The Interview - Complete Series

by Lucia Jordan

  Copyright © 2015 by Lucia Jordan

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Table of Contents

  The Interview Book 1

  The Interview Book 2

  The Interview Book 3

  The Interview Book 4

  The Interview Book 1

  “Hi, there.” A curvy brunette sat across the cafeteria table from Lacey Easton. “I’m Sarah Tate. Welcome to Wolfe International — you’re the new records secretary, right?”

  “I’m a temp. They hired me to fill in while Linda’s on maternity leave.”

  “All the receptionists love you because you’re so nice but the executive secretaries hate you because you’re gorgeous.” Sarah grinned. “The girls in Accounting and I are dying to find out where you get your hair dyed and styled.”

  “Uh, nowhere.” Lacey touched the side of her wavy red hair, which she wore in a French twist. “This is my natural color. I style it myself.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said and sighed. “Now I hate you. Unless you give me your cake. Then, all will be forgiven.”

  As they laughed together, Lacey’s attention strayed to upper level atrium over the cafeteria. A tall, fair-haired man in a beautifully tailored black suit stood talking with a petite, sharp-featured blonde wearing a lemon-colored designer dress. She didn’t know the woman, but recognized the man as Christopher Wolfe, the company’s CEO — her impossible dream man.

  From the day Lacey began working at Wolfe International she had noticed the CEO’s portrait hanging in the lobby. At first, she blamed the sexy combination of sun-streaked blond mane, chiseled features and sensual mouth for making Christopher Wolfe seem so handsome. Every time she passed his portrait she also felt as if his slightly tilted, dark brown eyes were following her every move.

  If only, Lacey thought, discreetly admiring his broad shoulders. He doesn’t know I even exist.

  “You look depressed,” Sarah said. “You’re not having trouble with the job, are you?”

  “Oh, no,” Lacey said. “I am having a problem with calls for other departments coming in on her phone line. I guess Maintenance is working on it.” She nodded at the atrium. “Who is that woman up there with Mr. Wolfe?”

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder and then smirked. “There’s one of your haters, Nora Bonner. She’s Mr. Wolfe’s perpetual ass-kisser. Excuse me, I mean personal assistant.” She lowered her voice. “Beau Bonner, the king of used cars? That’s his daughter. I don’t think she took the job for the money. Rumor has it she wants wedding bells — with little wolves on them.”

  “Really.” Lacey ignored the little twist that caused in her heart. “Are they involved?”

  “Nope. Nora should have done her research better. The boss never dates employees. Actually, no one knows who he dates. But he’s definitely playing the field.” Sarah waggled her eyebrows. “More like three fields, if you believe the gossip. Have you met him yet?”

  Lacey shook her head. “I don’t think he visits the archives very often.”

  “You never know; he might just show up at your desk one day. For a billionaire CEO Mr. Wolfe is pretty hands-on. He just won’t put his hands on any of the help.” Sarah gave her a wry look. “Which reminds me, the guys in Accounting would like to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

  “I’m taking a break from dating right now.” Lacey refrained from mentioning that it was due to her ridiculous crush on Christopher Wolfe. “How about you?”

  *

  Nora Bonner tucked her tablet under her arm. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Wolfe?”

  Lacey Easton, wearing nothing but a strand of pearls and silk-lined handcuffs. Out loud Christopher said, “Ask the comptroller to send me a prelim for the third quarter international earnings. Thank you, Nora.”

  Once his assistant left, Christopher lingered in the atrium to watch the subject of his thoughts chatting with one of the accounting secretaries. Unlike her companion, Lacey wore very little makeup or jewelry. She dressed conservatively in a plain navy skirt and white blouse.

  While her outfit might be unimaginative, Lacey Easton was an unusually striking woman whose fiery hair and alabaster skin had captured Christopher’s attention from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Today, a few wisps of hair had escaped her updo to frame her delicate features. The way her face lit up when she laughed at something the other woman said kept him utterly riveted.

  Do her eyes sparkle like that when she comes? Envisioning Lacey naked and trembling with pleasure under him made Christopher’s cock stiffen — again. Since the temp had begun working at the company, all he had to do was glance at her and he got a hard-on that lasted for hours. No woman had kept him so perpetually erect since he’d been seduced in his teens by an oversexed housemaid.

  Lacey probably had no idea how appealing she was. The way she always kept her hair up at work was likely for convenience but it only made Christopher wonder how long it was and how it would feel trailing across his belly. She rarely wore more than a light tint on her full lips, yet their natural redness brought images of them opening to engulf his cock. She dressed conservatively, probably to play down her curves, but whenever Christopher’s gaze drifted below her collarbones he drove himself crazy wondering if her nipples were pink, brown, or red.

  Red like her lips, he thought. Rosy red and hard and aching to be sucked.

  As the two women below him stood to leave, Lacey looked up and met his gaze for an instant. Christopher saw her smile falter before she carried her tray to the return bin.

  Yes, run away, my little Red. He liked the way she walked, the way her gait displayed subtle hints of the delicious figure beneath her sober clothing. You should be afraid of this Wolfe.

  Christopher went to the elevator and took it to his penthouse office. John Parker, his security chief, was waiting to deliver an update.

  “I ran the background on Easton. She’s clean.” Parker handed over a copy of his report. “She’s worked for her agency for seven years, solid references, no complaints. No unusual financial activity.”

  Most of Christopher’s employees didn’t know he had all new hires, even the temporary help, thoroughly investigated. This time, he had opted to have Lacey Easton checked for more personal reasons. He skimmed through the list of facts Parker had compiled, then studied a copy of Lacey’s agency headshot before he removed it. “What about her personal life?”

  “Born and raised in Colorado Springs, only child, parents retired to Florida a few years back. No criminal record, never been married, no boyfriend or dependents. Lives alone in a small apartment,” his security chief said. “Her landlady says she’s a nice girl who dates now and then but never has any overnight visitors. I’d say she’s your basic girl-next-door.”

  With the exception of Parker, no one at Wolfe International knew about Christopher’s secret personal life. Belonging to an exclusive society of wealthy, powerful people with alternative lifestyles allowed Christopher to keep his exotic sexual tastes private. They gathered only in their own homes. No one was admitted unless they showed a playing card specified by the host. Parker provided the necessary security to shield his activities not only from his employees and business associates but also the media and the
general public. Christopher regularly indulged in bondage and control role-play with his submissive partners. Any amount of exposure would cause serious, long-term damage to his reputation as well as his business.

  If Lacey Easton had been a more adventurous woman, he might have pursued her — after she finished her temp assignment, of course. After watching his father marry and divorce five of his own secretaries, all of whom took revenge in some form related to his business, Christopher had made a lifelong vow never to get involved with an employee.

  Among Christopher’s inner circle, submissives were often referred to by phrases like “melting honey” and “extra spicy” to describe the tenor of their sexuality. While she was lovely, Lacey Easton’s personal life made it obvious that she was far too vanilla to cope with the demands of a dominant like him.

  The intercom flashed. When he tapped it, his assistant said over the speaker, “You have a call on your private line, Mr. Wolfe.”

  “Ask them to hold for a moment, Nora.” He muted the speaker and handed the report back to Parker. “I won’t need anything more on Easton. Thank you, John.”

  “No problem, sir.” John tucked the file under his arm and departed.

  Christopher switched his screen over to the waiting call, which displayed the caller’s ID. “David, good afternoon. What can I do for you?”

  “You could confirm that you’ll be attending tonight’s Black and White party,” his friend said. “If you cancel again Nadia might come and kidnap you, which would make me extremely jealous.”

  Christopher hadn’t attended the last several gatherings of his inner circle due to boredom. He had sampled most of the submissives among their group. While they knew how to perform, none of them kept his interest for long. He was still half-erect from watching Lacey. It would do him good to work off some frustrations. His eyes strayed to the photo still sitting on his desk. “Do you have any unattached redheads planning to be there?”

  “I’ll make sure we do,” David told him. “Tonight’s pass card is the Queen of Hearts.”

  Christopher picked up Lacey’s photo, dropped it in his drawer and slid it shut. “I’ll be sure to bring her along.”

  *

  After lunch, Lacey returned to the archive’s front office. While she sorted through the latest batch of record request e-mails her mind kept rerunning that smile Christopher Wolfe had given her before she’d hurried out of the cafeteria.

  “He’s the CEO,” she muttered to herself as she began printing a list of files to be scanned. “He can smile at me any way he likes.”

  The printer next to her desk jammed. She tucked her pen between her teeth as she opened the top to clear it. Her phone rang. She reached for the receiver and tucked it between her cheek and shoulder.

  Before she could answer the call, Lacey heard a deep male voice say, “My source says the latest Black and White party will be at David and Nadia Zellwood’s house in North Boulder tonight. Will Wolfe be there?”

  Lacey froze.

  “Yes,” a woman replied. “I just heard him confirm. He’s looking for a redhead. Have your camera ready. If he fucks her, I want you to film it.”

  “I’ll need to get inside first.”

  “They use playing cards as passes. Tonight it’s the Queen of Hearts. Just show one to the security guard at the gate and he’ll let you in. Wear all black so they think you’re a dominant.”

  The man chuckled. “What do the submissives wear?”

  “White, you simpleton,” the woman snapped. “That’s why they’re called Black and White parties.”

  “Oh, okay. Listen, you sure about this? I mean, taking some dirty photos of the guy is one thing, but going public with a sex tape from a BDSM party? That’ll take down the company and ruin Christopher Wolfe’s life.”

  “If he does what I say, no one will ever see it,” the woman purred. “Just don’t screw this up.”

  The line went dead. Lacey hung up the phone and sat down. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she tried to think of what to do. Obviously, she had to warn Christopher Wolfe that he was being targeted for blackmail. But how? She picked up the phone, intending to call his office, but replaced the receiver. Even if she could get through to the CEO, the trouble with the line might affect outgoing calls. She couldn’t risk someone else listening in on the conversation.

  Lacey glanced at the pile of records she had pulled to deliver to various departments that afternoon, and quickly grabbed them and headed to the nearest elevator to the penthouse level.

  Nora Bonner was seated behind the reception desk working on a laptop.

  The older woman didn’t even look up. “Yes?”

  Lacey glanced around but didn’t see any sign of Christopher. “I’m delivering a file for Mr. Wolfe.”

  “He’s gone for the day.” She pointed to an empty inbox on the corner of her desk. “Leave it here.”

  Lacey dropped one of the files in the box and turned to leave.

  “Come back here.” When she returned, Nora tossed the file across the desk at her. “Mr. Wolfe didn’t request this, you simpleton. Mr. Wilkes in Accounting did.”

  Nora Bonner had been the woman on the phone, Lacey realized. She had the same voice, and used the same odd insult. She was the one planning to blackmail Christopher. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yes, you are. Take that to Mr. Wilkes on the ninth floor, corner office. Then you can clock out. Don’t bother reporting for work tomorrow. I’m terminating your assignment. Get out of my office.”

  Lacey picked up the file and hurried into the elevator, which she took to the ninth floor. As she walked into the Accounting department, the feeling of dread grew. She didn’t care that Nora Bonner had fired her. She had a solid reputation with her agency. They’d find her another position immediately. What scared her was what Nora planned to do to Christopher Wolfe. He was probably already on his way to the party.

  I have to get to him and warn him, somehow.

  Lacey replayed the ominous conversation in her head. Dominants wore black, and submissives wore white. All one needed to get into the party was a Queen of Hearts playing card. And Nora had said something else about the new submissive Christopher was seeking … he wants a redhead … .

  “Lacey.” Sarah popped her head out of an open office door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Ah, delivering a file.” She looked in at Sarah’s terminal, and got another idea. “Can I borrow your computer for a minute? I need to find a mailing address.”

  “I’ll do it for you,” Sarah offered, and sat down behind the keyboard. “What are you looking for?”

  “David and Nadia Zellwood, in North Boulder.” She bit her lower lip as Sarah wrote down the address. “Thank you. Oh.” She held out the file Nora had thrown back at her. “Could you please deliver this file to Mr. Wilkes?”

  Sarah frowned. “Sure, but what’s your hurry? Why do you look like you’ve kicked in the teeth?”

  “I have been, sort of. Today’s my last day.”

  “What?” Sarah got up and closed the door. “Why? What happened?”

  Lacey wanted to tell her everything, but that would expose Christopher’s secret life. “I took the wrong file up to Miss Bonner, and she terminated me.”

  “What?” Sarah’s expression grew indignant. “She can’t fire you for that.”

  “It’s okay.” She glanced at her watch. “Listen, I really have to go. Maybe we could get together for coffee sometime.”

  “Absolutely.” Sarah scribbled a number on the back of a business card and handed it to you. “Call me, and Lacey — don’t let that witch get away with this. Even if you have to talk to Mr. Wolfe yourself.”

  She forced a smile. “I might just do that.”

  *

  One she clocked out, Lacey went directly to her apartment to prepare for her mission. She had a deck of playing cards she occasionally used to play solitaire. She took out the Queen of Hearts and tucked it in her purse before she went to her closet.
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br />   She usually wore dark colors to emphasize her fair skin. The only white dress she owned was a sleeveless linen sheath trimmed with eyelet lace, which she sometimes wore during the summer months.

  Once she slipped it on she added a narrow white leather belt with a crystal buckle and a stack of faux pearl bracelets around her left wrist. It was hardly evening wear but it would have to do.

  When she took down her hair to brush it the long, loose waves spilled over her shoulder like curling ruby ribbons. Leaving it down definitely made her look more attractive, she thought. She was more concerned with looking pretty for Christopher Wolfe than getting his attention. Since he’d only seen her with it up, she did usual French twist and secured it with two pearl-beaded combs.

  Thanks to her snow-white skin, she couldn’t wear much makeup without looking like a mime, so Lacey merely darkened her lashes and applied a cherry-colored lip tint to her mouth. Her mother had given her a bottle of designer perfume for Christmas but she decided against it and instead applied her favorite vanilla-scented moisturizer to her arms and throat.

  As she picked up her keys to head out, Lacey stopped in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom to study her reflection. Instead of making her look washed-out, the white dress gave her pale skin a very faint pink glow — which in turn made the redness of her lips and hair seem more vibrant.

  “If nothing else, he should spot me,” she muttered as she hurried to her car.

  On the way to David Zellwood’s home Lacey, thought through exactly what she should tell the CEO. She had no proof of Nora’s involvement in the blackmail scheme other than the sound of her voice and one word. No witnesses to back up what she’d heard, either. Thanks to the line glitch she probably couldn’t even prove the call she overhead had been routed to her phone. Once Christopher discovered Nora had fired her, he might think Lacey was trying to settle a score instead of protect him.

  “I can do this,” she murmured as she turned and stopped in front of a security gate at the front of David Zellwood’s property. “I just need to get him out of here.”

  She showed the playing card to the guard, who nodded and opened the gate. Up the drive, another guard waved a flashlight toward a large group of expensive cars parked under some trees.