Mia decided to treat herself to some Chinese takeout since she’d gotten the job and could theoretically afford it. Eating out was something she rarely did since she was on a tight budget, but under the circumstances, a little fun couldn’t hurt, could it?
When the doorbell rang, she assumed it was the delivery guy with her orange chicken, but when she pulled open the door, she saw a courier standing there. “Hey. You Mia Eaton?”
“Yeah….”
He shoved a thick manila envelope her direction and then a clipboard. “Sign here.”
Pulling her eyes away from the agitated expression on his face, she scrawled her name across the line, wondering what it was about life in general that had this guy so put out. “Thanks,” she said clipping his pen back on.
“Yep.” He turned and headed back toward the stairs, leaving Mia wishing she could do something to make him have a better day. It was too bad that some people were never happy when there was so much to be happy about—especially on a day like today.
Before she could close the door to take what she assumed was her contract back over to the couch and have a look at it, she spied the delivery guy with her celebratory dinner coming her way. “Hi!” she said, finding a smile.
“You Miss Eaton?” he asked, also with a grumpy disposition.
“I am.”
He thrust the bag in her direction and then turned to go without so much as a, “Have a nice day.” Mia stared at his retreating form, wondering what in the world was wrong with people. Why couldn’t they just be nice?
She carried the bag over to the couch and dug her food out, thankful they’d remembered chopsticks and her fortune cookie. Knowing she would likely get orange chicken sauce on the paperwork if she tried to eat and read at the same time, she set the contract aside and turned on her little TV to watch a sitcom while she ate.
It had been a long time since she had enough of a free schedule to watch anything on a regular basis. Before her mother died, she’d always been working or taking care of her. Now, she was always searching for a job. When she saw a rerun of an old show she used to watch with her mom before the illness, it made her smile, and she decided to watch that while she devoured her chicken. It was a little spicy, just the way she liked it; not everything in her life could be as bland as the skirt she’d worn to her interview.
Thinking of that skirt reminded her she would have to go shopping the next day. That was a little intimidating. When was the last time she’d bought a new outfit for herself? She couldn’t remember. And she knew she’d never bought nice work clothes. She wasn’t even sure where she should go. She’d have to do some research before she set out tomorrow.
Finally finished with her cuisine, she set the mostly-empty container aside and wiped her hands on a napkin before she opened the envelope.
The contract was thick, which was surprising. It would take at least an hour or two to read through it. A handwritten note slipped out and a smaller envelope. Setting the contract down next to her, she picked up the note.
“Welcome to Whitaker and Whitaker. I look forward to getting to know you better—much better. If you need anything, this is my personal cell phone number. See you Monday.”
It was signed S. Whitaker. Mia flipped it over in her hands a few times, feeling slightly embarrassed that she wasn’t even sure what the S. stood for. She had heard a few stories about the Whitaker brothers, but she didn’t really know anything about them, other than the fact that they were very good at everything they did—especially marketing. She didn’t know what they looked like or even their first names.
Except one of them started with an S.
She opened the envelope to find the prepaid credit card Ms. Smithy had told her about. It wasn’t apparent how much money was on it until she flipped it over. Her mouth dropped open. “Ten thousand dollars!” she exclaimed, her eyes bulging. That was more money than the limit she had on her actual credit card.
Thoughts of everything she could buy with that sort of money flooded her mind. She’d have to remember that it wasn’t hers for six months, so it didn’t make much sense to go spending it all right now. What if she blew through the ten grand and then hated her job? She’d have to endure it because she wouldn’t be able to pay it back. No, she needed to be cautious when she went shopping the next day.
Mia picked up the contract and flipped through it. Reading a few sentences here and there, she started to realize why it was so thick. It was very specific, even telling her where she should buy her clothes from. “Well, that will save me some time.” She read descriptions of what she should wear—how long a skirt was permissible, how tight it needed to be, about the slit. Her blouses had to have so many buttons and be undone so far. It even spelled out the sort of underwear she could and could not wear.
It suddenly occurred to Mia that this job was more than secretarial.
Who was this S. Whitaker person, and what exactly did he want with her?
Mia put the contract down and picked up her Chromebook. It took it forever to reconnect, but when it finally did, she searched for S. Whitaker.
“Sam Whitaker,” she murmured. He was hot—there was no denying that. At thirty-two, he had the face of a man who’d seen much of the world—and eaten it alive. His dark hair and green eyes, his chiseled jaw and athletic build, all made him a package she would imagine would get a lot of attention even if he wasn’t a billionaire. She imagined S. Whitaker could have any woman he wanted.
“So why does he need a contract like this for his secretary?” she wondered aloud. It made little sense to Mia.
Setting her Chromebook aside, she read through the contract again. Basically, she would be agreeing to do whatever he asked and could never accuse him of anything, which got him around any sexual harassment laws. Was it harassment if she liked it, though?
She wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. She was a good girl, always had been. The only base she’d ever been to was first, and that was with her college boyfriend. Why in the world would Mia want to work for a man who could make her do things she had never done before?
“Because he’s hot… and I’m bored?” Mia asked herself. Would she finally have time to explore what she wanted out of life?
Signing the contract seemed like a bad idea in so many ways. Not just bad—naughty. Couldn’t she just go get a different secretarial job? “Not that pays this much,” she reminded herself. “Not one with these benefits, either.” She didn’t just mean healthcare and dental. The image of Sam Whitaker stayed in her head. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it? After all, it was a place of business. It’s not like she was walking into some sort of a sex club.
Rolling her eyes at her own silliness, Mia grabbed a pen from the coffee table and signed her name and dated the contract. It was probably all a bunch of precautionary measures to ensure his firm kept up a certain image. It would all be fine. Besides, if Sam were really after a hot secretary he wanted to do things to, there were plenty of other gorgeous girls in that waiting area who were already dressed the part. She thought about the girl who’d been sent away. She seemed like she was exactly up Mr. Whitaker’s alley and she hadn’t even made it through the door.
“All so strange,” Mia muttered. She’d made up her mind, though. She would be Mr. Whitaker’s secretary—and according to the contract, anything else he asked for, too.
The mirror didn’t lie. Mia checked the length of her skirt one more time and made sure the seam was where it was supposed to be. She’d bought a full-length mirror when she’d gone shopping on Saturday to make sure she fit the specifications of her contract. She was wearing a black pencil-skirt that hit just above her knee, but with the slit in the back significantly higher, she felt slightly exposed. It wasn’t obscene by any means, nothing like that woman had worn to the interview, but it wasn’t something Mia would usually wear. She also had on a white button-down shirt. The top three buttons were undone, as her contracted said they must be, which meant one could see her lacy white bra at certain angles. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. Would everyone think she was some sort of slut? Her heels weren’t that high, but they were strappy, black, sexy and shiny. Her earrings were simple, as also mandated, and she had her hair up in a bun—but not a severe on
Mia followed Veronica through the maze, trying her best to keep track of the twists and turns this time so that she didn’t get lost on her way back to her assigned area. Eventually, they reached a door with a touchpad next to it where she would enter a code. “This is your office. Your code has already been created for you. I’ll show you how to change it some other time, but for now, it’s 8236.” Veronica punched it in, and the door beeped, glowed green, and she was able to turn the knob. Mia followed her into a decent reception area. She was surprised she’d have so much room. There was a desk with a bookshelf behind it, as well as a few chairs sitting across the room against the wall. The view out the window was spectacular. A few plants and some nice paintings and other décor decorated the area. “You’ll be able to change any of this if you want to.” Veronica gestured at the paintings and other decorations. “It’s lovely,” Mia replied, taking it all i
Mr. Whitaker was the sort of man who commanded the room without saying a word. Sitting behind his desk, his face freshly shaven, his dark hair perfectly styled, he seemed to fill up every space in the large room without opening his mouth, taking all of the oxygen away from Mia as she stared at him from the entryway.She’d remembered to knock—that was something. He couldn’t be angry at her for that. So why was he staring at her with such a narrowed gaze? Mia cleared her throat and said, “You wanted to see me, sure? I’m Mia. The new secretary.” She wasn’t even sure if he had had a say in hiring her. She hoped he had. It would be odd if he didn’t even know he had a new secretary.Sam leaned back in his chair and yanked on his royal blue tie, though it didn’t seem to loosen any. “I know who you are, Mia. Come here, please.”Mia came over, not sure what she should do when she got there. Two chairs sat on the side of the table closer to where she was standing, but he hadn’t mentioned sittin
The new secretary was hot. There was no question about that. Sam sat behind his desk, breathing in the lingering scent of her perfume. When she’d bent over to pick up that pencil off of the floor, he’d envisioned all sorts of things he’d like to do to her, things a person shouldn’t be thinking about at work—unless that person had it written into the contract that the secretary had signed that said it was all acceptable.Mia wasn’t the kind of girl he would’ve normally hired. When Veronica had asked him to check in on the interview, he’d noted she was beautiful, but she’d been so unprofessionally put together at that interview, he’d told Veronica she was a pass.Until Beau came in and insisted he hire her. It was the best choice his brother had made in a long time. Sam did his best to concentrate one work, but he kept thinking about Mia, about how her bottom curved when she bent over, the way the slit in her skirt showed just a hint of what she was hiding beneath that blac
Beau wasn’t expecting Mia to be standing in Sam’s office when he opened the door. Generally speaking, when his brother hired a new secretary, he didn’t see her much at all for the first few days, certainly not more than just in the morning and maybe in the evening. Everyone in the company knew that Sam’s secretary didn’t do anything for the company itself; she was only there to entertain him throughout the day. So when he saw her standing there, poised as if she were on her way out, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He hoped that his brother hadn’t already started asking her to perform his “special assignments.” From the look on her face, it seemed as if that might’ve been the case. She looked a little flushed. But then, she was smiling at him. So maybe he had imagined that. Maybe she was just as happy to see him as he was to see her. “Hi, Mia. How’s your first day going?” Beau asked, stepping completely into the room. “Good, thank you. How are you?”
Riding in the back of a limousine was a new experience for Mia. The closest she’d ever been to an experience like this was the Lincoln Town Car she’d ridden in from the funeral home to the cemetery after her mother had died. This was different, though. She was glad there was plenty of room so she could scoot away from Mr. Whitaker. He didn’t seem to notice that she got closer to the window as he got into the car. He was distracted, his phone in his hand. He slid into the car next to her, his spicy cologne filling the space, and she realized the reason she’d gave him plenty of room had more to do with trusting herself not to touch him, than trusting him not to make any demands in the car. When she discovered that Beau and a woman she had yet to meet, Emily, were coming with them, part of her wanted to relax a bit because she assumed that meant Mr. Whitaker would behave himself. It also made her anxious in a different way. She was certainly attracted to Beau, tho
That evening, Mia had a lot on her mind as she contemplated her first day on the job. It certainly hadn’t been what she’d expected. Sam had been in meetings the entire afternoon, and she hadn’t even seen him again after lunch. She’d felt a little disappointed in that, and she wasn’t sure why. Her entire life, she’d been told she was a good girl. She’d tried her best to do what she thought was right. The last thing she would ever want to do is disappoint her mother, but now that her mom was gone, and this alternative to the way she’d always been was presented to her, she couldn’t help but think about it. A lot. Lying in her bed, wearing a black satin negligée she’d bought when she went shopping the other day, she thought about what Sam had asked her to do. Her mind wandered to what might’ve happened if he’d touched her. She thought of what it would’ve been like to have his hands on her body instead of just his eyes. Images of Sam’s muscular body removing his shi
That afternoon, Mia was sitting at her desk, watching a movie. She would’ve felt bad about it, except, Mr. Whitaker had sent it to her and insisted that she watch it. The movie was one she’d never heard of before, and at first she was hesitant to open it for fear it would be something completely pornographic. Confusion had washed over her as she started watching. Why did he want her to watch this? But as she continued to watch the movie, she started to get an idea. Especially when the lead actress was being interrogated by the police. A knock on her door brought her out of the storyline. Wondering who it might be, she called, “Yes?” Beau opened the door and popped his head in. “Hi.” A smile took her face over. She couldn’t help it. “Hi.” “Mind if I come in?” “No, not at all.” She definitely hadn’t been expecting him but was glad to see him. “How are you?” “Good, good.” Rather than sitting in one of the chairs acro