by RJ Blain
“Thanks for carrying it for me,” I mumbled, wondering how I’d evict him from my room once we arrived.
Stepping into his personal space wouldn’t deter him; at work, he’d never been afraid of me, and he had gone out of his way to remind me of that, leaning close and breathing down my neck to watch me work.
“My pleasure.” As I suspected, he invaded my room, setting the box on the dresser and taking a good look around. “Good. They didn’t shortchange you on the room.”
My brows rose. “Does this hotel have bad rooms?”
“Well, no. This is one of the better ones, though.” He peeked into the bathroom. “Definitely one of the better ones. Most rooms have a standard bath and oversized shower.”
“I didn’t invite you in, you know.” I crossed my arms beneath my breasts, eager for him to leave so I could escape the confines of my bra and indulge in a long soak.
“I know. I invited myself, which is terribly rude of me.” Taking off his mask, he tossed it onto the dresser next to my box. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into working with me? I could use you.”
The last thing I needed was to add more years of drooling over my boss like some love-sick teenager who’d just discovered men were attractive. I’d already done a three-year stint, and if he kept doing things that made me want to respect him, I’d do something I regretted, like enjoy his company. “I’m sure.”
“While disappointing, I suppose your choice makes things a little easier. I have a few questions for you.”
Dylan had questions for me? I frowned but asked, “What?”
“Are you leaving New York?”
Why was everyone asking me that lately? Of course, everyone was two people, as I hadn’t made much effort to speak to anyone other than recruiters after quitting. “I don’t know. It depends if I can find a job or not. I’m considering Canada.”
I’d already decided I was against the idea of claiming refugee status, but I’d do what I needed to survive, and Canada had the best options for someone in my position.
I’d never been in love, so I didn’t have anything to lose in a loveless, arranged marriage. I’d be able to develop a real career, too, one based on my abilities rather than my genetics.
I still hated the idea, though.
“Canada? You’d be signing yourself up for ten years of slavery, Mackenzie.”
I waited for him to use my last name, and when he didn’t, my eyes widened. “It’s not a bad deal for me.”
“It’s satin chains instead of steel ones, but you’d still lose your freedom for a decade.”
“There aren’t a lot of options open to me. Someone probably blacklisted me after I quit. It happens. It’ll be lifted in six months.” I shrugged. That was one law New York had in place to protect nulls; while employees could be added to the blacklist, the records were wiped after six months, and the lists were limited to certain sectors.
Only someone of the higher castes could add someone to the blacklist, so I put my bets on Abigail as the culprit. She had motive, and she had the rank.
When I cracked and needed work, I’d be able to find some form of manual labor work like my mother and father.
“It wasn’t me,” Dylan hissed through clenched teeth.
I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was. It was likely Abigail. I lost her her cushy little job being your desk ornament.”
“I’ll try to get it reversed for you.”
“Why on Earth would you? It’s not worth it, Dylan. You’d get dragged through the mud with me, and that’s not fair to you. It’s just six months. Frankly, I’m astonished it hasn’t happened sooner.”
“It’s not fair to me? You’re the one who’s being targeted for no good reason. I was your boss. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not your fault, Dylan. No matter what you do, there’ll always be someone like Abigail in the world. You can’t fix stupidity. She probably had me blacklisted. So what? In six months, my name’ll be purged from the blacklist, and that’s that—and some companies ignore the blacklists, so I might be able to find work in my field.”
“I realize that, but I don’t have to like it.”
If more people treated me like Dylan did, I’d be happy with my life. “You had other questions?”
He sighed. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Just driving home.”
“Would it inconvenience you too much if you drove home the day after tomorrow?”
I scowled. “Yes, it would. I can’t afford an extra night at a hotel like this.”
“You wouldn’t be expected to pay for the room.”
Narrowing my eyes, I looked him over head to toe. His suit did wonderful things for him, even better than the ones he wore to work, likely meant to entice women of his rank. “What are you up to, Dylan Mason?”
“There’s no way I can answer that question without coming across as a creep, so I’ll be blunt, Mackenzie Little.” Dylan took his phone out of his pocket, swiped the screen, and showed it to me. “I own you for the next twenty-four hours, and I intend to enjoy every single moment of it.”
According to the display, Dylan had bid a grand total of forty-eight million dollars, and a cheery green banner across the bottom of the screen marked his invoice as paid in full. He’d chosen a multi-kingdom charity for null rights as the benefactor. My legs trembled beneath me, and I sat on the bed before I fell down.
My ex-boss had purchased me, and he’d spent so much he would—literally—change the world. In time, his one donation might even change my world for the better.
“But why?” I blurted.
His lopsided grin did terribly wonderful things to me. “Your legs in those jeans are worth the price of admission. The higher I look, the better you get, and when I do the math, I’m getting quite the bargain being able to spend twenty-four hours doing whatever I want with you. You’re intelligent, you’re beautiful, you’re stubborn, and you’re strong despite everyone trying to beat you down since the day you were born. I knew you were something special the first time I laid my eyes on you. You didn’t flinch away from me. You had me figured out with a single look, and you’ve spent the past three years driving me crazy. Be forewarned, Mackenzie Little. You’ll be lucky if I let you get any sleep until we’re both satisfied. So, with that said, I have some questions.”
“You have got to be fucking with me!”
“That is the idea. I’ve been waiting a long time for this chance. One of my dreams came true the moment you walked into the ballroom. I knew, without doubt, I’d win you. Not only was I one of the active bidders and the leader for the vast majority of the night, I was also one of the snipers. I would’ve paid a great deal more than forty-eight million for you.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’m a null!”
“Hasn’t it occurred to you that’s exactly why I want you? You’re genuine. You’re not defined by your magic. Everything you’ve brought to the table has always been because of what you accomplished. Every choice you’ve made, everything you’ve done, you did it with your own hands and hard effort. You’re real. For someone like me, real isn’t often an option. For one day, let me live through you.”
I’d heard it so many times before, how the grass was always greener on the other side of the fence, but I’d never believed in it, not really. Why would anyone, especially from the platinum elite caste, ever want to roll in the dirt with a nobody like me? It made sense for me to want to see Dylan’s world. Every null woman I’d ever met wanted to be Cinderella for a night, except for me.
I just wanted a job I liked, a husband who loved me, and a tiny spark of magic of my own, so my children might never know what it was like to be the lowest of the low without hope of having something more than a null and void existence.
What he wanted, what he’d paid so much to get, cost me nothing. I couldn’t deny him, not that I wanted to. I’d never get another chance to be with someone like him in my life.
“My life is boring,” I confe
ssed. “I go to work, I go home, and I read books in bed.”
“I have no problems with spending the entire day in bed with you, but we won’t be reading.”
I wondered how much I could get away with as his property. “I have a condition, Dylan Mason.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to take me to the most expensive restaurant you can, and we’re both going to wear dirty, scuffed jeans.” If he meant to live a dream through me, I’d turn the tables and do the same with him. While I liked him in a suit, I wanted to see him without the armor of his caste.
“I’m willing to leave your bed long enough to take you out for a nice dinner, and I think I can find a pair of scruffy jeans that fit. It’ll be a challenge, but for you, I’ll make it happen.”
“I’m not convinced that bitch in the ballroom didn’t crack my head into the floor. This could be one very elaborate hallucination.”
“Had she, they’d be cleaning her blood from between the tiles for years to come.”
Why did Dylan have to be so childish sometimes? “Hold your horses there, tiger. There’s no need to get violent. Concussions aren’t worth killing stupid people over.”
“It is when you’re the one with the concussion. But no, you’re not hallucinating. I suppose I better ask my next questions before you change your mind and run away. Are you on birth control, and do you like it rough?”
Who cared if I had a concussion? Dylan wanted to know if I wanted it rough, and nothing sounded better to me than a rowdy tumble on satin sheets for the sake of charity—with him.
He was right. Dreams could come true, and I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint him with my inexperience. I’d do my best to make sure he didn’t notice the cobwebs, too. “I’m pretty sure I answered those questions in the questionnaire, Dylan Mason.”
“You did, but I’d like to hear it from you.”
“I am, and I’m flexible.”
I’d let him interpret just what I meant by that.
“I’m not, but I acquired birth control for both of us, and that’s the best bit of news I’ve heard all day. Shall we find out just how flexible you are, Mackenzie Little?”
Even I knew how the game between men and women was played, and for the first time in a long time, I was as eager a participant as my unexpected partner. Later, I’d have to thank my mother for wasting her money on me, and I meant to enjoy my day as Cinderella without regret. “Let’s,” I replied, licking my lips, considering how best to unwrap my handsome present.
“You seem far more enthusiastic about this than I thought you’d be,” he murmured, loosening his tie.
“I have high expectations, Dylan. Don’t disappoint me.”
Chapter Five
Dylan lived up to his word, and I worried he’d, in one day, ruined me for other men. It wasn’t just the sex, although I’d be reliving our time together in my dreams for a long time to come. It went beyond the physical.
He did the little things, the things my other lovers hadn’t bothered to do. After he’d exhausted me, sometime close to dawn, he’d tucked me in before stretching out beside me, and he’d kissed my cheek as though he actually cared.
As promised, he took me to dinner. He wore the scruffiest jeans I’d ever seen in my life, far worse than mine, and I wondered where he’d gotten them. He shed so much dust I beat him with a towel in the bathroom until he stopped leaving trails behind him, laughing over the idea we’d go somewhere elegant while he was dressed like a cowboy and I was embracing my inner city slicker.
I barely remembered dinner, as Dylan insisted on distracting me with absurd jokes and detailing his plans for his future.
He meant to change the world, and if I were to believe him, he meant it literally.
I’d taken him by surprise when I informed him, rather curtly, he already had.
On paper, looking through the contract, twenty-four hours had seemed like a long time, but in reality, it slipped through my fingers, oil-slick and gone in the blink of an eye. He went one way, I went the other, and I learned an important lesson about myself that day.
Love was a fickle mistress, and it wasn’t until he was gone that I realized the truth.
Sometime between admiring him at the office, realizing he was a good man trapped within his caste, and our one day together, I’d fallen for a man I could never keep and had no hope of seeing again. Our worlds had collided, and there’d been fireworks, and not just in bed.
One day, he would make a lucky woman exceptionally happy, and I’d be jealous of her until the day I died, as I couldn’t believe I’d have a chance with another man like him. He was a once in a lifetime fling, and I was all right with that.
I didn’t find his last gift to me until I returned the rental, discovering he’d paid for the whole thing, including the late fee. I refused to cry although I’d wanted to.
He gave me a little more time, which meant the world to me.
I returned to the grind, sending resume after resume in the hope I could beat the odds and bust through Abigail’s blacklisting, determined not to squander the chance Dylan had given me. He wouldn’t miss the three hundred dollars.
I would’ve, and he knew it. His recognition of my situation, his stealthy arrangements so I wouldn’t suffer due to my mother’s scheming, dealt the final blow to my faltering heart.
Cursing the circumstances of my birth, I did my best to forget him, allowing my worries to take root while I waited for the ax to fall.
Three days after my return to Annapolis, a company in Dallas, Texas sent a job offer. I’d never heard of the firm, and a quick check on the internet revealed it was a lobbyist group for special causes, and they wanted me for one reason alone: I was a null with a degree.
Included with the job offer was a condominium within walking distance of my new workplace, a three-bedroom monstrosity with a top floor view of the city. If I stayed for five years, Texas citizenship would be mine along with a competitive salary.
I reread the email countless times, and when I finally worked up the courage to respond some eight hours later, I had one question: what was the catch?
The recruiter, Douglass Smithson, replied within five minutes.
He’d heard of the incident in New York City, and he needed a null capable of browbeating Texan politicians without fear. My job was to consult with government officials and ensure all policies relating to nulls passed ethics checks in the public and private sectors. It would be my responsibility to identify unfair, discriminatory laws and push for them to be changed.
My show of temper had captured Smithson’s attention, and he made no effort to hide the truth from me. The instant word had reached him, he’d gone straight to Dylan Mason about me, planning to hire me out from under his nose, unaware I’d already quit.
Steeling my nerves, I replied with my phone number.
My phone rang, and my hands shook when I picked it up from its cradle and answered, “Hello?”
“Good evening, Miss Little. Douglass Smithson. Thank you for replying to my inquiry. Mr. Mason had nothing but good things to say about you. He made me aware of the circumstances surrounding your departure from your last job, and I want to reassure you that you won’t have such problems at my firm. You’ll be working directly beneath me, and I fully intend on easing you into a management position. I’m expecting you’ll eventually be responsible for a five-person team, and you’ll be involved throughout the entire hiring process. My company has been offered a very lucrative contract to reform Texan legislature. After you’ve identified the laws most damaging to human rights in the kingdom, it’ll be your responsibility to present your findings to the congress and convince them the laws need to be changed.”
“I know nothing about public speaking, sir.”
“Ah, but you know everything about addressing those who look down on you because of who and what you are. Your performance in New York proves that. I need a champion, not a mouse, and you’re no mouse, Miss Little. A mouse doesn’t kn
ee her assailant. A mouse doesn’t stand up for the wronged, no matter his or her class. You won’t have an easy job. Texans get stuck on their traditions, and they’re proud. Every battle you win will be won by taking their pride, snapping it over your knee like a dry stick, and then waiting out their wrath before beating sense into them. You’ll have to convince every single man and woman in the congress that you’re their equal. Then you’ll have to do the same for the king and queen.”
“The king and queen?” I squeaked.
“They sometimes attend sessions. Dallas is their seat of power, so while they spend time in other cities, they’re often around. I expect they’ll wait until you procure your citizenship before testing you personally.”
“I haven’t even been hired yet, and I think I need a raise.”
Mr. Smithson laughed. “Right you are. Here’s the deal, Miss Little. I’d like you here as soon as possible. Can you be on the move within two weeks? My firm is prepared to cover all expenses, including the packing and transport of your property. I’ve already gotten approval for your visa, which will be finalized upon your arrival. I have official approval for your citizenship application should you remain with my company for the full five years.”
“That’s insane. Why offer me citizenship?”
“It’s simple, Miss Little. Everyone needs something to work for. Citizenship in Texas will resolve many of your problems. Texan citizens enjoy more flexibility traveling throughout the Royal States of America. Your Texan passport will get you across any border on the mainland, and should you want to travel abroad, you’re almost guaranteed approval. New Yorkers don’t enjoy this luxury due to royal policies designed to keep citizens from leaving the kingdom. You will depart New York on a private flight in the care of the Texan Royal Protection Service, which should prevent any local interference with your departure. I’m aware you were blacklisted by a disgruntled co-worker, which would present difficulties getting you out of New York through public channels.”
I wondered if my attempt to go to Canada would’ve been blocked by New York, and a chill ran through me. If a Texan lobbying firm needed to go to such lengths to help me leave, I wouldn’t have had the resources to make it to Canada.