Men With Power: Seduced by a Billionaire

Men
With Power: Seduced By a Billionaire.

Adora
Bell

I
look in the mirror and sigh. It still doesn't look right. I pull the
shirt off over my head and fling it to the floor, joining several
others in the reject pile. First days at work are always
nerve-wracking, but I feel like if I can just look the part, I might
stand a chance of fitting in.

“
Iris,
you look fine, just hurry up or you'll miss your train.” My
mother, waiting to give me a ride to the station, is starting to get
impatient. But fine is not going to cut it at Jensen and Van Bleke. I
fought my way through three rounds of interviews to score this
prestigious internship, and I want to make the right first
impression. I try a plain white blouse with a v-neck, and examine my
reflection critically. I look good, sure...but even in my smart new
suit, I'm not sure how business-like I look. There's something about
the curve of my hips, the way my E-cup breasts fill out my jacket,
that I fear looks a little...slutty? Sometimes I wish I had a
figure more like my friends', lean and leggy like the girls in
magazines. But my body is all hourglass curves. Still, I love my
narrow waist, the slim taper of my legs in my new hold ups. I slip on
my jacket, straighten my skirt, and try to pull myself together.
After all, I have my lucky panties on, what could go wrong?

Carefully
climbing the steps in my new high heels, I feel my stomach lurch.
Even the building looks imposing. Impeccably dressed, polished
looking people are striding through the marble lobby as if they have
extremely important places to be. Feeling horribly out of place, I
wobble towards the reception desk. The receptionist, who probably
does this job in between modelling shoots, eyes me coldly. 
"I'm
Iris, um, Iris May...I'm the new intern."
She
cracks a perfect smile.
"Iris,
of course, Mr Jensen is expecting you. I'll show you upstairs."
Rae
turns out to be far less of an ice queen than she looks, and fills
the elevator ride to the 27th floor with friendly chatter. She's a
wannabe actress, rather than a model. Guess I should learn not to
judge from appearances. She deposits me in a small seating area in
the corner of the office, and bustles away to find coffee. I scan the
desks, wondering what my coworkers will be like. Suddenly, the hairs
on my neck tell me someone is watching me, and I find myself staring
straight into the gaze of a young man across the room. I feel myself
flush. He is the epitome of the up and coming businessman, smart
suit, hair arranged just so. His eyes are a startling shade of green,
and I feel them take me in from head to toe. I have heard the phrase
'undressing me with his eyes' before, but never really understood it
until now. I can do nothing but stare back, and will my face not to
turn the irritating shade of crimson it seems to love so much.
Without smiling, Mr Green Eyes releases me, turning his gaze back to
his computer screen.

I
take a deep breath and try and compose myself, since Rae is back and
ushering me towards my new boss' office. I've spoken to Mr Jensen
multiple times on the phone, always picturing a distinguished older
gentleman, a whisky-drinking, pipe-smoking type. So I'm a little
taken aback at the youthful figure sat behind the heavy oak desk. I
mean, he's older than me - mid-40s probably, judging by the
sprinkling of salt in his pepper black hair. But his athletic figure
is still evident beneath his crisp blue shirt. He isn't wearing a
jacket or tie, and as he stands up to shake my hand, I see he's
wearing chinos. Not a suit kind of guy, I think, as my eyes linger a
little too long on the bulge in the front of those expensive looking
pants. I grip the edge of my chair as I sit down, telling myself to
stop it. It's not my fault this company only seems to employ insanely
gorgeous people, but I'm here to get ahead in my career, not ogle the
talent.   
"I'm
sorry I didn't get a chance to meet you on your interview day, Miss
May. May I call your Iris?"
"Of
course, Mr Jensen."
"Evan,
please. Mr Jensen's my dad. It's a beautiful name, by the way, Iris.
You don't hear it much these days."
"It
was my grandmother's."
"How
nice."
We
exchange a few more pleasantries, then he escorts me over to my desk.
My very own desk! Lame, I know, but suddenly I feel very important.
Evan pulls my chair out and motions for me to sit.
"Madame,
" he says, giving me a wink. I'm pretty sure he's married, going
by the family photos on his desk, but he's still quite the flirt. He
crouches down by my chair as he shows me how to log in to the system,
and his hand rests on the arm of the chair, dangerously close to my
thigh. I can smell his aftershave, subtle but masculine, and despite
myself I feel a rush of desire. For an older man, he's undeniably
sexy. He's still talking, outlining the checklist of tasks that will
fill my days. Do all interns get their initial training from the big
boss, I wondered?
"Of
course, once you've settled in a bit, we'll be looking to involve you
in some more interesting projects. Provided you show promise,
which...I'm sure you will."
I
swear he stole a glance at my cleavage as he said it. But no, surely
not. He's just being friendly, I told myself. I tugged my blouse up a
little just in case; maybe I should have worn something with a higher
neckline.

Evan
straightens up and checks his watch.
"I'm
afraid I have to abandon you already, Iris, the head of the US branch
is in from New York and I have to take him for a breakfast meeting.
Although I'd rather chat with you, to be honest, all the man ever
talks about is bloody baseball. Now where on earth is George...he's
going to be your mentor while you're with us. Ah, right on time,
morning George."
I
look up with a sinking feeling, already knowing what awaits me. Yes,
of course, Mr Green Eyes is striding across the office towards us,
and I find myself trapped between two absolute sex gods, hoping I can
will my lips to spit out something halfway intelligent.
I
stand up awkwardly and extend my hand.
"I'm
Iris. Nice to meet you."
"George.
Welcome to the madhouse." It's phrased like a joke, but his
voice shows not a trace of humour. His hands are cool and
soft. 
"Well
then, I'll leave you in George's capable hands," Evan says 
cheerfully. "It really was ever so nice to meet you, Iris. I'm
sure you have a very bright future at this company." I find
myself blushing again as I mumble a goodbye. My guess was correct; as
Evan strides down the corridor, the rear view is every bit as tasty
as the front. And now I'm alone, with Mr Green Eyes himself. He
doesn't look too happy to be stuck with me.
"I'm
afraid I'm very busy this morning, Iris, so the tour is going to have
to wait. You're a bright girl, I'm sure you can locate the tea making
facilities without me holding your hand."
"I'm
sure I'll manage," I say, flashing him my best smile in the
hopes of softening him up a bit. Not a flicker in return.
"Let's
hope so. How fast do you type?"
"Um,
about 70 words a minute..." 
"That
will do." He plops a sheaf of hand written notes on the desk in
front of me. "If you could get these finished and emailed to me
by 3pm, that would be a huge help."
I
give a little mock salute. "No problem, sir!"
Still
no smile. Good grief. With a small sigh, I open up the word processor
and get to work.

Things
improve as the morning goes on. A few of my new co-workers pop by my
desk to introduce themselves, and one of the PA’s brings round
some home made cookies. They seem like a friendly bunch. A few times,
as my fingers clatter over the keys, I get the sensation that
somebody's watching me. But when I look up, everyone is engrossed in
their own tasks. I glance over at George, but he is talking
energetically into his blue-tooth headset, gesturing to nobody in
particular. Around 12.30, Rae sashays between the desks towards me,
waving a large stack of envelopes.
"You
got mail! Well, the company did, but you get to sort it. Lucky thing,
more exciting than most of my morning." She places the pile on
top of George's notes. "Now, do you fancy lunch?"

Before
I have a chance to protest, Rae has whirled me round the corner to a
little cafe, and ordered on my behalf.
"The
Caesar salad here is, like, to die for. Honestly. And these guys make
the best cappuccino in town, brought the machine over all the way
from Italy. I'm hooked, I have to ration myself or I'd be wired on
caffeine all day. "
I
nod, and take a sip of the creamy foam. Wow, she wasn't kidding, this
stuff is good. 
"Anyway,
sorry, I talk way too much. You might have noticed. Tell me more
about you - you just graduated, right?"
"Yeah,
I wanted to get some work experience before I went to law school. I
was really lucky to score this internship. It seems like a really
nice company."
"It's
not a bad place, better than some I've worked at. And did I hear
you're working with George? Is he not the hottest thing you've ever
seen?"
She
wiggles her eyebrows at me, and we both laugh.
"He's
pretty handsome, I'll give him that. But I don't think he likes me
much."
"Oh
ignore him, that's just George. He'll warm up eventually. He's one of
those posh, stiff upper lip types, raised by nannies and boarding
schools no doubt."
"I
hope so. Evan seems nice."
Rae
seems to falter for a second, an expression on her face that I can't
quite decipher. "Yeah, Evan's a good boss. Made his first
million by age twenty, but he likes to be quite, um, hands-on with
the company. Really clever guy."
"Bit
of a flirt though, from what I've seen..."
She
seems to relax a bit when I say that. Maybe she thought I was the
sweet, innocent type, ready to have her head turned by the man in
charge. 
"He's
charming alright. What about you, do you have a boyfriend?" She
misinterprets my wince. "Oh, or a girlfriend?"
"Um,
no, neither. Bit of a long story...college sweetheart, bad break up.
It's fine though, just...still a bit fresh..."
"Ah,
I know that feeling. Always sucks, but you know what they say, plenty
of fish in the sea!"
She lifts her
cappuccino cup and we clink, and giggle again.
I am beginning to really like Rae.

I
email my reports over to George at 2:55, but receive only a terse
'thank you' in his return email. He doesn't come over, or send any
further instructions, so I occupy myself opening and sorting the
mail. Five o'clock comes, but nobody seems to move, so I stay put. I
don't want to be the girl who rushes out of the office too early. I
need to look hard working. By 6 o'clock, I've disposed of all the
mail, read the company handbook almost cover to cover, and done a
full round of the office offering tea and my photocopying services.
I'm bored. Might as well head home. I look for George, thinking I
ought to check with him, but he's nowhere to be found. So I wrap
myself in my coat and head for the door. As I reach for the handle
the door bursts open, and George quite literally walks into me. For a
moment our bodies are pressed against each other, and despite myself
I feel my breath catch. I almost wobble over on my stupid new shoes,
and he grabs my shoulders to steady me, gripping me tight with strong
hands. 
"Sorry,
Iris, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"
I
nod, somehow lost for words while he is still touching me. Damn it, I
am such an idiot. He releases his grip and steps back, brushing the
front of his suit as if I might have contaminated him. He checks his
watch.
"Off
home. Do you have a train to catch?" I can't tell if he's angry
at me for leaving too early.
"If
that's ok, sorry, I'd finished everything and I couldn't find you.."
He waves his hand, dismissing my words. Somehow he makes me feel like
a child, and I blush for the umpteenth time that day, cursing myself
for being so awkward. 
"Not
at all, sorry, I got held up in my meeting. It's raining out, I was
going to ask if you wanted a lift to the station. "
The
offer catches me off guard. It's the friendliest thing he's said to
me all day. But the thought of enduring even those five minutes alone
with him, nervous and tongue-tied, just seems too much. 
"I've
got my umbrella. I can walk. Thank you very much, though."
He
shrugs. "If you're sure. See you tomorrow, then."
"Goodnight."