Taming Jessica

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by Ruby Harper




  Taming Jessica: Learning Discipline from Her Boss

  (Office Surrender)

  Ruby Harper

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogue are either drawn from the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted is a model.

  Text copyright © 2015 Ruby Harper

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be scanned, printed or distributed in any format without permission.

  To sign up for Ruby’s reader newsletter, please click here.

  Connect with Ruby on twitter @wordsfromruby

  rubyharper.com

  Taming Jessica

  Jessica walked a little uneasily in heels an inch or so higher than she'd normally wear. She was uncomfortable, and she was irritated already.

  It wasn't normal to have a strict dress code just for an interview. Sure, she'd worn uniform for work, but she'd never had someone tell her how to dress even before a first appointment. If she hadn't needed the job so much, she'd have told them where to stick it. But things being as they were, that wasn't an option. Being fired from her last job had seemed like a great opportunity to enjoy her freedom, but the joy of that had worn off as soon as she'd realized that the bills still needed paying and jobs weren't as easy to come by as they'd been the last time she'd looked.

  The thing about being a PA was the personal thing. That thing about whoever it was that was being assisted. Sure, she could organize and chase and catch up with her workload as well as checking on her manager's. But when that manager behaved like an ass over eighty percent of the time, it made the job more difficult than it needed to be. That had kind of been where it had got to with Luke, and Jessica wasn't the type to just roll over and take whatever was thrown at her. She was a girl with fight - that was what Luke had wanted most from her at the start - but when the fight started to turn against him, he'd called time on the whole thing and let her go.

  Jessica had known of the Stricklands for years. She'd been in school with Edward Strickland since 6th grade, and everyone had always been envious of the fact that he really didn't need to put the effort in. His old man owned the paper mill on the edge of town, and it was a known fact that he would be taking it over some day. Edward had been arrogant about that. Teachers were clear that he'd only do the minimum to get by, and if something didn't chime with his understanding of what was needed in the paper mill business, he didn't care to get involved with it. Things always seemed to come easy, and his life was mapped out with that being sure to continue.

  Jessica had always been bothered by that. She'd had to work hard for everything she had. Her own father had upped and left before she could remember, and she'd been raised to know that putting in the effort was the only way that she'd ever see results. There was no wealthy parent to pick her up from difficult times, and everything she'd achieved had been on her own merit. She was proud of that, sure, but sometimes she thought it might have been better to have the silver spoon life of kids like Edward Strickland.

  When old Mr Strickland was taken off to hospital with a heart attack one Wednesday afternoon at work, he'd vowed that he'd be right back to running things just as soon as the doctors released him. There'd been an outpouring of support for him right across town. It was the kind of place where everyone knew someone who worked there. Mr Strickland sponsored the kids football team, and the local newspaper always had some story or other about him doing some good somewhere. He was that kind of a guy. Finding a much younger wife had been his downfall, some said, but he'd kept up with her - and kept her - for going on 30 years. There was every chance that a lot of the local talk was just women with a bee in their bonnet that he chose a girl from out of town instead of marrying one of them.

  Edward Strickland hadn't been so fortunate. At almost 28, he was still single and never seemed able to hold down a girlfriend for long - whether they came from out of town or not. Being, on paper, the town's most eligible bachelor just added to his arrogance, and that seemed to turn girls off. That and the fact that he was known for having some pretty unconventional tastes.

  "Jess!" he beamed as the door to his office opened. "I'll give you a couple of minutes to fix your hair and make-up and then we'll talk."

  Jessica blushed. Part of her wanted to snarl at him. She'd already fixed her hair and make-up, and she definitely wasn't in the mood for arrogance from someone she'd not seen for about seven years. But there was no doubting her position. His name etched on a gold plate on the door. Hers on the top of a resume that had bent over at the corner, annoying her because she'd wanted to show that she knew what perfection was.

  "Sure," she told him, and wandered off to the bathroom.

  When she stood in front of the mirror, she was pretty satisfied with what she saw. There were a couple of hairs out of place, but that was all. Still, she re-applied her lipstick and ran a comb through her hair to fix it.

  The office door was closed when she returned, and she wasn't sure whether to just walk in or to knock. Knowing him as she did - or used to - she knocked. Appealing to his sense of self-importance, she smiled a little when she heard him roar "Come!" towards the door.

  The door banged shut behind her, alarming her a little and putting her off her stride.

  Edward was taller than she'd remembered. Of course he would be. A fully grown man now, she could still see the boy that he used to be in there. Smirking at her for not having the privileges he enjoyed himself.

  "It's good to see you, Jess," he told her, as if they'd ever been friends. "I was so pleased to see your application. Coffee?"

  "That would be great, thanks."

  "Excellent. The kitchen's back outside. Third door after the ladies' bathroom. I take mine black."

  This is what it would be like every day. Jessica knew that, and she knew she'd need to find some way of holding her temper and remembering that this was what she was signing up to. If, of course, Edward deigned to offer her the job.

  "You here for the position in Mr Strickland's office?"

  The cute blonde startled Jessica a little. She wasn't expecting to see anyone else.

  "I am, yes."

  The girl pulled a face.

  "It's OK." Jessica told her. "We go way back. I kind of know how to handle him."

  The girl explained that Edward had been interviewing for weeks. He'd let Miss Taylor within days of taking over, and no-one could quite understand what it was that he was actually looking for. Or what was making it so difficult to find.

  Jessica found herself feeling instinctively loyal towards Edward.

  "I'm sure Mr Strickland has his reasons. Maybe I can go through those with him over coffee."

  If there was one thing that Jessica understood about being a PA, it was that loyalty was everything. When she mentioned Miss Taylor just a few minutes later, it turned out to be exactly as she'd expected. Miss Taylor had been his father's PA. She'd been with him longer than he'd been married to Edward's mother. Hell, she'd known Edward from before he was born. There was no way that she'd be loyal to him in the way she'd been to his father, and she still saw him as the child who used to come into the office just to swing around on his Daddy's chair.

  "I had to let her go, Jess. I fought with my Dad and I know everyone here thinks it was just awful, but I had to. She's looked after. She has a great pension.

  "Besides, I need something different."

  His tone changed. Softened.

  "Jessica, I'm very pleased that you obeyed my instructions about what you were to wear for me today. Obedience is k
ey in this role, and I'd want you to understand your place from the start." Jessica nodded, waiting for him to continue. It was as if he expected her to be surprised. To be resistant.

  "My previous boss was very demanding. I'm sure I can meet your requirements. And I do feel we kind of know each other. I mean, it's been a long time, but people don't change that much do they?"

  He continued. Almost as if wanting her to back out. "The thing is, I'm here to turn this place around. I have some difficult things planned for the people who work here, and it won't be all plain sailing. I need to have the right person by my side."

  "Sure you do. Of course. And I'm kind of used to working for someone who's pretty unpopular. Not that..."

  He laughed, making her smile at her own faux pas.

  "I guess I do plan making a few changes that will make me a little unpopular."

  Jessica really was warming to him. Sure, he wasn't compromising now any more than he had as a kid. But this was kind of different. Like he was acknowledging that he could be difficult to be around. But there was something else he wasn't telling her. Jessica could sense something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

  "The clothes, Jessica. And those shoes. You chose quite well, actually. Better than I'd imagined. You're the only one who's followed that instruction. It's a great start."

  Jessica didn't particularly want to be reminded of what she was wearing. Her shoes hurt far less now that she'd taken a chair, and she was trying to ignore the fact that her skirt kept riding a little higher than she'd like.

  "Let's talk about the role, shall we? See if your skills match what I'm looking for?"

  Jessica nodded, adding "I read the notes from the agency. I think I have an idea of the basics."

  As Edward told her that the agency's notes really were only a part of the role, he looked straight into Jessica's eyes and sensed something change in her.

  "I kind of appreciate that, Edward, but I do want you to know that I expect our arrangement to be set out very clearly. I wouldn't want to be involved in anything dubious."

  "Mr Strickland," he corrected.

  Jessica questioned him. Surely he didn't expect her to call him by his surname as if she were some kind of servant? They weren't exactly friends, but they'd kind of grown up around each other. She didn't need some weird formality to know who was boss.

  "I appreciate that, Jessica, but this is my company and those things need to be my decision. There's nothing wrong with us both having a little reminder that you know your place. Besides, I like the sound of it. My Dad was always the only Mr Strickland people respected. You're going to be leading on making sure that people understand I'm taking that title now."

  "But really..." she started, almost laughing at the formality he expected of her.

  "Jessica," he interrupted, "there are two ways we can do this. You have a choice. You can do things my way, or we can end this now."

  He stared at her. A rush of a feeling she didn't recognise her ran through her and made her blush.

  She looked right back at him, confirming to both of them that she was going to be what he expected.

  "Yes, Mr Strickland. Of course."

  It felt good. Strangely good. There was something about compliance that she kind of enjoyed. She'd felt it earlier that morning when she was slipping on the clothes that he'd asked her to wear. That he'd required her to wear. It was as if she enjoyed his power almost as much as he did himself.

  "We'll have a look at your typing skills, I think," he told her. "There'll be quite a lot of correspondence to type once things start to take shape."

  He gestured for her to take a seat at his desk, pulling up a chair right next to her.

  "The book just there. I've left a page open for you. If you copy from the second paragraph, we'll see where you get to."

  Jessica made the mistake of turning it over to look at the cover. That damn Hints of Submission thing. She'd read it. Loved it. Read it a second time, and a third. Her friends had read it and giggled over the billionaire guy wanting to take his women exactly as he chose to. The kind of thing that could only be read on an e-reader. And definitely not the kind of thing to be using in a copytyping test.

  "The words, Jessica. I chose it because there are a few things there that the PC won't auto-correct. You'll need to focus."

  Sure he had. More likely he'd chosen it just to make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe to have her give in and walk out. There were a hundred other things he could have chosen for unusual words. Shakespeare or some such. Anything but the kind of smut she loved but could never admit to.

  For a moment, she thought of arguing with him. Suggesting something else, or asking him to refer to her resume. But she knew that a reference from her previous boss was unlikely, and that she'd have to prove she could do the job he expected. She also reminded herself that the kind of job she most enjoyed wouldn't be easy to walk into. Certainly not at the kind of salary Edward Strickland was offering.

  Edward was confident that any real resistance would have come by now.

  "Let's get started, shall we?"

  Jessica focused on the book, knowing that once she was familiar with the keyboard the words would start to flow. She told herself to focus on showing that she was a great typist rather than being concerned about the words she was actually typing. And there was something about not letting him win too easily.

  Edward found himself enjoying the rhythm of Jessica's fingers dancing across the keys. The polish on her fingernails was perfect, and he found himself unable to keep up with watching the type appear on the screen. His heart skipped more than a couple of beats as he glanced down to see Jessica's thighs appearing in the space between her skirt and her stockings, and he attempted to hide his delight in simply watching her obey him. He might, at last, have found the girl he'd been looking for.

  There were any number of girls he'd known from school who might have done this for him. When he was twenty, he could have the pick of anyone in town. But now, only a few years later, he had trouble in finding someone who could really understand him. He knew he was inviting trouble doing it all this way. The old Mr Strickland would never do anything like this. Work was work and home was strictly for his family. But Edward craved something different. Someone different. Someone who would be at his side throughout. Someone who would work with him and for him.

  The difficulty was that he needed someone who did that out of admiration and connection, not just someone who needed to pay the bills.

  Jessica found herself unable to resist reading the text at the same time as typing it. It was familiar to her, and she knew what parts were coming up next. A leading man with an affection for having pretty girls submit to him. His constant search for one particular girl who might submit to him permanently. Was that what Edward Strickland wanted, she wondered. Was this really all about finding a secretary, or was it about something else entirely?

  "You've done very well, Jessica," Edward told her, placing his hands across the keys and gesturing that she could stop. "You didn't seem to find those words at all difficult. Perhaps they're more familiar to you than I'd expected."

  Jessica stretched her fingers, as if she were an athlete cooling down after a vigorous exercise session. "I hope it's accurate," she told him. "I think you'll find that there are very few errors."

  He instructed Jessica to bring more coffee, and it was only when she reached the kitchen that she recognised how short he'd been about it. None of the niceties of a gentle request. He'd been authoritative and demanding, and it was clear to her that there wasn't any room for discussion. The feelings she had around that unnerved her. She was ordinarily anything other than compliant, but it was like Edward had some peculiar hold on her.

  "It wouldn't hurt for you to make the coffee yourself, you know. I'm still a guest here after all."

  Jessica turned to kick the door closed behind her, knowing instantly that she'd said the wrong thing.

  "Yo
ur coffee, Mr Strickland," she told him as she placed it gently on his desk. She must remember not to push things.

  He rose from his chair, puffing himself up as if wanting to make his presence clear.

  "Jessica. You will go back to the kitchen, re-make this coffee and present it to me properly. And then we're going to discuss your position again. Clear?"

  Jessica nodded apologetically, lifting the coffee from the desk and walking away from him. What was this? Was it some sort of childish game where Edward Strickland had to show that he was better than the other kids? Or had the adult Edward really grown into someone who genuinely couldn't deal with the thought of not being in control?

  More than that, though, what was he doing to her? Jessica had never obeyed anyone like this. There was something about him that made her want to. Something about him that made her want to please him - whatever that took. And there was something that made her want this job for far more than just the money.

  Jessica found herself blushing as she waited for the water to boil a second time. Was he looking for a submissive as well as a PA? That would certainly explain why the position had stayed vacant so long.

  "Mr Strickland, may I ask you something?"

  Jessica's tone was gentle. She would have to be careful about phrasing this. Her suggestion might be totally outrageous, and she knew that she didn't want to see Edward's wrath going at full scale.

  "No, Jessica, you may not. Take a seat, please, and we'll discuss your typing test."

  There were three errors. Minor typos, two of which were in a part of the text where Jessica had noticed Edward staring at her legs and had let herself become distracted.

  "I'm sorry, Mr Strickland. That's clearly not to my usual standard."

  He looked back at the text, murmuring something incomprehensible to himself.

  "Nor is it to the standard I expect," he told her. "And we need to give some thought to the consequences of incidents like this."

  "Consequences?" she asked him, before the wheels had taken time to turn in her mind and bring her to the only possible explanation. "You mean punishment, don't you?"

 

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