She looked surprised that I knew who she was. That I had essentially hired her.
Damn right I do. Damn right I did.
This is my firm. Some lawyer friends helped me with the logistical details of getting it off the ground and they run the place during my frequent absences— I’m an outdoors guy and can’t stand the confines of a year- round office— but everyone knows that it wouldn’t be a fucking firm without me. None of the partnership shares would be as big.
Nothing gets done without my say so. And no one gets hired without my input.
I wanted to hire Madilyn St. Clair from the minute I saw her resume. I didn’t interview her, but I saw her walk through the office on her way to Ron Sanchez’ office, and I was glad I had listened to my initial gut feeling to bring her in.
I can feel my cock growing hard just from fucking thinking about her. I know everything about her except what she looks like with her naked ass up in the air while I spank it. But that’s about to change.
“And now I’d like to introduce Asher Marks, without whom nothing you see here would be possible,” says Ron, from the front of the conference room. “Asher, I’ll let you take it from here.”
I’m annoyed that my fantasy about Madilyn was interrupted. But I can wait to indulge myself in pleasure until after my business obligations are concluded.
I stand up and head to the front of the conference room, conscious of some female associates at one end of one of the tables, who appear to be salivating over me. Candace Smith, Mandy Calderon and Tara Mason.
They were all decent candidates for associates, but none of them are made of the stuff that Madilyn is. I don’t want any of them in the same way I want her. Joseph Miller, a mediocre recruit from an out of state law firm, sits by them, wanting to do to them what it’s really fucking obvious that all of them want to do with me.
I nod in his direction, and he straightens up, a shit eating grin on his face that says, He noticed me.
What I wanted to convey was more along the lines of, Good luck, buddy. They’re all yours.
I pat Ron on the shoulder and he sits down.
“Thank you for that introduction, Ron,” I say. “That was too kind.”
I look out at the audience: twenty- five new associates eager to rise to the top. Some of them eager to get there by any means possible, including, for the female population, being mentored by me, and anything that might entail.
And some of them— including Candace, Mandy, and Tara— and maybe Joe, too— wanting to by my mentee even if it isn’t a sure fire path to partnership or lateraling to another good firm.
I know I have a certain reputation. I like it that way. Nothing happens here that I don’t fucking want and like. Everyone knows that.
What I want is Madilyn St. Clair. And everyone is about to find that out.
Chapter 8 – Asher
I start a slideshow on the projector above my head.
“Welcome to Marks Sanchez & Reed,” I begin. “Here on the screen you can see our first office. We set up shop in the Northeast Heights when we couldn’t afford downtown real estate and when Albuquerque was only half the size it is now.”
I click a button, and our current building appears on screen. It’s the tallest one in Albuquerque, and the firm name appears across the top of it.
“While this firm bears my name as first and foremost on its letterhead, I couldn’t have gotten here without— as the Beatles say— a little help from my friends.”
I click forward to a photo of me and Ron Sanchez and Bill Reed, at a black tie fundraising gala last year. And then to a photo of the four of us twenty years ago, toasting to the news that we had settled a big case and had enough money to move to a new and better office.
“Since childhood I’ve had the knack for entrepreneurship and for making money. This story ages me— if the Beatles reference and talk about historical Albuquerque hasn’t already—”
Everyone laughs. The three women on the side table try to sound sexy with their rather obviously forced laughter, while Madilyn sincerely lets loose a good belly chuckle.
“But I started my neighborhood’s first marble ring at age 8. If you wanted a better marble, you traded yours in to the kid who had the one you wanted, and paid him ten cents. Five of it went to him, and five to the ringleaders.”
The laughs continue.
“When times were good— whenever a kid had gotten paid extra for doing an errand around the house, or Grandma came to visit and gave him a quarter— kids improved their marble collection. And when times were bad— when a kid wanted the latest comic book but didn’t have the money, or he was being bullied by some kid at lunch who required a pay-off to leave him alone— kids sold their marbles to make a little cash. But the house always won. And the ring wouldn’t have been the ring without my other ringleaders. The rest moved on, moved out of the neighborhood, disappeared. But one of them was Ron Sanchez. We’re still leading the ring today.”
Everyone claps.
“Thank you for the applause.” I nod. “But my point is that it takes a team of hard working, intelligent and— most of all— trustworthy people to build any organization that’s worthwhile. There was a reason that each of you were chosen as associates.”
I look directly at Madilyn. She returns my stare for a second, and then looks down at her laptop.
“There’s a meaning to all of you being here today. The firm believes in you, and wants you as part of the team. The firm has a very special purpose for each of you.”
Again I look at Madilyn.
I can tell, even with the lights dimmed for the projector presentation and even with her face downcast, that she’s blushing.
She knows I want her. I’ve never been one to hide my desires.
I click a button, and a photo shows up, of five guys— one of them being me— on top of a mountain.
“This is my team on top of Mount Everest last summer.”
The crowd gasps. It’s a breathtaking view.
“We got there not right away but little by little, working together and as a team. It’s why I wasn’t here to meet any of you who were clerks last summer. But I did learn valuable lessons to bring back to you. We are all on the same team. We all must do our part. We each must do what is asked of us.”
I stare straight at Madilyn, who shifts her eyes up at me and then back down.
“The concept of teamwork, of working together and helping each other, is why I started the associate mentoring program,” I continue.
I can see the three women on the end straighten up. Undoubtedly they’ve heard of this program. They know that that whichever associate is my mentor also becomes my lover. And they all want to be that associate.
And that’s why they won’t be. Because they’re too fucking eager. I hate easy targets. I like a challenge.
I look at Madilyn and continue.
“Your mentors will find you later this afternoon and set up an initial appointment,” I tell the room. “The rest of today’s orientation will be about office procedures such as billing, using the brief bank, working on assignments, using the firm software and computers and the like. But your meeting with your mentors will be where you get into the heart and soul of practicing law. Your mentor will be your coach, your guide, and your guru. It is my hope that these relationships will serve you well throughout your associateship here at Marks, Sanchez & Reed.”
Everyone waits with baited breath. They want to find out who their mentors are. And, perhaps even more importantly to some of them, who my mentee is.
I smile, knowing that I’ve teased them long enough.
“Monique has a list of mentors matched with mentees that she will pass out now before starting the portion of orientation that deals with payroll and benefits. There isn’t much rhyme or reason to why mentors were paired with mentees, since we don’t know much about you yet, and we only hope to be able to make some good guesses based on stated interests and goals.”
The three women in
the front are whispering to each other, and it’s obvious they don’t believe me. They know that my mentee is carefully chosen ahead of time, as are many of the others.
“Without further ado, I’ll leave you in the good hands of Monique.”
Everyone looks disappointed, but I couldn’t help one last tease.
“I’ll be leaving for the rest of the day. I’ve got client business to attend to and you’ll soon learn that the practice of law never stops. But before I go, I’m pleased to announce that my mentee this year is Madilyn St. Clair. I’m happy with the assignment, and I hope that all of you will be just as pleased with yours.”
I can hear Tara Mason’s gasp as I walk towards the exit. She covers her mouth, but whispers to Mandy.
Annoying tendencies such as these are one of the many reasons I would never choose her as my mentee.
I look at Madilyn and raise my eyebrows. She’s staring straight back at me, as if taking me up on the challenge.
There’s nothing I like better a challenge. It’s why I’d chose a Madilyn over a Tara— or anyone in her crew— a thousand times over.
And as if showing me just how much of a challenge she’s going to be, Madilyn lowers her eyes once again.
But I know she’s heard my message loud and clear— I’ve made sure of it, by delivering it in front of a room full of her peers— and now it’s up to her to respond to my cues.
For extra affect, I drop a folded piece of stationery paper in front of her before leaving the room.
If she is the woman I think she is, then she will be mine for the taking.
And I have never been wrong about this sort of thing.
My knack for women is as good as my knack for entrepreneurialism and money making. It hasn’t always been this way— it wasn’t as ingrained in me since childhood like the marble ring or other business ventures I started at a young age.
I had to learn the hard way, to move from what I know I didn’t want to what I know I do want. But once I realized it, I’ve been as right about women as I have been about business and the law.
And I know enough about women to know that Madilyn St. Clair is going to be mine.
Continue reading Yes, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance.
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