Surviving the Rich-Sunshine and Sir

New Year's Resolution

The hosts sat all six of her tables at once, everyone ordered at the same time, and she was in the weeds. People were getting pissed and her stress level was through the roof. She stood at the computer trying to ring in her orders and she didn't know the system. She dropped her book, scattering orders all over the floor. "Shit."

She hated serving. Suddenly a pair of black shoes, polished till they shone were standing on the orders. "Have you made your decision?"

Rae looked up and Killian held out his hand. She glanced at the scattered orders and pissed off patrons, and decided she was done with restaurants. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her up.

Killian smiled and brushed a few stray hairs from her face. Sliding a hand around her waist he grasped her face and pulled her lips to his. The electricity within him uncoiled, and her whole body thrummed in response. All at once he scooped her up in his arms eliciting a small cry of surprise. He started for the door and said, "Now you belong to me."

Rae's eyes flew open, and the flickering lights of the television made them ache a touch. Work dreams. She was always a server at her old restaurant, and completely in the weeds. Although Killian coming to the rescue and carrying her out in dramatic movie fashion was new, and not like her. That kind of melodrama usually made her eyes roll, hard. Rubbing her forehead she looked at the T.V. The replay of New Years in Times Square was going strong. She grabbed her phone off the ottoman and checked the time. Three. At least she made to three, so that was a solid two and half hours of sleep. From here on out she'd be up every half hour, if she slept at all. Turning on her side, she closed her eyes and tried to drift back to sleep, keeping her mind quiet. Quiet.

The cable bill was due tomorrow. She tried to cancel it, but they were tied into a contract, and the fee for cancellation was insane. Her saying they had no money to pay the bill or the fee made no difference. She forced it from her mind, picturing Reagan's smiling face. All the bills due within a week pushed their way to the surface; gas, credit cards, DUI restitution payments to Michigan and Illinois, not to mention food, gas for cars, and now Jimmy's needed a new battery. Reagan needed shoes, and a gift for a friend's birthday party Rae almost said no too. A fifteen dollar birthday present was a luxury. She tried to find Reagan's smile again, and the quiet, forcing everything out. Reagan's smile. She wouldn't be smiling when they were living in someone's basement without a dime to their names, unable to give her a present for her own birthday.

The panic overwhelmed her and she sat up, clutching her chest. Her heart felt like it was spasming, and her skin was ice cold while everything underneath was a raging fire. She broke out into a cold sweat and threw the blanket over the back of the couch. Her t-shirt and pajama pants were already clinging to her in places and she grimaced, but grabbed her sweatshirt anyway. The thermostat was set low at night, and the house was freezing. Thousands were celebrating as the final countdown began, and she swung her legs off the sofa, staring at the revelers. Her townhouse had an open floorplan, so the bright lights of Times Square lit up the kitchen and hallway to her left in eerie flashes.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her bag on the kitchen table, and poking out of the top, the manila envelope. It had been on the floor of her car, so she'd stuffed into her bag fully intent on putting it through a shredder.

"Keep lying to yourself," she breathed. "That always helps."

Taking deeper and deeper breaths, she pushed herself off the sofa and grabbed a glass of water. The master bedroom was partially above the kitchen, and faintly coming through the ceiling were Jimmy's freight train snores. That's why she slept on the sofa, his snoring could wake the dead. She wondered if Killian snored.

"Don't do that," she said, dismissing his face from her thoughts. Easier said than done. She could still feel the warmth of his body pressed to hers. Her heart started racing again, and it wasn't panic this time, at least it was a different kind of panic, one that made her whole body flush with a more enjoyable warmth. His lips had been so close to hers she could taste him on the air. She thought he was going to kiss her, and was surprised when she was almost disappointed he didn't.

Her eyes drifted to her bag and she sighed in defeat. Turning the light on, she grabbed the envelope and sat down at the kitchen table. The contract was fairly straightforward, but she reread every sentence, trying to ferret out any insidious intentions. A stack of bills was next to the laptop, and when she compared the amounts owed to the numbers on his bonus structure sheet they were the same, down to the penny. He really did have extensive, and frightening resources.

"Am I really considering this?"

A new job, working for a man who could bend her over his desk whenever he wished. She really was considering it. If it were any one of the other masters of the universe she wouldn't be. She may have even gone to her general manager Victoria with evidence of harassment in hand. But it was Killian. She showed him she could be bought, and cleavage wasn't enough for the king of the mountain, he wanted her whole body. Ryan had been right all along. She thought he was just being an ass for the fun of it. Killian never flirted, or made comments about her body like some of the others. She never caught any lingering looks, but somehow Ryan had.

The amount of money Killian was willing to spend made little sense. He didn't need to pay for companionship, and he certainly wasn't lacking in attention. Suddenly she saw his eyes, the intensity within making her shiver.

I always get what I want, and I want you Rae. In more ways than one.

Killian Laird wanted her. Pressed against him, she'd felt an almost electric power coiling and uncoiling within him. It was the only word she could think of to describe it, electric. Combined with that domineering, almost dangerous undercurrent of the predator, she'd been a deer in headlights, or more accurately, caught in his sights.

She looked at the T.V. and watched the countdown. She'd been in her car on the way home when the new year began. She wanted this one to be better for her family. She wanted the constant fear, misery, and panic attacks to end. The volume was low but she could still hear the crowd yelling.

"Ten! Nine!"

I understand I always get what I want.

"Eight! Seven!"

Would it really be so bad, being Killian's everything?

"Six! Five!"

I always get what I want, and I want you Rae.

"Four!"

Killian Laird, king of the mountain, boss and lover.

"Three!"

I want you Rae.

"Two!"

He'd own her.

"One!"

In more ways than one.

"Happy New Year!"

********************

Rae looked upward as she walked into the building, not at all surprised his office was on the top floor. She needed to get it over with, and if she didn't do it now she wouldn't. Reagan meant everything to her, and Rae wanted to be the kind of woman her daughter could look up too, that she was proud of. So every step was a battle, her pride and self-worth shattered by the time she stepped into the elevator. But pride was meaningless when you couldn't afford to take care of your child.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped into a marble floored foyer. A plaque with Quinlan, Laird, Caldwell, Phaber, and Laird, was on the wall, with an arrow underneath pointing to the left. Rae squared her shoulders, put on her mask, and stepped through the doors. Sitting behind a large, semi-circular desk, with a three paneled glass wall behind her, the receptionist smiled in welcome. She was on the phone so Rae smiled in return and waited. The glass panels weren't just a wall, they were works of art. The blues in the first panel appeared to roil and swirl into the greens and golds of the second, which flowed into reds, oranges, and yellows of the third. It played with the eye's perception, but was almost impossible to look away from.

The receptionist hung up the phone and said, "The Hillcrest right?"

She'd come into the restaurant a few times with other staff, but Rae had never heard her name. She smiled again and said, "Good memory. Rae Ingram. I was hoping to see Mr. Laird."

"Did you have an appointment?"

"No. But he was expecting I'd drop by sometime this week."

The receptionist looked at her both doubtful and curious, then picked up the phone. "Stella, there's a Rae Ingram here to see Mr. Laird. She doesn't have an appointment." She glanced at Rae, getting ready to tell her too bad, instead her eyes filled with surprise and she hung up. 'Stella will be out in just a moment."

"Thank you," Rae said, warmly.

The receptionist smiled and picked up another call. On either side of the desk were halls lined with doors, and Rae could see more glass pieces on the walls.

Suddenly Stella appeared coming down the hall on her left, a friendly smile on her face. In her fifties, she had the tight skin and complexion of a thirty year old. Her long, salt and pepper dreadlocks were pulled back and twisted into a partial bun, while the rest flowed down her back. "Rae," she said, warmly. "It's wonderful to see you. Please come with me."

"You too Stella," Rae said. "Thank you."

She followed Stella down the hall, passing conference rooms and offices, the butterflies in her stomach becoming a swarm of bees. Stella turned another corner and the hall opened up into an airy, comfortable outer office. In one corner was a three sided desk, with a computer, phone, and personal touches, including photos filled with Stella's children and grandchildren. Against the wall to her left was a brown leather sofa with matching chairs on each side. A painting of the Chicago skyline on the wall above was done in an almost patchwork mosaic slightly reminiscent of the glass panels. To her right were two doors, both closed.

"Killian is finishing up a meeting," Stella said gesturing to the sofa. "So, you're going to be the new everything?"

Rae was in the process of sitting and froze, her butt inches from the sofa. "Ah, maybe."

Stella laughed and sat behind the desk. "I knew he'd get you in his clutches eventually."

Rae dropped to the sofa, plastering a smile on her face. "Clutches?"

"He's always been impressed with you," Stella replied. "It was only a matter of when."

It was only a matter of when. She sat there, her gaze shifting between the two doors while Stella made calls. It was much quieter on this end of the building, like Killian's office was a separate entity from the rest of the firm. Laughter suddenly erupted, and the door on the left opened. Four men walked out with a grinning Killian right behind. A couple noticed her and quieted the other two. She pulled her phone from her coat pocket, pretending to read a text while Killian shook hands.

"Gentlemen," Stella said, coming around her desk, "let me show you out." She disappeared down the hall, chitchatting with her charges, her smile ever-present.

Killian turned his attention to Rae and slid his hands into his pockets. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket, but his black pants and vest were complimented by a white shirt with thin black, red, and olive stripes, and an olive and red tie. The platinum chain across his vest, connecting to his pocket watch, reflected the overhead light briefly, and she stood escaping its glare. "Rae." He gestured to the office and took a step back. "Please."

She fixed her restaurant smile on her face and walked into the office, head high.

Killian suppressed a smile of his own, her showing up at the office was unexpected. Predicting human behavior was a skill he'd cultivated and put to great use, and surprises were disappointing and costly. But Rae surprising him was a thrill and only upped the challenge of her. His eyes drifting downward as she passed. Her brown coat brushed the back of her knees, and he noticed the hems of her pants were more grey than black, and getting threadbare from being caught under heel. Her coat looked only slightly better, but when it came to buying clothes, her child came first. His own mother did the same, spending every spare penny on her children. Spoiling her had been one of the highlights of his success.

"Wow," Rae said. She walked over to the window, taking in the view. "I wondered."

"About my office?" he asked, shutting the door.

"What was on the top floor of this building," she replied, giving him a sideways glance. "It grabs the eye."

He smiled and said, "You don't say?"

Her gaze swept through the spacious room, picking out each item with the sharpened eyes of a hawk. "Corner office of course. But your use of color and space is unexpected." She looked at him and smiled wryly. "Shouldn't be though. You wouldn't leave anything to chance."

He crossed his arms, thoroughly enjoying himself, and said, "Please elaborate."

"You chose, or had someone choose, masculine yet warm colors on the earth tone wheel, except for the subtle yellow along this section of wall." She gestured to her right and said, "The sun hits the yellow and stays on it most of the day, adding a warm, inviting feel. The dark wood table cabinet is an antique, popping from the wall in a pleasing, but not overly dramatic, way. That honor goes to the desk, also an antique, and probably owned at one time by someone you admire or that your clients would be aware of. The polished mahogany and carved designs make me think early nineteen hundreds, but my knowledge of antiques is limited. The positioning of the desk asserts power, and the leather chairs in front are the right amount of prestigious and comfortable for clients of wealth and status. She walked through the room examining the few pieces of art he had on display, and then stood in front of the double doors, leading to his private conference room. "The entire space was feng shuid so there's a natural flow from door, to window, to desk, and back out."

"And the doors behind you?" he said, strolling over to her.

"I'm going to assume you and the four gentlemen who just left were sitting at the conference table." She slid the doors open and smiled at the water glasses on the table. "Business discussions with more than two people not only require chairs for all, but the room lends itself to the seriousness of discussions held within it."

She turned around startled to see him so close, but held her ground, waiting for confirmation. The warmth in his chest spread, becoming a buzzing titillation as it hit his groin. He wanted to take her on the table, make her come so hard she screamed his name. "I'm impressed," he said. And he was.

She smiled and said, "I was a theater geek; acting, writing, set design, directing, and everything else. I picked up a few things."

"I knew you'd be an asset to the firm," he said, reaching for her face. "And to me."

"I didn't sign the contract," she said, stopping him cold. "I have a few concerns."

He loved challenges, and Rae was going to challenge him every step of the way. It would only make his victory over her that much more satisfying. "And those concerns are?"

She pulled the contract out of her bag and said, "Line ten states, as your everything, I am to be available to you at all times, without exception. That isn't possible. I have a six year old whose father manages a restaurant, meaning ten to twelve hour days. I can't stick her with a babysitter at the drop of a hat, even if I could I won't do that to her."

He nodded thoughtfully and said, "I understand and I'm willing to compromise. A phone will be provided and I expect you to answer when I call, without exception. Most off hour's issues that come up won't require your physical presence, but since I'm always working, you're always working."

She rolled it over in her mind and said, "Doable."

"What else?"

For the first time uncertainty flashed through her eyes and she stepped back. Realizing her mistake, she covered by dropping her bag on the table and pulling out the bonus structure sheet. He moved closer, overshadowing the sheet, daring her to retreat again.

She met his gaze and said, "To be decided is vague and more than a little disconcerting. There's kink I will not participate in, and you can claim breach of contract-"

"The contract protects us both, and you have a certain autonomy. You can tell me no, and if you give me a legitimate reason as to why, then that's it."

"Legitimate reason," she said, a steel glint in her eye. "And you get to decide what is and isn't legitimate?"

Arousal flooded his groin and he imagined those eyes looking up at him as he pounded his dick down her throat. Taking in a calming breath he said, "I'm a reasonable man, I will not dismiss your concerns or fears. And I have to say, you're missing an important point in all this."

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "What would that be?"

"Your pleasure matters as much to me as my own, as does your happiness."

"You could have your pick of women Killian."

More than arousal flooded his limbs at hearing his name brush past her lips, the hunger made his dick drip. It was the rare woman who did that to him.

"None of this is necessary," she said. "The money you're willing to spend makes no sense."

She really didn't see how much he wanted her. Just her. "Could I get laid every night if I chose? Yes, I suppose I could. Be it through a date, a prostitute, or...take your pick. But I'm not a roll from one bed to another kind of man. The time and money put forth on wooing and relationships puts a stress on my wallet and my work. Believe me the money spent is almost equal to what's required to erase your debts. Six months seems to be the average for the best sex in a relationship." She arched an eyebrow and he smiled. "I said average, and the contract gives us the best of being in a relationship without all the bullshit that inevitably pops up. I'm tired of that game. This way we both get what we want."

And after six months the sexual relationship ends, or does it?"

She pointed to the contract, and he said, "That's only if we both decide to continue our sexual relationship. The contract will be amended to include another six months. But like I said, we both have to agree." She suddenly looked almost afraid, getting smaller before his eyes. He instinctively reached out to pull her into his arms and reassure her. He gently grasped her shoulders instead, fighting the protective urge he'd only felt for a precious few. "Do you honestly believe I want to abuse you in some way?"

"No," she said, after a moment. "I guess not."

He'd take I guess not over yes. Releasing her, he pulled a pen from his vest pocket and held it out. Her chest heaved beneath the coat she'd never taken off and she stared at the pen, the war in her eyes, crystal clear. Suddenly she snatched it and leaned over the table, signing herself over to him. He rolled his neck, the bombarding desires making being so close to her difficult. She left the contract and pen on the table, grabbed her bag, and stepped away. Immediately he felt her absence. The air chilled and he wanted her warmth back, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and give her a taste of the pleasures she had to look forward too.

"I'll give my notice today," she said, starting for the door.

"How much notice do you need to give?"

"At least two weeks, a month would be more appropriate."

He didn't like that. A month was too long, he wanted her by his side before that.

"What?" she said.

"I'll figure something out," he said, following her to the door.

She grasped the handle and he put his hand on the door before she could open it. "What's your rush?"