Page 11 of Daddy's Temptation
I finish my coffee then drop some bills on the table. Time for work even though it’s Sunday. No rest for the weary.
9
Candace
Candace
It’s only been three days since Andre claimed me as his babygirl, and I miss him already. I feel like an addict needing her next fix. My every thought is of my new daddy—just thinking the word has my core trembling. Unfortunately, that distraction is what opened me up to my boss' groping hands this morning.
I’m always so careful to keep my distance, but yesterday my mind kept wandering to how it felt to be mastered completely. Not just the way he spanked and punished me but the sex too. I’ve never given myself to a man like that before. It has me all twisted up inside.
My daydream is shattered by the beeping of the intercom. “Sweetheart, grab me a coffee.” Mr. Sloan’s condescending tone grates on me.Fucking jackass.
“Right away, Mr. Sloan,” I reply through gritted teeth.
I’m not proud of what I do next, but it certainly makes me feel vindicated in a small way. I add the exact amount of sugar and creamer to his coffee, then spit in it. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. This is my one tiny rebellion against my boss that won’t put my future with Sloan International in jeopardy unless he finds out.
I need Mr. Sloan; I remind myself for the zillionth time.
The job as his assistant is a stepping stone to get where I really want. I didn’t slave away to get my degree in business and corporate real estate to become a glorified secretary to a lecherous bastard.
My entire life has been done by the book. I’ve been the perfect daughter. I never got less than a 4.0-grade point average in school. I graduated from both high school and college with honors. I got a respectable job straight out of college at a company that will look great on a resume. Everything I’ve done is utterly perfect.
On paper.
The reality is, I hated every minute of college. The classes were soul-sucking. I did what I thought would make my parents proud instead of chasing my own dreams. I certainly didn’t want a business degree. Pursuing dreams is a frivolous notion. My parents drummed that thought into me from a young age.
Instead, I did what I always do: strive for acceptance and respect from my parents. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Lame, right? It totally contradicts any and all advice I would give a friend. Do as I say, not as I do.
I’m such a hypocrite.
I was the first person to encourage my friend Sugar when it came to staying strong against her mother when she kept pressuring her to give up her career so she could marry ‘the right man.’ Now look at her. She chased her dreams and has the job she’s always wanted. Not to mention she’s engaged to a man that couldn’t be more perfect for her.
And here I am, twenty-five years old and still aching for mommy and daddy’s approval. Which I realize is stupid. Deep down, I’m still just that little girl whose parents pawned off on nannies and boarding school. The little girl whose parents never went to a single parent-teacher conference, a debate match, a choir concert, or a swim meet. Hell, they didn’t even come to my high school graduation. I didn’t walk with the other graduates in college because there was no point.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to please them. To make them finally acknowledge that they have a daughter, and I’m miserable because of it. Of course, no one sees that part of me. I smile and laugh and show the world how put together I am while on the inside I’m a mess.
I paste another happy smile on my face as I deliver Mr. Sloan’s coffee. He takes a long drink of his special brew; my smile ticks up a fraction more. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Sloan?”
He threads his fingers together on his desktop. “How many times have I told you to call me Roger?”
“I prefer to keep things professional,” I say with a cheerfully fake as hell smile.
He grunts in displeasure. “Such formality really isn’t necessary, Candace. We should be…” he licks his lips as his eyes rove over my modestly dressed body. “…friends. Especially since we work so closely together.”
How is it that one look from him makes me feel dirty? I’ve completely changed my wardrobe from office appropriate sexy to overly modest. Knee-length skirts and shirts that leave everything to the imagination. Basically, the exact opposite of my usual choice of clothing. Just one more thing that makes me hate my current situation. The way he admires my body makes me uncomfortable, but then he gives all his female employees the same treatment.
He stands and comes around his desk, leaning against it, so he’s just a short foot away from me. “You’ve been my assistant for what, six months now?”
“Eight,” I correct.
He looks thoughtfully at me. “Eight months. Hmm… Most of my assistants move on to other departments after the six-month mark. I had such high hopes for you.”
“Has my work been unsatisfactory?” I ask, feeling my hackles rise. I know my work has been excellent. I do most of the things he should be doing as the CEO of Sloan International.
“My concern isn’t your work; it’s your unwillingness to play the game, sweetheart. A pretty little thing like you could get eaten up in this business.”
Bile rises in my throat. I know exactly what he’s talking about when he says, ‘play the game.’ I also know the reason his other assistants only last for six months is that he gets tired of them and moves them along to different positions, or they quit altogether. I won’t be playing any of his games.