Scandal

Chapter 5-2

WHEN SASHA WALKED INTO his office with Chuck in tow, I almost laughed. Everyone—from the front desk clerk of the building to Chuck himself—had warned me that Sasha was going to be my assistant, and yet it still felt like a surprise when she walked in. I wasn’t sure what I expected when she walked through the door, but I was certainly pleasantly surprised.

She was definitely hot. I was struck instantly by how beautiful she was. It had been almost a month since the wedding, and I had forgotten how attracted I was to her. I was reminded of it however the moment she stepped into my office. From top to bottom, the girl was incredible. It was like she’d walked right off the pages of a magazine. I couldn’t possibly hire a girl who looked like this and get away with it, right? My father would kill me. I could be breaking some cardinal rule of office etiquette by hiring someone who made my c**k instantly hard. She was perfect, from her breasts to the curves that went all the way down her body. I chuckled to myself. Who would honestly be able to get any work done with Sasha around? She had milky skin that begged to be touched. I was afraid to look at her ass twice because I ached to spank her. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me?

“Hello Sasha, it’s nice to see you again. Please have a seat.”

I watched as she sat down in front of me. “Sol, I didn't realize that you were going to be my boss. This whole thing has taken me by surprise, I'm afraid.”

“Are you uncomfortable with working for me?”

“To be honest, I'm not sure.”

I looked up at Chuck. “Can you excuse us, please? I’ll see you in the meeting in fifteen minutes.”

He nodded, “Sure thing. Take your time. The meeting can wait.”

After Chuck left, I said, “I understand why you might feel weird, especially with the things that happened at the wedding, but I assure you that I keep things in my office strictly professional. I wouldn't have it any other way. You come highly recommended, and I think you’re the best person for this job.”

“Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I need this job. And I can see by the look on your face you don't understand why I don't sit on my trust fund and go have brunch with my friends.”

I chuckled, she was a delight to talk to.

“But I'm not used to that sort of lifestyle. Maybe one day I’ll blend in just like everyone else, but for now, it's just not me—and I want something that’s just mine. I also lost my job two weeks ago, and if I don't get another quick, I'm not going to be able to make the payment on my car.”

My eyes widened. I’d never known a life in which I had to worry about whether or not I could pay for a car, and I knew she didn't even have a nice one. There was something vulnerable and real about her that I didn’t see in the females I’d had experience with in my life, and I found it endearing and extremely appealing. I couldn’t imagine what was going on in her life or what it was like to have financial worries. I had experienced bad days, but my bad days were never life-changing, and it seemed like just getting a new job would change everything for her. It was an odd feeling to have to begin to wonder how the other half lived.

“I’m so sorry, Sol, am I saying too much? I'm going to be honest with you—I do wish it wasn't you who was going to be my boss, for obvious reasons. But I want this job so badly. I know I’m qualified, and I would work very, very hard. So if you can deal with me being around, than I can deal with being around you, too. I’ve had a rough time, and I just need a break.”

I was speechless—I couldn’t even begin to respond. Her honesty was baffling. I wasn't sure I’d ever been that honest in my entire life, but there she was, putting it out there for me and just praying to God I didn't just laugh her out of the office. I imagined the conversation I’d be having with my father about this. He would frown upon it, of course, and would say she needed to go home and read or throw a party or something. The women in my father's life never worked. They belonged at home, he always said. Not that he was chauvinistic—he treated his women like queens. He just believed that spoiling meant sending them on shopping trips and vacations instead of letting them have a life of their own.

So I did what anyone in my position would do. I hired her on the spot. “You want the job? You got it. But don't tell me you have any regrets after.”

She smiled nervously. “Oh, you're that bad are you?”

“Well, let's just say that I like things my way—and only my way.”

“Fair enough. Where do we start?”

*