Once Upon A Time Read online

  “Excuse me, I’m here to see Mr. Black?!”

  Her back straightened as I finished and she finally peeled her eyes from her nails long enough to notice me. Rude!

  “Take a seat.”

  She indicated with her eyes that I should park my ass on the black leather sofa behind me before turning back to her nails. Was everyone so freaking rude around here?

  “I—“

  “Take. A. Seat,” she spoke as though she’s talking to a toddler, her gaze still not meeting mine.

  “Thanks.” I turned, about to take a step towards the seating area but something stopped me.

  No, not now. Filter, don’t move. Stay right where you are… oh, you’re going? Like, now?

  I turned back to the rude receptionist and slapped my hand against the glass counter of her desk. She nearly fell out of her seat and I couldn't help but chuckle softly.

  Payton: 1 Receptionist: 0

  “I don’t know what’s jumped up everyone’s ridiculously tight ass this morning, but the next time you treat me like I’m worth nothing more than the grimace on your face after walking into a pile of steaming shit on the sidewalk, I assure you, your overly made-up face will see the heel of my Louboutins.”

  With a wink, I turned and sat my ass down on the sofa, lingering long enough to see the shocked expression on her face.

  Sheer Prada blouse: $700

  Ridiculously high Louboutins: $1,200

  Shocked expression on a receptionist who needed a personality transplant: Priceless.

  I pulled out my phone as I felt the burning from the receptionist’s eyes. I restrained myself from flipping her the bird and sent a text to Kylie.

  Me: So I may have just threatened the receptionist’s face with your shoes.

  Her reply was immediate. Of course it was; I was talking about her twelve hundred dollar Louboutins.

  Kylie: If you scuff them, I'll kill you. And why the hell are you threatening the receptionist?

  Me: Relax, they’re fine. I think I got all the dog crap off on the way in…

  Kylie: You’re fucking hilarious. Anyway, receptionist?

  “Ms. McKenna?”

  Huh? Oh.

  Me: Gotta go!

  I threw my cell back in my purse as I stood and noticed a short blonde woman stepping towards me.

  “Kate McKenna?” She smiled. At least someone knows how!

  “Sorry, I’m Payton Miller. I've been sent in Ms. McKenna’s place due to a last minute meeting she couldn't get out of.” I placed my hand out and she shook it warmly. “I hope that’s okay.”

  Kate better damn well thank me for that. They have no idea Kate is more than likely having a five hundred dollar facial while ordering around a group of flustered women in the salon.

  “We can work around it, Ms. Miller.” She smiled.

  “Please, call me Payton.”

  “Okay. Well, if you’d follow me, I'll show you to Mr. Black’s office, Payton.”

  With a kind nod, I followed the well put together blonde through a set of black wooden doors. The doors opened up into an even larger foyer, the design still pretty much black, giving a sense of flow about the place.

  My gawking came to a stop the minute we came to a single black door. I noticed the doorknob wasn't the norm; it was silver letters that spelt "Black" in a scripted font. So this was how you knew you’d made it in the world, when you’re pompous enough to have your name made into a doorknob. This Mr. Black must be trying to make up for something he’s clearly lacking.

  “Mr. Black’s ready for you,” the blonde said from my right. I took my cue and placed my hand on the compensational door knob, taking a large gulp of air. “Door open.”

  Huh?

  With a yelp, a stumble and some choice words, I’m catapulted into the room, falling onto my hands and knees with a large thud against the black wood flooring. Heat ignited my cheeks and I held in the urge to cry, knowing I’d totally screwed up the meeting. Oh my god. Kate was going to kill me. Oh no, what if she fired me?

  Stupidly, those thoughts were the only thing running through my mind. Nope, I didn't once try to stand up; instead I froze on the spot, looking like a baby learning how to crawl. Great. Fantastic. I should probably move.

  But suddenly I felt an increase in the need to vomit.

  “Well, we meet again, Ms. Miller.”

  Oh, fuck me running.

  YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.

  The big guy up there hates me. HATES ME.

  What in the hell's going on? Why's he here? Am I being punished for something I did? It was probably the time I stole Quinn’s clothes in college. I stuffed them under my bed while he was in the shared shower room, completely oblivious to the prank Kylie and I had pulled. Of course, Quinn strutted out of the room with his junk hanging out everywhere.

  It was that.

  It had to be that; otherwise I wouldn't be breathing the same air as the man who screwed me before I slapped his smug smile off his face the night before.

  I quickly realized I still hadn't moved, nor had I opened my eyes. I had closed them and scrunched them so tight I was sure I could see spots in my vision. Deciding I’d rather be blind than deal with the situation, I did what I thought was best.

  Crawled out of the room.

  Yeah, probably not the smartest or most sensible decision, but all rational thought had jumped out of the twenty-third floor window the moment I fell into the office. So with my eyes tightly closed, I crawled – YES, CRAWLED – my way to the door.

  The deep snicker that filled the room quickly stopped me in my tracks. Yup, it was definitely him. I could feel that deep amusement go straight between my thighs. I heard the sound of expensive shoes hitting the floor around me – no, coming towards me – and I’m sure I let out the smallest little whimper.

  Deciding I couldn't really embarrass myself any more than I already had, I opened my eyes. My gaze landed directly on those damn dress shoes. This time, my gaze didn't travel up the length of him; I just stared at the deep black color of his shoes, wondering how in the world they stayed so shiny.

  “Ms. Miller?” Oh god. That damn voice. He crouched down in front of me, his face moving into my eye line. “Is there a reason why you’re on your knees again?” He paused, a smirk gracing his lips. “Not that I mind.”

  Embarrassment? Gone.

  Anger? Oh hello!

  Jumping up from my position on the floor, I waited for Mr. TDD to get to his feet. His movements were slow and precise. He was like water: fluid and smooth, yet completely Enigmatic. He stood up straight, towering over me with a damn smirk on his lips.

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  I’m utterly stunned the minute he charged, his hands going straight to my face, cupping my cheeks before crashing his lips to mine. My body shuddered involuntarily, awakening every nerve. His lips didn't move, only pressed against mine with a force that made me quiver. I was frozen to the spot and before I could even think about kissing him back, he pulled away, his hands leaving my face.

  “You talk too much.” He stepped around me and sat at the head of the large boardroom table sitting in the middle of the office, smirk still firmly in place.

  Stunned, I stood there with my back towards him. I didn't understand. What the hell was he doing in Mr. Black’s office?

  Then it hit me.

  Damn it.

  Mr. TDD was Mr. Black.

  I wasn't sure when my mental capacity exploded and jumped out the window along with all rational thought, but I presumed it was around the time his lips pressed against mine.

  “Oh my god,” I mumbled, my hands going to my head. “Oh. My. God.” Turning, I glared at a smug looking Mr. Black, who had crossed his left leg over his right, his hand on his chin. “You.” I pointed, stepping towards him. “You!”

  Oh my god. I slept with a prospective client. I slept with a damn client! Kate’s going to kill me. She'll fire me, string me up and hang me out to dry. My stomach dropped: I
was going to lose my job.

  “Sit down, Payton,” he growled, frustration evident in his voice.

  I rolled my eyes. “No,” I countered, leaning in close. “I’m good right here, thanks.”

  I could feel his minty breath against my skin as he stared me straight in the eyes, the smug look on his face gone, replaced with something I couldn't really determine.

  “Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Payton,” he grounded out.

  Well, that took me by surprise. I wilted back a little. Moving away from him, I decided I'd better listen to what he had to say. I don’t know why, wasn't like he was going to sign with Blue Stone PR now.

  I decided to take a seat at the far end of the table. Childish and ridiculous, but if I moved any closer I wouldn't be able to control my body's response to the memory of the things he did last night.

  Stupid body.

  Getting comfortable, I waited.

  And waited.

  He stared at me for far too long; it was uncomfortable and his domineering gaze was making me squirm. The moment I was about to throw it all away and walk out of his office, he finally spoke.

  “You work for Blue Stone PR.”

  I hesitated, unsure whether to answer him. I nodded.

  “Am I to presume Ms. McKenna sent you in her place?”

  I nodded again.

  “Are you going to speak or do I have to spank you to get your voice to work?”

  I nodded.

  Wait. What?

  “No!” I yelped. “My god, this is so embarrassing.” I groaned, throwing my head in my hands.

  Maybe I should just leave and beg Kate not to fire me. I couldn't lose this job. If Kate fired me, I’d be working for Starbucks for the rest of my life. That’s me, Payton Miller, coffee-making extraordinaire. I could see the billboards now.

  “Payton, you’re mumbling.” He chuckled. Oh shit, was I thinking out loud? Oh my god, I hoped I didn't mention the Starbucks thing. Could I be any more embarrassed? “Make me the offer, Ms. Miller.”

  “Sorry, what?” My head flew up so hard I was positive I’d given myself whiplash.

  “Make me the offer.” He stood, moving around the table as he stalked towards me in a predatory way. Was I his prey? That thought thrilled and frightened me all at once. “Make me the offer you were going to pitch to me.” He stopped for a moment, our gazes locking.

  Those. Damn. Eyes.

  He didn't move for what felt like minutes, his close proximity doing all kinds of things to my body that I had no doubt were illegal in some states. I audibly gasped as I watched him move behind me to stand behind my chair, my senses on high alert as I could no longer see him.

  “Make. The. Offer,” he whispered into my ear.

  Oh my… Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

  I shuddered. I actually shuddered from the deliciousness in his voice penetrating my ears.

  With a gulp of air, I decided if he was going to give me a chance to redeem myself, I’d better nail it. Well, that was a poor choice of words, I thought momentarily before getting back to the matter at hand.

  “Blue Stone PR is a global business, highly regarded as the elite in public relati–”

  “Stop.” He groaned from behind me. “Stop giving me the bullshit you had drummed into you the day you started in the business. SELL. IT.”

  I was mortified. I was angry. I was damn turned on.

  With the mixture of emotions coursing through my body like a freight train, my professionalism disappeared and my sailor mouth emerged. Standing from my seat, I turned and locked eyes with him. I kicked the chair, with a little more force than necessary, to my left, watching as it spun around and around. He wanted me to sell it? No problem, I’d sell it.

  “Mr. Black.” I paused, stepping towards him. “It’s quite simple. You came to us.” He coughed, his eyes a little wider than before. Good, I have his attention. “You need a skilled PR company that can potentially make you more millions than you could possibly need. You can sit in your not so ivory tower,” I paused, waving my hand in the air, signaling the building, “and you can look down on your less than worthy loyal subjects. You know Blue Stone PR is the best in the business, that’s why you contacted us. Now, do you want more millions? Or do you want to sit in the lonely room at the top of your tower, wondering what could have been?”

  I may have lost my damn mind.

  Suddenly, the courage I had found disappeared. Now I was a nervous wreck, wondering what the hell possessed me to saying anything like that to a potential client, whether I'd screwed him or not.

  Mr. Black stood stock still, watching me for a couple of moments before sharply nodding his head. He walked silently back to his seat at the head of his table, his expression blank as his gaze locked with mine.

  “The contract?” he stated, turning me into a flustered mess as I dived into my purse for the sixty-nine page contract. Placing it on the desk, I slid it across the polished surface into the awaiting hands of Mr. Black. His brow peaked. “Would it make you uncomfortable if I signed this?”

  Would it make me uncomfortable? Yes. Hell fucking yes, it would make me uncomfortable.

  “Most definitely.”

  A smirk graced his lips that had me all out flailing inside my own head.

  "Where do I sign?"

  Oh, fuck me sideways.

  “No!” I jumped from my seat, wincing as my voice carried around the large room. “No,” I repeated softly.

  What was I doing? I couldn't sign him as a client! What was I even thinking? If Kate knew I’d slept with him, she would go nuclear ogre. I wanted to keep my job, even if it meant risking showing my boss I couldn't handle a simple meeting.

  With determination, I marched to the very spot Mr. Black sat with an amused expression on his face. I reached out for the contract, ready to stuff it back in my purse and strut right out of the building when his hand moved to the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

  Raising a brow, he pulled out what looked like a pen. It was a sleek and silver, clearly expensive. Holy shit, he pulled out a pen. He wouldn't!

  “Don’t even think about it.” I gritted my teeth, my jaw clicking as he twisted the lid.

  As if in slow motion, I watched as the lid fell from his fingers – the very fingers that less than twelve hours ago were inside me – bouncing against the table before clattering against the floor.

  I cursed myself, realizing he’d already read the contract. Remembering an email Kate forwarded me, I knew he’d seen the entire contract and no doubt already had instructed his high paid lawyers to look over it before the meeting.

  “This is how it’s going to go.” He paused, finding a yellow sticky tab that I’d conveniently placed on the page where his signature should go. I cursed my organization skills as my gaze moved from the contract to his smug face. “I’m going to sign this contract.”

  He smiled, flipping to the page and signing the contract with a flourish. He stood, pushing the contract across the table with so much force it landed in the opposite chair, the one I was sitting in only moments ago. Turning to me, he grabbed my hand.

  The electric current that ran through the nerve endings of my fingertips ran straight to every nook of my body. What in the hell was that?! I tried to pull my hand back from the odd sensation running through my body but he pulled as I did, keeping my hand encased in his. A moment passed as he stared right into my eyes, shaking my hand.

  “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Miller. Shall we make this deal official?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about; in fact, I had no idea what he really just said. His voice was hypnotic, and along with those deep grey eyes, I was consumed.

  “My name's Gabriel Black…” He paused, pulling me towards him so hard I fell against his chest with a loud thud. My breath became lodged somewhere in my throat when I felt his lips against the shell of my ear. “… and I’m going to fuck you now.”

  A soft whimper fell from my lips and my body ignited. I could feel
the heat, my skin warming as the shock of his words washed over me. He was going to fuck me?

  WHAT?!

  My nipples hardened under the lace of my white bra, proving just how much I wanted him. I wanted to slap myself for wanting him, for letting his voice fuel the need, for letting his eyes pull me in. He’s a client. I couldn't do anything but submit the contract to Kate. He signed it, he’s a client of Blue Stone PR. He did this on purpose. If we hadn't had sex at Omega he would've sent my ass packing after being so unprofessional. He was doing this to get to me, he was doing this to satisfy his own sick thrills.

  This was not happening.

  “Not if you were the last person on Earth.” I was seething, pushing against his ridiculously hard chest and moving to the chair. Picking up the contract, I threw it in my purse.

  “You really think you'll be able to work with me with this much sexual tension?”

  My ears pricked. Sexual tension?

  “I’m sorry?” I balked, meeting his gaze.

  He nodded, stalking towards me. “Sexual tension, Payton. I can fucking smell it.”

  My cheeks heated. I can’t believe he just said that! He just signed a business contract. Blue Stone PR was going to represent Black Enterprises and he thinks he can say shit like that?

  “Actually… Gabriel.” I paused, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “You’re not my client.” His brows furrowed for a moment, clearly wondering what the hell I was talking about. “You? Are my first meeting. You’re also my first signature but I won’t be working with you. I’m Kate McKenna’s PA, not an account manager. You'll have Kate as your point of contact.”

  He took a step closer, his autumn scent hitting my nostrils.

  “We'll see about that,” he stated flatly.

  “Really? You’re always so sure of yourself. This thing?“ I waved my hand in the small gap between us. “This isn’t sexual tension.” I smirked. “Clearly all blood has rushed to your dick because you can’t seem to think straight. What happened at Omega won’t be happening again. Ever. You’re now a client who is being represented by the firm I work for. I value my job more than your genitals.”

  Grabbing my purse, I slung it over my shoulder, barging past him as I made my way to the door. I wondered if the fancy door would even open without someone asking it to. I doubted it.