Isabelle And Mr Bete Ch 01

*I thought it would be fun to write a take on the well known story of Beauty and the Beast, with some light BDSM thrown in for the kinks :-).

Don't expect a lot of hanky-panky though, at least I don't think it'll happen soon and the focus is on romance.

When all chapters are done I plan to rework the whole thing once more and release it as an ebook.

The story; Isabelle is blackmailed into working for Jean-Marie Bête after he finds out how good of an assistant she is. She has to, to get her father's confiscated cargo ships back and until she finds a replacement to work for Jean-Marie in her stead.

*Literotica rules apply

***

The day didn't start well for Mark Anderson when he heard what had happened to his cargo ships.

'What do you mean confiscated!?' he shouted into his phone.

The apologetic voice on the other side couldn't give him any more information than that his ships had been taken because of an unpaid fuel bill to the Bête holding. Slamming the phone down he called for Isabelle, his daughter and personal assistant.

She hurried into his office, having heard his outburst across the main office floor already, and found him slumped back in his leather chair, massaging his greying temples.

'Dad? What's going on?' she asked, kneeling beside him and laying her hands on his thigh.

'The ships have been confiscated because we haven't yet paid their fuel bill to Bête.' he groaned.

'Can't we talk to them? Make a deal to pay after the cargo has been sold?'

Mark looked at his daughter, her beauty almost making him forget his worries. 'You don't know Jean-Marie Bête. He's a very strict business man and won't show leniency to anyone.'

Her face turned to determined. 'All the more reason to talk to him. He has more to lose in the long term if he cuts us down.' she said and grabbed the phone.

'Wait, what are you doing?' her father asked when she started dialling a number.

'This is ms. Anderson from Anderson Trading. I'd like to make an appointment to discuss a financial matter with Mr. Bête.' she said to the other side of the line. After a pause 'Isn't there anyone who handles his calendar? There must be someone who knows what he's doing?'. She rolled her eyes at the apology on the other side. 'Okay, is he in today? Yes? Then let him know the president and his assistant will be coming over to see him if he has a few minutes to spare. It won't take long and it'll be profitable to him. Thank you.'

She let out a deep sigh of frustration after she put down the phone. 'Get your car dad, we're going over to see him.'

Her father looked at her with surprise. 'You really mean it.'

She nodded. 'We have to.'

Both father and daughter felt nervous on their way to the man who held the future of the company in his hands. Mark hoped his daughter's stubbornness wouldn't make Jean-Marie mad and get them into bigger trouble. Isabelle hoped she could appeal to him with her proposition and keep the company afloat for long enough to raise a profit.

They parked in the office garage and rode the elevator up. Isabelle took a few deep breaths to get her act together. The proposition she had drafted and held in her hand had to be accepted.

The elevator doors opened up to a small glass encased hall with elaborate etching of roses in the glass. Through two glass doors they came upon the receptionist, a middle aged woman who radiated cheerful competence in her job.

'Mr. Anderson to see Mr. Bête. We called earlier.' Isabelle said.

'Welcome.' the woman said, her smile warm. 'I have left him the message that you came to see him earlier, but he said he had no time to see you.' She raised her eyebrows a little. 'I'm sorry. I called you back but then I heard you were already on your way here.'

Isabelle nodded and gave her a smile back. 'I understand. But isn't there any spare time in his schedule today?'

'I'm afraid I don't really know.' the woman said, pulling a notepad closer. 'Since Beth, his former assistant, left it's been a bit of chaos here.'

'Oh?' Isabelle said, raising an eyebrow and looking at the open part of the office behind the front desk, seeing now that things weren't just busy, but also too hectic for a normal day at an office. 'And there's no replacement?'

The woman shook her head. 'To be honest, Mr. Bête isn't an easy man to work with. Not that he's a bad boss, but he's very involved and a workaholic and it's difficult finding a competent assistant who can keep up with him. Beth lasted half a year.'

'Involved and workaholic doesn't have to be a bad thing.' Isabelle said. 'Some people could use a little more of that.' she said, just loud enough for her father to hear and he gave her a look that meant he would get her back when they got home.

The woman recognised the look and chuckled. 'Wait here, I'll see if I can ask him again and hopefully get a few minutes for you.'

'Thank you, ..?' Isabelle said, feeling a little better.

'Colette.' the woman said.

'Thank you, Colette.' Isabelle said again. 'I'm Isabelle.'

'I'll be back quickly.'

Isabelle saw Colette disappear behind a sectioned off part of the office and turned back to her father. 'There has to be a chance to meet him.'

Her father nodded. 'I hope so, my dear, I really hope so.'

When Colette came back a minute later she smiled softly. 'He said he doesn't have time to spare right now, but if you're willing to wait there might be a chance to see him. He does have to take a break once in a while.'

Isabelle thought about it and nodded. 'I'll take it.'

'Isabelle, you want to wait here for who knows how long?' Mark asked.

'I'm willing to wait days, if it means saving the company, dad.' she said. 'Don't worry about me and go back to the office and make sure you can get the cargo where it has to go. I'll have him release our ships.'

Her father had to smile at his confident daughter. Her stubbornness might just be what's needed. 'All right. I have faith in you.'

She gave him a peck on his cheek. 'Go, I'll call you later.'

He gave a nod to Colette. 'Thank you.'

'I'll take care of her.' she said and he went for the elevator.

'Would you like some coffee or tea?' Colette asked.

'Coffee please. That'll help me with waiting.'

Colette went to the office kitchen and came back with coffee, a piece of cake and some magazines. 'I hope you like chocolate.' she said as she put the piece on the table beside Isabelle's seat. 'And I thought you might like something to read. Although the choice isn't that much entertaining.'

'I love cake.' Isabelle said, perking up a little. 'And it'll compensate for the dry business reading.' she chuckled.

Isabelle had been leafing through the magazines while enjoying the cake, making a mental note to get one when she returned to the office.

'I have no idea..' she heard the young women who came to Colette say. 'I never did anything like that.'

Isabelle listened more attentively.

'Neither did I.' said Colette. 'It was always the assistant who managed that.'

'Shit. If I pick the wrong restaurant he'll take it out on me, I just know it. I hardly get out to eat myself.'

Isabelle watched the two fretting and thought she might as well help since there wasn't much to do while waiting.

She went up to Colette. 'Maybe I can help?'

The women looked up at her.

'I know a lot of restaurants in the city, also because I always arranged dinner meetings for my father.'

Colette's smile returned. 'Please, Mr. Bête has a business relation coming for a deal and needs a good restaurant to soften him up. And he didn't want the usual ones where he'd been a dozen times.'

'Tell me about the guest.' Isabelle said.

'Samantha?' asked Colette, looking up at the young woman.

Samantha checked the notes she had. 'Well, he's from a Scandinavian company.., Swedish in fact. Lumber industry.'

'And do you have any idea how long he's been here and will stay?'

'I've heard Mr. Bête say he's been talking business here for a few weeks, and would stay several weeks more before going back home.'

Isabelle pondered for a few moments, then wrote down a name on a memo pad and handed it to Samantha. 'Call them and ask if they can make something traditional Swedish. The chef there is from Norway. I'll bet your guest is in the mood for a little piece of home and the restaurant is nothing fancy, but feels very relaxed.'

Samantha tore the paper from the pad and felt relief flowing over her. 'Thank you so much! You saved my life.'

Colette and Isabelle watched her go back to her desk and enthusiastic call the restaurant.

'You don't happen to know anything about sorting out appointments without making a bigger mess of them, do you?' Colette asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

Isabelle grinned. 'Hand over that calendar.'

Jean-Marie leaned back into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been busy since the morning trying to get a grip on his email, appointments, documentation he needed to read through before meetings with lower management and business relations, and then there were still the mandatory social contacts and events.

He had just gone through the reports on the lumber market when he called for Samantha.

For some reason she looked more cheerful than she had when he asked her to arrange a restaurant for his meeting with Jan Nyström, a supplier of quality wood he needed for a range of wood products for the home.

'Have you reserved a restaurant?'

She nodded. 'Yes Mr. Bête.' she said and handed him a note with address and name. 'I've asked them if they can serve something that would make him feel at home for the evening since he's been gone for a while, and they have a few suggestions for when you arrive. I also entered the contact details into your contacts under a group named restaurants so you can look it up on your mobile. I've grouped the other relevant contacts there.'

He was rather surprised at this insight.

She put down a stack of pages on his desk. 'These are the meeting notes for tomorrow and the relevant reports on the agenda items,' she said, then put down more pages next to them. 'this is a request for expansion of the warehouse capacity at Wild Water with the estimated cost and the current status on capacity of other warehouses close by in case the problem can be solved by shifting inventory around. And these are the summaries of the latest changes in taxes across the states to be looked over any time you can in the coming week.'

'Thank you.' he said, taken aback by the sudden efficiency when it's been chaotic since Beth left.

He looked at his computer screens and noticed a change in his inbox. There were a lot less emails in it. 'What the..' he said to himself when he noticed several new folders sorted by priority. He clicked on all of them and they contained the emails that belonged in there. Only a few which only he could decide on were left in the inbox.

He checked his calendar and noticed some appointments were rescheduled, making his time in and out of the office more efficient. He had to know what was going on and stepped out of his office to Samantha.

'Samantha, what is-' he started, then saw a young brunette woman he had never seen before talking to a couple of his sales managers. He had never seen them laugh like that before, and after an exchange of more words they went back discussing the magazine she had given them.

An intern came to her next and she seemed to explain a few things to him before going on her way again.

'Mr Bête?'

He returned his attention to Samantha, looking puzzled at him. 'What?'

'You were about to say something?'

He looked at the woman who was talking to Colette now. 'How come things feel smoother, and who is she and what is she doing here?'

'She's been helping us cope with the things Beth used to do because we've never done them before. She's a great organiser. I think her name is Isabelle Anderson.' Samantha said, pondering for a moment. 'Yes, that's it.'

It took a while before he recognised the name. 'Wait a minute, how long has she been going around the office here?'

'A few hours?' Samantha said timidly, seeing the frown grow on her boss's brow.

'Damned!' he said and walked over to Isabelle.

Isabelle jumped at the firm grasp of her elbow while she discussed options for charity sponsoring.

'You.' said Jean-Marie, almost growling. 'Come with me.'

Before Colette could say anything he dragged Isabelle back to his office, ignoring her complaints about his rough handling. He pushed her onto one of the chairs in front of his desk and shut the door. 'What the hell do you think you're doing!?'

Isabelle rubbed her sore elbow. 'Waiting until I could take a few minutes of your time.'

He turned to glare at her. She looked back defiantly with her brown eyes, showing no sign of malice.

'By going around my office, talking to my people!?'

'I only gave them advice on issues they couldn't handle well. Because a certain person chased away the one person who used to do those things.'

'How would you know anything about that!?'

'Because it's my job to keep a tab on the going ons in a company and keep things organised for the president's and the company's needs.' she said, crossing her arms in front of her. 'By the way, I suggested to Colette to have your French guest coming next week stay at the Oak Inn instead of the Waterfront since they're going to be taking down part of the building in front of it by then. I don't think he'd be able to rest well when there's a load of jackhammers tearing down walls nearby.'

He wanted to say she was wrong, but she wasn't, he had read the local news announcing the renovation. She had thought of the little things he hadn't thought about. Frustrated at having to admit this stranger made some very good suggestions he sat into his own chair.

'You came here to discuss a financial matter if I'm not mistaken.'

She nodded and stood up. 'If you can bear with me for a moment?' she said and opened the office door. 'Samantha, can you hand me the proposal I left on your desk?'

Samantha brought Isabelle's report to her. 'Is everything okay?' she whispered, looking worried.

Isabelle smiled softly. 'So far.' she whispered. 'It's only this I worry about.'

'Good luck.' Samantha whispered before returning to her desk.

Isabelle closed the door and handed her proposal to Jean-Marie. 'In here are the numbers on the expected sale of the cargo on the ships you're holding. As you can see there's enough profit to pay your fuel bill and any interest on the amount. Of course, you could try to keep the ships and sell the cargo yourself, but the legal costs and time wouldn't make it worth it, especially since our buyers aren't in your market and wouldn't buy from an unknown supplier.'

He skimmed over the numbers and agreed with her assessment. 'I'd still gain something, even if it isn't that much.'

'You want more?'

He looked up at her. 'Out of principle.'

She looked at him, feeling anger welling up at this cold-hearted bastard. 'I'd like to call our president into it.' She said, gesturing at his phone. 'Can I?'

He nodded and she dialled the number to the office, asking for Mr. Anderson.

'Isabelle?' her father asked. 'How's it going? Did you get to see him?'

'I'm in his office discussing our proposal with him right now. He's not satisfied with our offer to pay including any interest.'

'He isn't!?'

'Mr. Anderson.' said Jean-Marie. 'I have read it and it just doesn't satisfy my needs.'

'We're willing to offer you a percentage of the profit of the sale of this cargo.' said Isabelle.

Jean-Marie smiled softly.

'Isabelle, honey. Are you sure we can do that?' her father asked, his worry evident.

'We can. We'll just have to settle for less until our next haul.'

She could hear her father think on the other side. 'All right then, how much?' he asked.

Isabelle looked at Jean-Marie but before she could speak he held up his hand. 'More money wouldn't satisfy my needs.'

'Then what do you need?' she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

'What do you think?' he asked, looking past her at the empty desk on the other side of the glass wall.

Isabelle connected the dots. 'A personal assistant!?'

He nodded. 'As you see, I'm in desperate need of one.'

'Why not call an agency?'

He shifted in his seat. 'You could say I have a reputation, and there are few willing to take the job, even at extra pay.'

'Then how do you expect us to find one for you?'

He looked her in the eyes. 'You can take your time, as long as there's a competent substitute in the meantime who already gets along with my staff and has proven she's smart.'

The gears in her mind started churning harder and she didn't like the short time answer. 'You want me to be your assistant!?'

A corner of his mouth pulled up.

'You've got to be kidding!? I already have a job like that!'

'I guess I'll have to reject your proposal then.'

'You..' she hissed between her teeth, seething with anger.

'Isabelle! Honey!' her father said. 'Calm down!'

'How can I calm down when he wants me to work here when I can't leave the company!?'

'It's okay. Your sisters can handle part of your work when we shuffle some of their work to Jack and Liu. We can handle things here while you stay there until we find someone for him.'

'Dad!?'

'Trust me, honey. Do it for the company. It'll only be for a little while.'

She glared at Jean-Marie who's half smile bordered on smirking. 'And if I accept?'

'Then I will order the release of your ships, even forego the interest and legal costs.'

She hated how he controlled the future of her father's company and all its people.

'And do realise, since I work long days I expect you to stay by my side. There's a room with all necessities available at my place.'

She thought things just couldn't get any worse.

'Honey?' asked her father, almost pleading.

She slumped in a chair. 'Fine! I'll do it..'

'I'll have my people set up the contract and send it to you, Mr. Anderson.' Jean-Marie said and hung up the call. 'Welcome to Bête Holding.' he said, enjoying his personal victory for the day.