“Yes. A lot of coffee. She usually comes in with a Starbucks venti coffee, and sends me out for another in the afternoon.” Samantha pulled out a coffee cup from the trashcan sitting next to her desk.
“Is that Caroleena’s?”
She nodded, tossing the cup back into the trash.
Maxim could see her struggling with something, as if debating whether or not to divulge anything further. He shook his head, visualizing her internal arguments. “That’s a lot of coffee. Please tell me it’s a plain coffee and not one of those fancy lattes?”
“Oh, it’s never a plain coffee. It’s always a venti cinnamon dolce latte — and most days she gets a sweet dessert with it too.”
Tsk. Tsk.
“I won’t cut out coffee completely, but we’re going to reduce this. It’s not healthy to drink that much coffee. Not good for the heart.”
“Can you warn me before you do? It’s going to be dreadful here if that happens. God, don’t do it this week. We have a huge project coming due on Friday, and she’ll be stressed enough without adding that.” Her eyes were large and the concern evident in the tightness of her thinned lips.
“I can’t promise that, zaychik. What is her lunch most days?”
He was afraid of the answer Samantha would give him. Caroline had admitted to him that her lunches were either unhealthy or nonexistent.
“Caroline doesn’t eat lunch, but if she decides to eat anything she has me grab her a hot dog from the stand out front — or the pretzel stand down the road. She likes extra cheese. Sometimes she gets a wrap downstairs in the cafeteria, but most days she just works through lunch and has a latte instead.” Samantha winced. “Am I answering these the right way? You seem… quiet.”
Observant.
She was well worth whatever Caroline paid her. “Yes. I’m fine. I just need to get her to eat better. None of this is good for her. I can give her a healthy dinner and an exercise routine, but unless the rest of her day changes, she run into issues.”
Samantha nodded in agreement.
“So, another question. How do you watch Caro do this to her body and not say anything?” He pulled a chair up to her desk and sat down, curious to hear the answer.
“Oh, I tried. Years ago, when I first started here.” She waved her hand through the air as if swatting at an annoying fly. “She’d get so angry that I stopped trying. It’s easier to just give her what she wants than to encourage her to change her lifestyle.”
He narrowed his eyes. Miss Caroleena apparently had been catered to for far too long. That would be changing soon. “So, like a two year old throwing a temper tantrum, or a growly bear, it’s just easier to give her what she wants than tell her no?”
“Yeah. Nobody tells Caroline ‘no.’ It’s just easier to give her what she wants.” She tried averting her eyes, but he held her gaze, staring intently at her.
He ground his back teeth so hard he heard his jaw pop. “So, that answers my one question about how Caroline acts at work. How does she treat people in general? If someone is sick or has a sick child or parent, how does she react?”
“Are you sure this is okay?” She looked away, picking at her nails, her fingers trembling slightly. “I don’t want her to find out I talked to you. I mean I like you and all that… but I really need this job.”
“Poor little zaychik.” He reached over, lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes once more. He smiled at her. “I promise you’re safe. Speak.”
“Well, she’s… forceful. She knows what she wants, and she doesn’t like anyone questioning her. She just wants it done. Done correctly and fast — the first time. But if you have a situation with your family, she’s very sympathetic. I’ve never seen her tell someone they can’t go home. However, she’ll make sure they know the deadline doesn’t get backed up. So, they work evenings or overtime to get the job done.” She smiled weakly at him, visibly concerned at his reaction. “But she’s never given anyone a hard time with that.”
“There’s a good heart in there somewhere. I guess we just need to get her to relax and cut back on her hours so that the rest of you can still work as hard as she does — but not feel like you live here.” He winked at her, standing and putting the chair back in its place. “I promise your secret is safe with me. I heard nothing from you, and I’ll leave now so she doesn’t see me here.”
“Thank you, Maxim. I hope the answers I gave make your job easier so Caroline doesn’t get upset with you too.”
So sweet.
“Sweetheart, trust me when I say that Caroleena will never treat me like that. I don’t allow it. Ever. She’ll speak to me respectfully, or she won’t speak at all. I don’t tolerate screaming and yelling directed at me.” He patted the counter in front of Samantha as he put his coat back on. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to be a little more assertive too.”
“That’d be awesome. I need a little help with that — most days.”
“You’re a great woman, Samantha. You have no need to change. You just need coaching on how to demand the same respect you show others.”
He waved as he stepped into the elevator. He’d need to come up with a way to make Caro see how her behavior affected those around her. He believed that she was a good girl. But he would help her with some goals, not just for her weight and health, but for her overall character too.
Chapter Six
Caroline sat in the back of her vehicle, watching the bustle of Manhattan, thinking about her latest encounter with that smarmy prick, Derek.
“Caroline. Nice to see you.” He’d lewdly let his gaze glide up and down her body.
She had to admit he’d looked handsome in his tailored suit, but as always, as soon as he’d opened his mouth to speak, it no longer mattered how impeccable his appearance was.
“Derek. How’re you?” She’d put on her best fake cheerleader smile. How did the saying go? Never let them see you sweat.
His eyes had been focused on her hips, and he’d even made a show of leaning around to see her ass. “Funny. I thought I’d see an improvement — a little less junk in the trunk, if you know what I mean. Maybe you’re not following the rules very well.”
Rolling her eyes, she’d bit the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out at him. “Whatever are you rambling about, Derek?”
“Your new fitness chef. What’s his name again?” He made a show of trying to remember, tapping his chin as if he’d been trying to recall the name, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes! Maxim Volkov. How’s he working out? Obviously, he’s no miracle worker.”
How in the name of hell had he of all people found out about Maxim? One of her damn staff must have leaked it. Or he just had his own staff scope her out. Either way, it upset her that he knew the comings and goings of her personal life.
“He’s amazing. Best decision I’ve ever made. Thank you for asking, Derek.” It was her turn to make a dig. She’d made a show of looking him up and down as well. “It appears that some of the after work dinners and cocktails may be finding a home — in your gut. Would you like Maxim to recommend a fitness chef for you too? Locating one in the city shouldn’t be difficult.”
Derek’s eyebrows furrowed and he’d straightened his posture, she’d assumed to hide the very gut she referred to. His had started to show recently, perhaps because he was pushing toward forty. “No, thank you. I’ll hire my own staff. I don’t need recommendations from Caroline Turner. Again, we’ll have to see if he’s worth the pay you’re giving him. By the looks of it, I’m beginning to think it’s been a waste of your resources.”
He’d looked at his watch then. “I need to run. Catch you again sometime soon, I’m sure. Take care and good luck on losing some of that ass.” He smirked at her before pivoting and leaving the building, hailing a cab just outside the lobby door.
“Caroline?”
Jason startled her back to the present. The vehicle stopped outside of her building. “Sorry, Jason. I guess I was daydreaming. I’ll see you this evening, same
time.” She climbed out, closing the door harshly.
Walking into her reception area, she felt herself boiling over, wondering how Derek had found out about Maxim.
“Sammi, did you talk to Derek Miller about Maxim?” You just couldn’t trust administrative assistants, and even though she’d employed Sammi for almost five years, who knew who she talked to outside of work.
Sammi’s eyes widened. “No, Caroline. Why would I talk to Derek Miller — ever? I don’t talk to him unless he’s here, or I’m forced to.”
She appeared to be telling the truth, but she’d reserve judgment. “He just asked me how Maxim Volkov was doing, and he even knew how much I was paying him as a fitness chef.”
Sammi frowned. “How would he obtain that information? We’ve only known for a week. Did you tell the board of directors? Maybe one of them said something?”
“Of course, I told them. I wanted to make sure they knew and it was understood that his pay would be completely out of my funds, and not drawn from Turner Marketing. Why would they think of telling him? That doesn’t make sense, Sammi.”
Silly girl.
Caroline walked back to her office to finish the last of her work before going home.
Sitting down at her desk, she saw her note to herself about calling Avery. She picked up her cell phone, pressing the green button and putting her on speakerphone. She slipped her heels off while the phone rang, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.
The woman’s delicate voice answered the phone in her warm southern accent. “Avery Harrison.”
“Hi, Avery. It’s Caroline.”
“Oh, my god. How the hell are you? It’s been forever since we’ve talked.” Avery was as bubbly as ever. She’d always been the life of the party, and ready for whatever trouble came her way — if she didn’t invent the trouble herself first.
“I know,” Caroline said. “That’s why I’m calling. I wanna see you. Do you think you can get away for a weekend here in New York? I can have a plane sent for you whenever you’re able to come up.”
She heard Avery whispering, and then she said, “Hold on, Caroline. Preston’s right here. Let me ask him.”
It felt odd to hear her deferring to a man, even though he was Avery’s husband. Caroline hadn’t met him yet. That looked to change later in the year though, as they had talked about getting together for a Christmas ski trip to Colorado. Avery had said that in addition to her and her husband Preston, her new sister-in-law, Inga, and Preston’s brother, Garrett, would probably be coming along too. Despite how great such a trip might be, Caroline wasn’t sure she wanted to go with two married couples; being the fifth wheel was never fun. She’d had enough with being lonely. Why go to Colorado and sit in a romantic cabin at Christmas if she had nobody to share the experience with? Just the thought of it made her stomach roil.
“Caroline? Preston has agreed. But… he has a caveat. He says he’ll allow it only if you agree to meet us in Colorado for the ski trip for Christmas. He said he won’t agree otherwise. Please say you’ll go on vacation.”
She couldn’t say no to Avery. Her excitement had always been contagious, and this time was no different. Caroline always did love skiing. Maybe she’d meet someone while she was there?
“Okay. Tell Preston I’ll go, but make sure you let him know that I don’t usually cave to manipulation. Warn him that I won’t back down the next time he tries it.” Caroline smirked, loving sparring with the friendly couple. “I’ll wait while you tell him.”
Avery’s muffled voice came through the speaker, but Caroline couldn’t make out the words. Then she was back on, laughing. “Preston said if you don’t give him a reason to corner you, there shouldn’t be any problem in the future. He said he takes pride in manipulating situations and making people bend to his will. I can’t wait for you two to meet. We’ll have such a blast! Mark it on your phone: December 22 to January 2. We’ll get to have two holidays together just like old times!”
“Yes. We’ll have a wonderful vacation, I’m sure.” She typed the dates into her calendar on her phone. But it wouldn’t be like old times. She’d be alone, and everyone else would have their husband. She probably needed to start getting used to this. Apparently, she’d be alone for a while. There wasn’t anyone waiting in the wings for her.
“Okay, it’s in my phone. Now, when can I send a plane for you?”
“Get to the airport at nine-thirty on Saturday, and I’ll have the pilot look for you at the security check area. He’ll have a sign that says Turner Marketing.” She texted her pilot while talking, giving him the details for Saturday.
“Oh my God, I’m so excited to go shopping! Preston said I need to stay within my budget, but maybe you can give me a gift of extra money for being a good girl?” Avery’s voice dripped with honey.
In the background, she heard Preston’s voice. “We’ll see if you’ve been a good girl by the end of the week, Kitten.”
Avery’s giggle into the phone made Caroline laugh. She missed that laugh.
“I’m always a good kitty and you know it,” Avery said, her voice slightly muffled as if pulling the phone away to talk to her husband. Then she was back. “Okay, Caroline. I can’t wait! I’ll see you Saturday. We’ll go shoe shopping! Love you! Bye!”
“Love you too, Avery. We’ll definitely be going shoe shopping! Bye.”
Caroline laughed, thinking of the good time they’d have this weekend. There was never a dull moment with Avery around.
Maybe she’d actually have fun on the December skiing trip after all.
Chapter Seven
Jason came through the door of his house, tossing his keys into a basket on a table. Stalking through the kitchen to the attached living room, he found his wife watching a movie, her legs wrapped in a blanket, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.
“Stand up.”
Her eyes widened, her throat visibly working to swallow, putting her coffee cup down, tossing the blanket aside and standing in front of the burgundy, leather couch.
“Did you pay the bills last week?” He stood closer to her, his hands on his hips.
“Y-yes.”
“Excuse me?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her.
“I’m sorry. Yes, Sir.”
“Imagine my surprise when the bank called me today to say that they covered a check, but we needed to transfer money because we were overdrawn.”
“Wait... what? This doesn’t make sense, I balance the account all the time. I’m not overdrawn.” She started to leave the room, he assumed to retrieve the checkbook from her purse.
He snatched her arm, putting her back in her original spot. “I didn’t give you permission to leave the room, girl.”
“B-but Ja—”
“What do you call me in a punishment, Karen? And, yes, this has become a punishment.”
“Sir.”
“That’s right. And you don’t need to get your checkbook. I already know what made the account become overdrawn. Do you want to know?” He stroked the back of his knuckles down her cheek.
Her voice shook as she spoke. “Yes, Sir.”
“It seems my wife bought a dress at Cherie’s — a hundred and fifty dollar dress, making our mortgage payment almost bounce. If it hadn’t been for our savings account and good standing at the bank, we would’ve caused a mark in our credit rating. Does that dress ring a bell for you, my dear?”
“Oh, no,” She put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and brightening with tears.
“Push your yoga pants and panties to your ankles.”
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband pushing both of them down to her ankles in one swoop. Her bare pussy, the peach skin he knew was baby soft, but he wouldn’t touch her. Not now. This was a punishment.
“So explain to me how you purchased this dress, knowing it would bounce our mortgage check. I’m anxious to hear this.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her hands were playing with the hem of her shirt and she couldn’t keep consistent e
ye contact with him.
“I... well, I thought the check had been cashed and when I saw what I thought was extra money, I purchased a dress for the wedding we have coming up for your friend Craig. I really thought it’d been cashed.”
“You were careless. If you’d taken the time to plan the purchase, assuring what the balance in the account was, this wouldn’t have happened. You were anxious to meet your needs, not thinking of the household. It won’t happen again.” He pulled the tail of his belt through the buckle, sliding the leather through the loops, the leather slapping against the fabric.
He pointed to the couch with the doubled belt in his hand. “Turn around, hands on the seat.”
They’d been married for fifteen years, she knew when to be quiet and submit to a punishment. He ran his hand over the soft, pale skin of her bottom. Milky white and unmarred—but not for long. He tapped his wide belt across her, watching the goose flesh rise on her gorgeous ass. She’d given birth to two kids, her hips widening with each one, and he swore he loved every change more.
“I’m going to blister your ass with this belt until I feel you’ve learned your lesson. You know the rules during a punishment. If you break any of them, we’ll continue with the paddle upstairs. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” She shuffled her feet a bit in anticipation.
He swung his arm out, snapping the hard leather on her ass. She started to stand, catching herself, putting her hands back.
“Good girl.” He swung the strap, overlapping each stripe, her ass wobbling with each lash. Her ass, already pink, quickly turned into a deeper shade of pink with each strike. Rising up on her toes, she stomped the heels of her feet on the floor, desperately trying to ease the pain.
“Oh, Sir! I’m so sorry!”
“I’m sure you are — now! Do you think you will remember to check the account before you make a purchase?” The underside of her bottom were the next target, he placed five licks of the belt there. She screeched, stiffening and leaning so far forward, she was almost lying down. He pulled on her hip roughly, yanking her into the bent over position again.
My Russian Master (Service & Submission Book 3) Page 6