His Plaything (Slade, Inc. Book 2)

by Mackenzie Williams

  Marcie didn't speak as she retreated from his office. He very slowly returned the receiver to its cradle. The numbness cloaked him like a dark blanket as he stood there, staring at nothing for a very long time. What other evidence did he need? Morgan had gone back to Todd. She didn't want to work with him, much less be his girl. It's done.

  Connor wondered briefly why this had happened so suddenly. Morgan had seemed happy, hadn't she? Maybe a man such as myself is incapable of making a woman truly happy. Maybe she always held a torch for him and I was just a distraction.

  For the first time he could remember, an extreme sense of loss filled his heart. Maybe he should still go see her, confront her, beg her. No. Connor wasn't going to force anyone to be with him that didn't want to. Still, maybe he should fight for the one he wanted. His pride was too big for that.

  A slow rage started to build deep inside him. A rage for Morgan and a rage for himself. Connor reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He clicked on a saved number. The call was immediately answered.

  "Shay, meet me at Adam's Bar at eight." He didn't wait for an answer and hung up. "If Morgan is moving on, so am I."

  ****

  Morgan stood in her townhome, tears streaming down her face, looking at Mr. Slade's suits, which she had laid on her couch. What the hell was she going to do with them now? There was no way she was going to return to that building, ever.

  She remembered that she had left a few personal items in her office, but they weren't important enough to go through hell to get them back. She could replace them all, but she couldn't replace her dignity or her wellbeing.

  Morgan collapsed into a heap on the floor, sobbing so hard that her chest started to hurt. She couldn't stop herself, though. Even if it were true that Mr. Slade hadn't purposely hired Shay back, which Morgan still didn't know if she believed or not, the outcome was horrific. Mr. Slade obviously still had feelings for his former temp. This just showed Morgan that she had been trapped in a forced fairytale.

  A leopard can't change its spots. Mr. Slade couldn't be a one-woman man.

  Muffy rubbed against Morgan's leg, but she ignored it. She lay there, crying for what seemed like days. Maybe I should call Marcie to meet me somewhere to pick up his suits. Maybe I should take them outside and burn them.

  Morgan felt hopeless, ugly, used, stupid, melancholy, but most of all, lost. She had allowed herself to believe that this might be love between her and Connor.

  What do I do now?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Connor stood next to his car and adjusted his tight-fitting, black t-shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled loudly. What am I doing? Do I really want to be here? He had gone back and forth the entire drive to the bar. A large part of him, the part that controlled his heart, wanted to go to Morgan's house and refuse to leave without answers. The other part of him that controlled his cock, wanted to fuck the first thing that would let him. It wasn't just about the sex, it was about the release. Physically and emotionally.

  He started toward the entrance, cracking his knuckles as he walked. This night was going to be hell and heaven wrapped into one. Connor still hadn't really decided how far tonight would go. A sense of guilt was already trying to strangle him.

  Just as he started to open the front door to the bar, he noticed Marcie's car parked not far away. She must have given Shay a ride. He snorted out loud. Shay's confident that her night will last long enough for a ride home by me, huh?

  Connor had a strong urge to walk back to his car, but he didn't. He only had to think about Morgan's legs wrapped around another man to make his feet start inside the bar. The bar was dimly lit and smelled a bit like stale beer and misery. Just what he was looking for. Connor wanted his surroundings to match his heart.

  He looked around and didn't see the women he was searching for, so he made a pit stop at the bar. He was going to need a drink.

  "What can I get you?" A young man behind the bar wiped his hands off on a small towel.

  Connor actually had no idea what he was in the mood for so he just repeated what he’d overheard a man a few barstools down say. "Whiskey sour."

  "You bet." The bartender went to work, and Connor scanned the room again.

  After a few minutes, he spotted them. There was a large booth not too far from the bathrooms at the back of the bar. The booth had high backs around it so he could just barely see part of Marcie's face and legs. She was laughing at someone talking across the booth from her, presumably Shay.

  "Here you go, sir. That'll be seven-fifty."

  Connor reached into his wallet, threw down a ten, and grabbed his drink. He took a large sip before walking over toward the booth. As he neared, he heard Shay laugh loudly, but he still couldn't see her. Marcie hadn't yet seen him. A strange voyeuristic feeling came over him, and for some reason, he wanted to spy on the two for a minute. Maybe he just wanted to know if they were talking about him.

  There was a large wooden pillar just off to the left side of the booth. Connor took another drink as he came to a stop behind the beam. Marcie again laughed, and it made his skin crawl. He couldn't put his finger on why, however.

  "I know! How stupid can one person be?" Marcie giggled.

  "I can't believe how lucky we were! I thought it would take us weeks to get rid of her. I seriously can't believe that she just dropped the 'ex-fiancé' present right in your lap!" Shay howled.

  "Well, when you're good, you're good. Oh, and get this!" Marcie slapped the table. "The skank called me to pick up Connor's suits. Seriously."

  Connor squeezed his glass so hard he wouldn't have been surprised if it shattered in his hand right then. Not that he gave a fuck at the moment. He had already heard enough. He could no longer stand their witch cackles.

  He slowly stepped out from behind the pillar and came to a halt in front of their table. Both women looked up at him. Shay's eyes lit up, instantly. She fussed with her hair, trying to smooth it out as she smiled.

  "Hey, Connor. You're late." She giggled flirtatiously.

  He didn't look at her. His stare was trained on Marcie. "Marcie, would you please tell me which skank has my suits."

  Connor almost reveled in her expression. Her smile was gone in a flash. Marcie's eyes widened, and her mouth popped open. An odd huffing sound came from her before she spoke. "Umm, what?"

  He set his glass down on the table. "Skank. I heard you say one had my suits and I was just wondering how that's possible, because I never sent anyone to get any of my clothes. I mean, I'm assuming you are referring to my dry cleaning."

  She didn't speak for a while. Marcie looked from him to Shay. Her eyes were begging her friend for help. Shay only took a sip of the fruity drink in front of her.

  Yep, such a classy gal.

  Marcie turned back to look at Connor. Her face was pale white. "Well … um, just before Morgan left, she offered to pick them up, but … umm, with everything that happened … she still has them."

  Connor's lips curled into a crooked smirk as he picked up his glass and took a large drink. As he set it back down, both women squirmed in their seats. "Shay wasn't the only temp available. Was she, Marcie?"

  She stared up at him for several seconds before very slowly shaking her head “no”.

  "You two wanted to get rid of Morgan. Am I right, Marcie?"

  This time she did nothing.

  "Tell me the truth or you're fired." His tone was harsh, and his voice was getting louder.

  Marcie's arms shook as she pushed herself up, standing from the booth. She stood very close to Connor, and he looked down at her like she was a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. She reached up, touching his elbow. Connor didn't flinch or move.

  "Mr. Slade, she's not your type, and, quite frankly, I think your work was suffering some. I'm just looking out for you." She squeezed his arm. "Like I always have."

  "So you think it's best if Shay is around?"

  "Well, Shay understands that she is just there to serve a purpose
. She's not trying to become your wife or some shit like that."

  The word “wife” seemed to hang in the air. Connor held back a shiver. The thing he couldn't hold back much longer was his growing anger. He reached down and removed Marcie's hand from his arm. It was true. Shay was just a fuck-toy. Morgan was different, and even Marcie could see that.

  "That private message from Morgan's ex-fiancé was fake. You set it up. And what about that file? You made sure it was easily found."

  This time, Marcie had a proud glint in her eyes. "Yes. The file box was moved because of the remodel. Easy. The errand, well … I told her to get your suits, and well, it just worked out."

  The mix-up with my meeting schedule. Marcie messed that up on purpose.

  Shay then stood from the booth. She immediately wrapped an arm around Connor's waist, rubbing her face on his arm before speaking. "Yes, and Morgan came back to see what she needed to. You kissing me in the parking lot. You don't need a girlfriend, Mr. Slade. You need an office plaything. I can be that for as long as you want. No strings."

  A mental movie of Morgan watching him and Shay in the parking lot played in his head. No wonder she fucking quit. What hell has she been going through?

  Connor knew that if he didn't end this conversation very soon, he would do something he regretted. He didn't know himself or trust himself right now.

  "Marcie, when are you supposed to get my suits?" He clenched his jaw.

  "Oh, that's funny. I told her to meet me next door at the club in about ten minutes. I thought if she saw you guys leaving together, it would really solidify the situation."

  "Solidify, huh?" Connor ran his hand through his hair before grabbing Shay's arm. He pulled it off himself and held it out to the side. He swiftly grabbed Marcie by the arm and held it in a similar fashion on the other side of himself. "Fuck both of you."

  "What?" Marcie twisted in his hold.

  Shay didn't resist.

  "Screw you for thinking you know what's best for me and screw you for messing with Morgan. You're both fired. Don't return to my building, ever. I will send any personal items by mail."

  Both women now pulled on their arms. Connor didn't release them right away. He wanted them to feel his strength.

  "Mr. Slade, you don't mean that. If you just give it a day or two, you'll see we're right." Marcie whimpered as he squeezed both of their wrists a bit harder.

  "Both of you are lucky that firing you is all I'm going to do. Don't let me ever see your faces again."

  Shay was starting to get turned on by his harshness. Connor could tell by the way she was trying to press her body into his. She moaned quietly as her free arm came up to his waist.

  Connor turned his head toward her. "Never fucking again."

  He flicked both of their arms away from himself before abruptly turning away from them and the booth. Marcie stepped forward and tried to grab his arm. He swiftly pulled it away from her, still walking.

  "Sir, you can't just fire me. Please."

  He spun around, almost causing her to fall backwards. "I can, and I did. I don't need this kind of shit in my company." His eyes flicked up to Shay, who looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Shay, find yourself another temporary boss. I'm taken."

  With that, Connor exited the bar, heading to the one place he was needed the most.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Morgan felt like an idiot as she sat alone in the club. Mr. Slade's suits were in her car, which just made her feel more like an idiot. She didn't really understand why Marcie had picked this place to meet up for the exchange. Why wouldn't they just meet at a coffee shop or something during the day? She slowly shook her head.

  I guess it doesn't really matter. I just want this over with so I never have to deal with anything that has to do with Slade, Incorporated again.

  Morgan took a sip from her beer bottle. Her eyes were burning from her near nonstop crying. She probably would be crying now except she didn't have any tears left. How did I lose him so quickly? I guess I truly am too boring for most men.

  Morgan twirled the bottle around in her fingers on the bar and exhaled loudly. Now, she guessed, she needed to just focus on getting a new job.

  "What's a pretty girl like yourself doing sitting alone?"

  Morgan looked up to see a very handsome man standing next to the bar. He had a light brown beard, which matched his hair and eyes. His smile seemed genuine. He wore a tight white t-shirt under an unbuttoned blue and white flannel shirt.

  "Drowning her problems."

  His smile widened. "My type of girl." He took a swig of his beer before setting it down and holding out his hand. "I'm Brad."

  Morgan hesitated for a few seconds before thinking that none of it mattered anyway. "Morgan." She shook his hand and noticed right away how warm it felt.

  That intense feeling of loss almost had her shaking off her stool. She missed Mr. Slade and his touches so badly. Morgan tried to keep her smile plastered on her face for Brad's sake. He let go of her hand and tilted his head. Shit, he can probably see that I've been crying. How puffy are my eyes?

  "Do you want to dance?" His eyes were a beautiful hazel color in the bar light.

  She held her breath for a few seconds. She felt guilty already, but why should she? Mr. Slade had been lip-locked with Shay just hours ago and who knew where the hell that led them. Fucking in his office, I'm sure.

  Morgan fought the urge to close her eyes and sigh. "Sure." She slid off her stool. I guess it's better than sitting here alone.

  ****

  Those jackasses! Connor stomped toward the club next door. It wasn't a place he would ever go, and he doubted if it was a place for Morgan, either. How and why did this all happen? This is a fucking shit-storm.

  Connor was still having trouble believing that Marcie was in on all this. Shay? Sure, but Marcie had been with Slade, Inc. for several years with zero problems. Well, I've never had a steady girlfriend in all those years, though. Was he flattered that she was trying to look out for him even if her actions were horrible? No, he was glad she was gone, along with Shay.

  Finally, Connor entered the building. A young man stopped him and asked him for his ID. Connor barely looked at him as he blew past him. The man called after him, but Connor paid no attention. God save the next person that tried to stop him from getting to his girl.

  He had to weave his way between several small groups of people talking and drinking. Connor almost knocked over a short female waitress that was trying to get back to the bar.

  "Excuse me," he said as she gave him a dirty look.

  Connor stopped on the edge of the dance floor and scanned the room. They were playing a disgustingly sappy love song. It was slow and annoying, but that was soon the least of his worries. His body jerked when he saw her. There was Morgan, in the arms of some asshole, slow dancing.

  Connor's jaw was starting to feel sore as he tensed it again. A tremor ran down his legs, not from fear or chill but from pure, raw possessiveness. The other man ran his hand down her back, dangerously close to her ass. Connor took a deep breath, hoping that the other man wouldn't soon end up on the floor on his ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "You know, Morgan, you have beautiful eyes." Brad brought his hand up and touched her cheek.

  She felt her face heat. "Thank you." He was moving too fast for her.

  "I'd really like to get your number. This can't be the last time I get to see you."

  "It is the last time. Trust me," Mr. Slade's voice boomed just over Morgan's shoulder.

  Her whole body went stiff in Brad's arms. He flicked his stare up behind her. His expression quickly turned to angry annoyance.

  "Get lost."

  Morgan was swiftly grabbed by the waist from behind. Before she could say anything, she was being ripped from Brad's hold. Her back was soon pressed up against Mr. Slade's chest. His familiar cologne seemed to seep into her skin.

  "I'm sorry, friend. There appears to be some misunderstandin
g. This is my girl. She was just lost for a moment."

  "What the fuck?" Brad stepped forward and grabbed Morgan's hand.

  She knew she better stop this quickly or there would be bloodshed, and she was pretty sure who would get the worst of it. Not Mr. Slade.

  "Brad, please. It's ok. I need to talk with Connor for a minute."

  Brad looked from her up to Mr. Slade. She held her breath hoping he would just walk away.

  "Fine, but I'll be right over there at the bar, watching." He gave Mr. Slade a death stare.

  "Watch all you want. It wouldn't mean anything." Mr. Slade's tone was so dark it was almost scary.

  Brad stood there for a moment, and Morgan knew that he wanted nothing else than to take a swing at her boss. Right now, she might not have minded. After a few tense seconds, the other man turned and walked back to the bar. He pulled out a stool and did just what he said he would. He watched them closely.

  Mr. Slade then twirled Morgan around so her back was toward Brad. She didn't know if that was so he could keep his eyes on the man or if Mr. Slade didn't want her staring at Brad. It didn't really matter. She was pissed at him. He cheats on me and then shows up here, demanding my time.

  "What do you want, Connor?" His first name still felt foreign on her tongue.

  "There was some confusion and deception. Things aren't what you think. We need to discuss your quitting." He moved a hand up to hold her hand.

  My quitting? Is this about my fucking job?

  She tried to pull her hand away, but he held it tightly. She huffed out an irritated breath. "Sorry. I meant it when I said I was quitting. I never want to see the inside of your building again."

  His expression darkened even further. Morgan almost stopped breathing completely as she watched the way his eyes intensified on her. They darted around her face as if he was about to lose all control.

  "I'll explain everything, but not here. I'll explain everything at my house." His jaw clenched.