushing herself onto me since she was hired. It's rude, I know, but I can't stop laughing. I didn't think she'd assume I was taking her to dinner.
I turn back toward my desk and walk away. "I'll see you in the morning, Chels," I finally say, tossing the emerald tie on my desk.
I spare her a glance, and her face is fully red. She gives me a nod, avoiding eye contact, and shuffles out.
I bet this is the last tight outfit of hers I'll see.
My phone buzzes, a text from Bree. She can't wait to see me tonight. That tight feeling from earlier is gone. I can't wait to see her, either.
After all, we've only just started.