CHAPTER 2
Zeke
“Tell me what it is you’re looking for,” I said around the frustration coming to a rapid boil in my gut.
“That’s not my department,” Everett Knowles the Third—who the fuck introduces himself like that?—said, his snooty tone wearing on me. “I’m merely passing on the information. I was told we need to enhance our firewalls. I found you through a Google search.”
Great. The guy knew how to use the Internet at least. I wanted to ask the smug bastard to explain to me what he thought a firewall was. Fortunately for him, I didn’t have the patience for it today.
With a deep sigh, I sat up straight in my chair and tapped on the keyboard. “I can get by there in a couple of weeks. My schedule’s booked next week, but the week after looks good. Probably Wednesday or Thursday afternoon.”
“Probably?” He sounded skeptical.
Did I stutter? Was I slurring my words?
I didn’t respond because it would’ve ended badly.
“I’m an executive here,” the snooty man said, his tone translating to: I am God in a cheap brown suit. “I don’t have time for probably.”
“How about never?” I suggested, tired of this pissing match. It was obvious the executive at the five-person temp agency thought far too highly of himself.
There was a brief pause followed by, “Okay. Wednesday it is. I’ll let the boys know you’re coming.”
“Should I ask for you?” God, tell me I won’t be working with this jackass.
“Oh, heavens no. Like I said, I’m busy.”
Yep, busy keeping your chair warm with your lazy ass.
“Ask for Peter Jones,” he said. “He’s the one who asked me to call.”
I had to wonder whether or not Peter Jones knew how to use a phone. We could’ve accomplished a hell of a lot more if he did.
I jotted down the name on my notepad. “What’s his number? I’ll call him beforehand to ensure I’m not wasting my time.”
The man cleared his throat as though I couldn’t possibly have said that. They didn’t pay me the big bucks to be some wannabe bigwig’s pansy-assed bitch. If I were going to put forth the effort, I would ensure they knew who was in charge.
“If this isn’t something you’re equipped to handle, Mr. Lautner, perhaps I should speak to your supervisor.”
“I am my supervisor,” I said, keeping my tone firm, the rough edge noticeable. “But if you’d rather call someone else, I’ve got plenty of shit to do. You were the one who called me, remember?”
I could tell you, Chatter PR Global did not hire me for my customer service skills.
I was good at what I did—cybersecurity—and the companies I’d already brought on board in the short time I’d been here knew that.
However, they learned quickly that I didn’t waste time with the political bullshit.
Ask for my supervisor and you’d get my size-sixteen boot right up your ass.
Thankfully, the man wised up and rattled off the knowledgeable one’s number.
“Great. I’ll call him and set something up.”
“Fine.”
I didn’t bother with the social niceties, either, which was why I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair.
“Tank, I think I’m gonna need some stress relief tonight, boy. Dichotomy’s calling my name. You’re gonna be home by yourself for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”
My four-year-old yellow Labrador retriever lifted his head from where it rested on the couch cushion.
I thought back to my breakfast conversation with Jamie that morning. I’d reiterated my point several more times before we parted ways, but I got the feeling she was going to defy me. Perhaps I should lock her in the house with Tank. They could keep each other company.
Tank’s nose twitched as though he could read my thoughts.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get dinner first,” I told him.
His big head flopped back onto the cushion. Provided I fed him and spent at least two hours a day throwing the ball, Tank didn’t usually complain.
“That’s what I thought.” I picked up my pen and spun it between my fingers.
I spent a lot of time talking to my dog and I didn’t apologize for it.
Tank had come into my life when he was little more than a sack of fur and fumbling paws.
I hadn’t been in the market for a dog when my kid sister showed up on my doorstep, cuddling him close.
According to Jamie, she’d found him wandering our grandfather’s neighborhood during one of her weekend trips home from college.
I found it damn near impossible to tell the girl no, so I had told the then twenty-year-old that I would allow Tank to be my best friend.
That was how Tank and I came about.
Turned out, Jamie hadn’t found Tank anywhere.
She’d gone in search of him specifically for me after my shitty breakup, hoping Tank could fill the void no one else could.
Since she knew me well, she’d concocted the story to appeal to my softer side—she insisted I had one, no matter how much argument I gave her.
By the time I learned of her evil, evil ways, Tank and I had been together for two years and already bonded.
Now, I wouldn’t know what to do without him.
A knock sounded on my door, and I looked up to see Benjamin Snowden—one of the partners in the company—standing in the doorway.
“What’s up?” I asked, spinning around to face him.
He stepped inside and passed over a sheet of paper. “I’ve got a new client who’s interested in talking to you.”
“Please tell me it’s not the self-appointed CEO,” I grumbled as he set the paper down.
His dark eyebrows shot downward, his forehead creasing. “No. Why?”
I smirked. “No offense, but I prefer to talk to those who know what they’re doing.”
Ben chuckled. “I assure you, the CEO—and he’s not self-appointed—knows what he’s doing.
However, he also knows that he pays people to handle this sort of thing.
” He motioned toward the paper. “That’s the head of their cybersecurity division.
They had an incident recently, and they’d like a second opinion. ”
Fuck. I really needed to hire some people to handle this shit for me. I’d been given the go-ahead by the big dogs, but I hadn’t yet found the time. Plus, I didn’t care for people all that much, and hiring a few would mean I’d have to deal with them.
“He local?” I asked, glancing down at the chicken scratch scrawled across the paper.
“Valparaiso, Indiana,” Ben said as he squatted down to pat Tank, who had ambled over to see who I was talking to. As he rubbed Tank’s wide head, Ben’s eerie gold eyes shot up to my face. “I heard Addison’s been sneaking him treats.”
I laughed. “Yep. She’s bribing him. I told her it wouldn’t work.”
“I wouldn’t bet money on that,” Ben said as he got to his feet. “She’s quite gifted at getting what she wants.”
Most submissives were, I’d learned.
“You gonna be here this afternoon?” he asked.
“Planned on it. Why?”
“We’ve got a contractor coming by for the restaurant. I’ve got a meeting at three, Mr. Parker’s out of town until tomorrow, and Langston and Landon are cutting out at lunch. Need someone to meet with them.”
“Yeah. Sure. What do you need me to do?”
“Probably nothing. Brax should be here by then, but I’ll need someone to keep them in line. While we’ve given Brax carte blanche, I need a level head there to ensure he doesn’t go overboard.”
I nodded my head even as my cock jumped to attention at the mere mention of the cowboy’s name.
“He in town again?” I asked casually.
“This time for good,” Ben confirmed. “They’re driving in today.” He glanced at his watch. “Should be stopping by to get the keys to the apartment any minute now. Speaking of,” he said as he reached into his pocket. “Think you could pass these over to them when they get here?”
He held out a key ring that had two gold keys dangling from it.
“I promised Addison I’d take her to lunch. She tends to get antsy when Mr. Parker’s out of the office.”
I wasn’t sure Addison was the only submissive who got antsy when their Master was away. Ben wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought he was. The switch had a soft spot for both his Dom and his submissive.
“Yep.” I reached for the keys, letting the ring slide down my finger before twirling them. “I’ll make sure they get them.”
Ben’s golden gaze met mine. “Be nice to them, Zeke.”
A wicked smirk pulled at my lips before I could hold it back. “You’ve got my word. I won’t give ’em anything they don’t deserve.”
Ben rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder if they knew what they were in for taking these jobs.”
Oh, they knew, all right. Because I’d mentioned it last Monday, when they were here to scope out the apartment Chatter had so graciously offered them. I was oddly intrigued that they’d actually accepted the offers. That meant they would be here indefinitely.
My body hardened when I thought about that day.
Holding Tank’s leash with a firm grip, I waited until the elevator emptied before I stepped on and punched the button to get me up to the thirty-second floor. Just as the doors were closing, I heard someone yell for me to hold it.
I didn’t. No one had ever accused me of being chivalrous. They could wait for the next one.
Before the doors could completely shut, a hand reached in to stop them.
After briefly considering breaking those interrupting fingers, I sighed as I took a step to the side, offering some room. It didn’t make much difference. My frame filled the majority of the small, cramped space no matter where I stood.
The two men who appeared when the doors fully retracted had my entire body humming with approval.
I wasn’t sure what it was about the cowboy and the pretty boy that heated my blood and made me want to do wickedly dirty things to them, but there was something.
I’d felt it since the day I encountered them on Trent Ramsey’s private jet.
The two masochists had somehow wriggled into my subconscious, and it’d been hell not thinking about them since.
“Zeke,” the pretty boy said as he stepped on and moved to the opposite side of the elevator.
I didn’t respond.