Royal Dick

by Melinda Minx

  “Focus on the company,” I say, throwing the cigarette bud down into the alley. “She’s a big girl.”

  “She’s barely eighteen, Hunt.”

  “Alright,” I say, “I’m backing out of this, I listened, I have no opinion. Now tell me about upper management. Who can I sack?”

  “You’re more like Stalin than King Midas,” Nadine says icily. “Your first step is a big purge?”

  “Not always,” I say. “But for how mismanaged that place is, a purge is essential.”

  “Let me call my driver,” Nadine says. “We need to go there anyway. I’ll show you around, and then you can slam down your iron fist.”

  “Gold fist,” I say, grinning.

  2

  Elise

  I wake up in his bed. I can still feel the afterglow—from what must have been dozens of orgasms. I’m probably the luckiest girl in the world, to lose my virginity like that. To a real fucking man, not to a little boy.

  Hunter.

  He’s gone. He must have had to go to work, but he didn’t wake me.

  Everything is right in the world. I could lay in his bed and in this warmth forever, I could—

  I jolt upright. My chest tightens, and I look over at the clock.

  9:34 a.m.

  “Fuck!” I shout aloud.

  I was supposed to start my internship this morning. At eight o’clock sharp.

  I could be at the office in less than twenty minutes if I left now, but all I have to wear is a blue dress that barely fits me, and a torn pair of panties.

  I have to go back to my mom’s place, and then I can go to her office. Shit, she’s going to be so fucking pissed at me.

  I pull the dress back on and quickly run Hunt’s comb through my hair a few times. I see a note on the nightstand and grab it. I’ll read it in the cab.

  I stuff the note into my purse and start to call an Uber from my phone.

  I wait on the corner in the freezing-cold air—the car should be here in just a few minutes—and I pull out Hunter’s note.

  Elise,

  I didn’t want to wake you. You earned your sleep. There is food in the refrigerator, help yourself. Stay as long as you need, and call me. I put my number into your phone.

  I want to see you again.

  -Hunt

  The reality that I am fucking up my internship on the very first day melts away as I read Hunter’s note. He wants to see me again. It wasn’t all bullshit. I didn’t imagine it—it was all real. Every last inch of him was real, and buried deep inside me.

  I bite my lip thinking about it, and if I weren’t so damn cold—panty-less in winter—I would feel hot between my legs.

  “Elise? You Elise?”

  I look up and a guy in a car is leaning toward me with his window down. I see the Uber sticker on the window.

  “Yeah,” I say, pulling open the door.

  I get in, and he takes me back to my mom’s place.

  The doorman lets me through, and he gives me a bit of a grin. He’s my age, and he can tell by my disheveled hair and last night’s dress exactly what I was up to last night.

  “Don’t mention this to my mom,” I say.

  He nods. “Lips sealed.”

  I go up the elevator, all the way up. Mom did well for herself, not having to raise me and all. There’s no limit to what you can achieve when you abandon your daughter almost entirely.

  I did stay with her for one summer when I was twelve—well, half of one summer—and it made me at least appreciate living with Dad. I think I saw Mom less than twice a week when I lived with her. I was only twelve, but left almost entirely on my own in the city.

  That’s why I was happy to stay with her again this time. Now that I’m eighteen, staying in a swanky pad in Manhattan with a mom I barely have to interact with is pretty damn ideal.

  Though if things go well with Hunter—maybe months down the line, that is—I could stay with him. His place is even nicer than Mom’s.

  I’m not some spoiled little rich girl, either, Dad never made more than a modest income in Philadelphia. We lived in a cramped two-bedroom on the outskirts of the city. It was a building with no elevator, no doorman, and a communal laundry room—coin-operated, no less.

  Coming into my mom’s world is like stepping into some surreal unreality. The one percent—no, the one-tenth of one percent. I’d rather have grown up with two parents who loved each other, but since I never had that, I’ll take the giant Manhattan penthouse as compensation.

  I grab the outfit I picked out from my giant walk-in closet and put it on as fast as I can. It’s a black pencil skirt with black stockings, a white long-sleeve button-up, and a black cardigan.

  I pop my contacts out, put on my glasses, and do my hair up into a bun. I check myself quickly in the mirror and do a double-take. “Shit...I look like Mom.”

  But there’s no time to take a shower or comb my hair. I’m already in deep shit, and every ten minutes I waste is getting me in deeper and deeper.

  Mom has been overly friendly and nice to me. I can tell it’s fake. She feels guilty for fucking up so much with me, and she’s trying to overcompensate. Still, she is sort of trying. I was planning on coming back on time, but I decided at some point while I was in that bar that I wanted to piss her off. To disappoint her. To get back at her.

  I feel a little bit guilty now, though. I was planning on texting her around two or three in the morning saying I was okay. But by then, Hunter was fucking my brains out, and I’d long forgotten her. I didn’t want her to worry this much.

  I grab my phone and text her now.

  “hey mom im really really sorry!! my phone died and i stayed at a friend’s house since we were in brooklyn. im on the way to work now, no excuse for being late :(“

  I call another Uber and head toward the elevator.

  The car is already waiting for me when I reach the street, and I nearly leap inside.

  I’m so late that I missed rush hour, so I make it to the Sencorp building just around 10:15 a.m. Still way too late, but still better than ten-thirty.

  “Thanks,” I shout to the driver as I rush out of the vehicle.

  I nearly trip as I run up the sidewalk toward the revolving door. Even with all the stress of being late, Hunter is worming his way into my mind. Every few moments, some part of him pops right into my mind: his sinful lips, his masculine scent, or even his hard cock sliding into me.

  I can’t help but wonder when I’ll see him again. I need to see him as soon as possible, but first I have to get through this day. I have to get through my mom. She can’t tell me I can’t go out. I’m living with her, but I’m an adult now.

  I get to the front desk, and they have a nametag waiting for me. It reads, “Celia Haze.”

  “Um,” I mumble, “I usually go by Elise.”

  “Celia’s not your name?” the woman standing at the lobby desk asks.

  “It is, but I go by my middle name—”

  “Haze,” the secretary says. “You’re the boss’s kid?”

  I nod.

  “Just tell her and she’ll get you a new one. Use that one for now, you need it to get past the thirtieth floor.”

  “Thanks,” I say, and I nearly sprint to the elevator.

  I scan my card when I get inside it, and push the button that will take me up to the sixtieth floor.

  When the doors open and I step out, I see a large open office space packed with people. Half are buried behind their computers or phones, and the other half are rushing around or standing and talking to each other. There’s some intense whispering going on, and barely anyone gives me a second glance.

  I missed the intern orientation at eight-thirty, so I don’t even know where I’m supposed to be working. I probably need to find my mom, but she hasn’t responded to my text. I can’t just stand around looking clueless, while everyone else works.

  I spot two women chatting to each other, and after a quick glance around, these two look the least busy out of anyone e
lse.

  “Uh, excuse me,” I say, approaching them.

  They look down at my nametag, then give each other anxious looks.

  “I’m an intern,” I say. “I missed the—”

  “You didn’t miss it,” one of the women says. “Your mom postponed it since you didn’t show. Perks of being the CEO’s daughter, I guess.”

  I give a sheepish grin and lower my head. “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s cool,” the other woman says. “No one really expects you to have to do real work anyway. Your stepdad is doing the orientation at ten-thirty. Just don’t be late for that one.”

  They turn their backs to me and start to walk off, but I freeze.

  “Wait!” I shout.

  They turn around and scowl at me.

  “I don’t have a stepdad,” I say. I’m totally confused. Are they just trying to fuck with me? Play a prank on the boss’s spoiled daughter?

  “Uh,” one of them says with a somewhat shocked look on her face. “You seriously didn’t know? Ms. Haze introduced him to us first thing today. We were all pretty shocked, but we figured that at least you would have known…”

  They scoff and shuffle off before I can ask another question.

  My mom got married without telling me? When? Then I start to wonder if I really even care. It doesn’t really affect me. It’s not like I’m going to let whoever it is act as if he’s my fucking step-dad. He’s just some dude my mom is fucking, as far as I’m concerned. My dad is the one who raised me, and my mom is free to marry whomever she wants.

  Though why didn’t she at least mention it to me? A casual, “Hey, I’m engaged by the way,” would have done it. She didn’t even ask if I wanted to go to the wedding.

  It must have happened months ago, I realize, while I was still in Philly—before I told Mom I was going to NYU. I’ve been at her place for over a week and have never seen this guy, so they must not even live together. That’s probably for the best, since Mom was never good at being married. If they live apart, she has the best chance of not totally ruining her marriage.

  Then another question hits me. Why is my mom’s husband doing the intern orientation? He must work here in some capacity—I guess that must be how they met.

  I ask around and find out the orientation is going to take place in the conference room. When I step in there, everyone starts whispering and giving me dirty looks.

  I was worried about my mom being mad at me for being late, but I hadn’t considered that everyone was already going to hate me for being the CEO’s daughter. I almost wonder if Mom postponed the orientation to make everyone hate me even more. I wouldn’t put that past her.

  I sit down next to two girls who didn’t evil-eye me. “Hey,” I say. “I’m Elise.”

  I read their nametags: Haley and Maria.

  They look over at me, then down at my nametag.

  Haley points at my nametag. “It says Celia.”

  “I’m going to get it corrected. You can call me Elise.”

  “Your stepdad is fucking hot,” Maria says, grinning.

  Eww. Gross.

  Should I pretend I know him already? No, probably not.

  “I’m really not close with my mom,” I say. “I, uh, didn’t grow up with her. I barely know her. I haven’t met my step-dad yet.”

  “Yeah,” Haley says. “He’s hot. I’m looking forward to staring at him during the orientation.”

  “What is his job here?” I ask, ignoring their pervy comments. “Is he the head of interns or something?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Maria says. “He’s Co-CEO. They call him King Midas. He comes in to save failing corporations. I guess your mom thought that marrying the guy would give her the best shot at saving the company.”

  Haley laughs.

  “I wouldn’t put that past her,” I say. “My mom puts her work above everything else.”

  “Well, King Midas is smoking hot,” Haley says, “so maybe your Mom just wants his dick—”

  “Ewww,” I say. “I’m not close to my mom, but ewww, ewww, ewww!”

  “Sorry,” Maria says. “Haley is just giving you a hard time.”

  I look around at all the evil stares. “Everyone kind of is.”

  Haley shrugs. “Just be a bitch back to them. You have to stand your ground. They can smell weakness.”

  There are around thirty interns, around twenty girls and ten guys. Sencorp usually only offers three or four interns full-time positions after graduation, so competition can be fierce. I can’t blame the other interns for feeling like nepotism will guarantee me one of those coveted slots.

  “Everyone knows Sencorp’s days are numbered,” Haley says. “If anyone gives you shit, just remind them that it’s better to take this experience and move on than to get a job and get laid off when everything inevitably comes crashing down. It’s an awkward position for you, huh? What if you get offered the job and don’t want it? Your mom will be pissed!”

  “I believe in King Midas,” Maria says. “He’s going to touch this company and turn it into gold, though I wouldn’t mind it if he touched me—”

  Haley punches her arm. “You have to stop with that! What if Ms. Haze heard you saying…”

  They both look at me. They are worried I’ll tattle on them to my Mom.

  I put up both hands and smile. “Don’t worry, your pervy comments are safe with me...not that I really want to even hear them.”

  Maybe if Mom’s husband is really hot, she’ll be so distracted with him that she’ll leave me alone so that I can date Hunter. I doubt she’d approve of me dating a guy more than twice my age, so it’s best if she never even finds out about it. The happier she is with her husband, the less likely she is to be involved in my life.

  3

  Hunter

  Nadine grabs my arm as I pour over all the accounts.

  “Celia is on her way. Can you do the orientation at ten-thirty?”

  “Yeah, sure. You really think it was a good call to postpone just for her? Won’t that give her…?”

  I realize suddenly what Nadine is doing.

  I make a hissing sound. “Damn, Nadine, you’re cold.”

  “I don’t have time to discipline her, Hunt,” she says. “Let the other interns do that. If she can’t handle that, then she’s not cut out for this.”

  “And if she can handle it?” I ask.

  “Then I can hire her without worrying that it’s favoritism.”

  “So no special treatment?” I ask.

  “No,” she says. “None at all. If anything, go harder on her.”

  “She knows that you are marrying me, righ—”

  “Shit,” Nadine says. “I was going to tell her just before I told the office staff, but she was late…”

  I laugh. “So you want me to just drop that on her? Hey, I’m your stepdad, by the way.”

  Nadine shakes her head. “I’m sure she’s found out by now. I don’t really care, it’s her fault for being late.”

  “You’re a terrible mother,” I say, laughing.

  Nadine locks eyes with me. Her face is coldly neutral, but I can tell I hurt her.

  “Hey,” I say, “Sorry, I—”

  “You were joking,” she says. “It’s fine. Let’s get through these accounts.”

  I nod, but make a mental note not to joke about her parenting skills again. It’s an understandably sore spot for her.

  The time flies by. It feels good to be working again, and I realize I’m going to be working some long fucking nights. I’ll have to really work in overdrive to carve out some time for Elise. To fuck her brains out again, with my hands on that tiny little waist, her full lips parted and—

  “Hunt?” Nadine says. “You hear me?”

  I look up. “Yeah, the orientation.”

  “You sure about this idea?”

  “I’m sure,” I say. “You ever make fresh ricotta cheese?”

  “God, no,” she says. “Why would I do that?”

&n
bsp; I shrug. “Once I save your ass, you should really take some time off work to enjoy the finer things, Nadine. When you make ricotta, you pour some vinegar into the milk as you heat it—”

  “Spare me the metaphor, Hunt. Just do it.”

  I start to walk off, but I stop in the doorway. “Oh, Nadine?”

  “Yes?”

  “If Celia doesn’t keep up, are you sure you want me to—”

  “No special treatment for her,” Nadine says, her voice icy and sharp.

  I don’t comment this time.

  I walk out of Nadine’s corner suite and into the main bustle of the office. Everyone stops what they are doing to look up at me.

  I glare at them, and without even saying a word, they all get back to work. A silent wolf is scarier than a barking dog.

  I shove the doors to the conference room open and walk straight to the front of the room—to the head of the table. There are a dozen interns seated at the table and more tucked away in chairs near the door where I entered. I don’t look at any of them yet, I simply stand at the head of the table and look down at the conference table.

  “Why are you here?” I ask without looking up.

  I’m met only with silence.

  “Anyone?”

  “To learn?” a male intern’s voice asks.

  I look up to lock eyes with him, but something else catches my eye. Elise.

  She’s seated in one of the chairs in the back. Her face is ghostly white, and her wide blue eyes are locked onto me. Her mouth is hanging open.

  I can suddenly feel every milliliter of blood pumping through my veins—icy cold—and I can hear it rush from my heart up through my ears where it starts thumping loudly. I summon every last ounce of discipline in me to not show my surprise, and I tear my eyes away from Elise to look at the intern who spoke.

  Even as I pull my eyes off her, she’s burned into my brain. A white button-up shirt and a black skirt. I couldn’t see her legs, but I imagine the stockings hugging the soft and supple skin of her thighs. I imagine myself pulling the stockings off her, peeling them away to get to the warmth at her center.