Pleasing Him: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (17 page)

Stein grumbled as she held out her hand. “Come on, come on. I don’t have all day.”

The receptionist’s eyes glanced towards Taylor, then back at the department head. “It’s not for you, it’s… for her,” she said, shaking her head as she pointed towards Taylor herself.

Stein’s mouth opened and her jaw dropped. “For her?”

The receptionist nodded once.

“Now?” Stein asked.

The receptionist nodded again. “We got a call.”

Stein raised both brows. “A call?”

“From above.”

The department head folded her arms in front of her chest as she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Way above,” the receptionist added.

“Whatever. Just… give her the letter.”

Taylor reached for the folded piece of paper. She tried to contain her eyes from self-combusting when she saw whom the letter was from.

She hesitated before opening up the note.

The dizzying feeling in her head was an unmistakable sign…

Whatever she was about to read inside that white piece of paper was going to change the course of her life forever.

END OF BOOK FOUR

PLEASING HIM, BOOK 5: CAPTURED

Something huge was about to happen to Taylor, so huge that she’d literally forgotten about the fact that Rebecca Stein was just inches away from her, seething and delirious with a deep need to make Taylor’s life even more miserable than it already was.

There’s just way this could be happening to me
, she thought to herself as she ignored Stein altogether and looked down at the handwritten note.

“I’m sorry, but I am missing something here?” Stein hissed.

Taylor looked up at her, briefly remembering that she was still in the same room with this half-human, half-witch. “Huh? No,” she said through a breathy tone as the bitter department head looked down at her through her usual biting scowl.

“Are you sure? Because if you have something better to do right now than to beg me for your job back then by all means…” Stein’s voice trailed off as she gestured towards the door with her boney arm.

Taylor took a deep breath of air in and looked back down at the note. She had to make a decision:

If I walk out of this office right now, the chances of me ever getting another job again are somewhere between none and zero.

That said
,
staying seemed to pose even greater consequences as she studied the words on the note intended for her eyes only:
MEETING OUTSIDE YOUR OFFICE- SHOULDN’T BE HARD TO SPOT THE BLACK LIMO. JOIN AND YOU AND MARCUS STAND A CHANCE.

She did a double take at the signature on the bottom of the note- it was Mitch York’s.

As in, Mitch York of Hull Publishing.

As in, the biggest name on the planet in the book world.

As in, the one man who could either fix this mess, or somehow make it worse.

Taylor scratched the skin of her forehead and squinted her eyes. She was sweating, terrified of Stein’s reaction, but even more terrified of York’s.

She looked up at Stein whose arms were now folded in front of her chest. Taylor wanted to tell this woman who the note was from. She wanted to tell her that she had slept with Colton Marcus, and that he had just risked everything he had to save her life.

But what was the point other than to put this woman down for all of the ways she had
repeatedly used her authority to make Taylor feel small in her presence?

Taylor could feel her pulse start to speed up. Not exactly a real shocker; every time she even considered standing up for herself to someone like a Rebecca Stein her palms would start to melt and her throat would feel like it was closing up on her.

Taylor’s voice shook as she spoke. “I have a meeting,” she said, looking back down at the note in an effort to avoid Stein’s cold gaze.

The department head stood up from her desk abruptly. “Nope. Ain’t happening. You can’t walk in here and think you have any say whatsoever, especially in
your
particular shoes.”

Taylor felt a mix of fear and rage swirl though her veins as her heart started to pound hard in her chest. She stood up and made herself as tall as she could possibly make herself.

Rebecca Stein smirked and held out her hands. “Sit down,” she said, pointing to the seat that Taylor had just risen from.

Taylor pressed her lips together and matched the woman’s smirk with an equally demeaning facial expression of her own. She knew if she said what she was about to say, there would be no possible way of ever coming back to this job again.

Or any other decent job for that matter.

But she knew if she sat back down, like the good little girl she’d spent most her life trying to be, she’d regret it from here until eternity.

Taylor marched forward and held the note up to Stein’s face. “How about you stick this up your ass?”

Stein’s eyes widened as she took a step back from behind her desk. “What did you just say to me?”

“I told you I have a meeting. And I’m not sitting back down. And I’m fucking done with you treating me like I’m just some piece of shit.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Ward? You do realize that you are a convicted criminal and that I’m the only game in town, don’t you?”

Taylor smiled and shook her head once from side to side. Then she literally walked around Stein’s desk and got directly in front of her face. It was as though a life’s worth of being forced to sit in the back of bus without fighting for herself was coming to a head in this very moment. “Do your old ass eyes work well enough to see this?” Taylor asked as she held the note up to the aging woman’s face. “This note here represents my dice. And I’m gonna roll them.”

Taylor started to turn, noticing Stein’s face as it collapsed.

And as she walked out of the department chair’s office, she knew one thing for certain.

She would never,
ever
, return.

As she made her way down the stairs, across the foyer, and towards the glass exit doors, her eyes caught a long, black limousine parked directly in front of Baldpate University’s creative writing department. She opened the door to the outside and swallowed hard as the limo’s door swung open. She got the sense that if in fact Mitch York, CEO and founder of Hull Publishing, was waiting to speak with her, she was about to go from one exceedingly awful personal encounter to another.

She hesitated for a slight moment, remembering that technically speaking she had choices. She could walk right past the publishing exec’s limo, get in her car, and drive west. But if she wanted answers to the questions that were practically burning a hole in her soul, she’d have to get inside the car that awaited her.

Because her questions weren’t going to go away on their own.

Will I ever get to see Colton again? Will I ever get to feel his arms wrapped around my waist? Will I ever get to taste his lips as they come crashing into mine? Will I ever get to feel the way I felt whenever he looked at me as if I was the only person on this planet?

She bent over slightly and poked her head inside of the limo’s open door, spotting only a long pair of well-dressed legs at first.

A deep, male voice called to her. It had to be the coolest, calmest, smoothest voice she’d ever heard. “Time is money, Ms. Ward. Please come in.”

Her senses were blasted with the smell of fresh leather seats and heavy cologne as she folded her body into the car.

A man with silver hair, bronze skin, and a night black, expensive-looking suit sat with his head buried in his laptop. It was most definitely Mitch York, as in,
the
one and only Mitch York. When it came to books and publishing, Hull publishing ruled the world.

And Mitch York ruled Hull Publishing.

“Make yourself comfortable, young lady,” he said, not looking up from his computer.

So much for manners
.

“What is this about?” Taylor asked, her eyes narrowing in on the jet setting executive.

His lips cracked a subtle smile, but his eyes stayed locked on his laptop. “I’ll be with you in one…” his slightly callous voice trailed off as he closed his laptop abruptly and reached for the door of the shiny black mini fridge in front of him. “Thirsty, Taylor?” he asked as he pulled out a chilled bottle of scotch.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she muttered back, looking down at the bottle in his hands.

“Neither have I. Here,” he said, handing her an empty glass.

She reluctantly grabbed onto the glass. “What is this meeting about?” she asked.

York smiled. “This meeting?” he asked, holding up his glass that was now half-filled with alcohol. “This is about fulfilling a quench. Nothing more, nothing less.” He swirled the alcohol around in his glass. “Have you ever felt so goddamn insatiable that you had to do whatever it took to satisfy that need?” he asked as he poured some of the scotch into her glass.

She cocked her head feeling half confused, and half on edge. Where was he going with all of this? What did he want from her that he felt it was so damn necessary to force her away from her job at a moment’s notice?

She couldn’t keep it under control anymore. She threw back a swig of the bitter, brown alcohol. It was the first time alcohol had ever touched her lips at the same time that breakfast was still being served throughout the city. “Where is Colton?” she blurted out.

He studied her body, but not in a creepy guy sort of way. Nope, the way he looked at her body made her feel much worse than any creep had ever made her feel. It was as if he knew things about her that she didn’t even know about herself.

York chuckled as he sipped his drink. “Do you know how much money my company earns on a quarterly basis?”

She shook her head from side to side.

“Didn’t think so. But you know it’s a lot, right?” he said.

“Yes. I know Hull Publishing is the best in show,” she said.

His lips formed a wide, proud smile. “The best indeed,” he said as he poured more alcohol into his glass. “More?” he asked, gesturing towards her own glass.

She shook her head and pulled her glass away. “No. Like I said, I usually eat breakfast before I get liquored up.”

He let out a loud belly laugh. Then his face suddenly went numb as he drew his lips into a hard, straight line. “I’m going to be honest with you, Taylor. Is that okay with you?”

She swallowed visibly hard. “Of course, Mr. York.”

“The Colton Marcus brand is a vital component of our business. To be more precise, the revenue his books generate constitutes nearly fifty percent of our entire profit share.” The corporate exec loosened his tie and leaned towards Taylor. “In other words, I need your Marcus guy to get his ass back on track.”

A wave of heat flooded Taylor’s cheeks and trickled down her neck. She didn’t like being this close to a man who could literally obliterate her from the face of the earth by making a simple phone call to the right person.

“
My
Marcus guy?” she said.

He frowned, making it perfectly damn clear that he knew she was bullshitting him right now.

She cleared her throat and adjusted her posture, sitting as tall as she possibly could in the back of his limo.

Take two.

“With all due respect, sir, can you please tell me why you sent for me?”

He leaned back in his warm leather seat and dipped the tip of his finger in his glass. “It’s simple, Ms. Ward. I know two things. I know that Marcus can help my company sell more books than any other author on this planet. And,” he paused as he sucked the expensive booze off the tip of his finger, “I know that he’s a sinking ship right now, and you seem to be the only one who can keep him from going under.”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Sir?”

He smiled, but it was the type of grin that Taylor had learned to mistrust through her years of hard living. “Your boy Colton has gotten himself in a huge,
huge
legal mess. No matter how it gets spun from some lawyer, he’s facing manslaughter charges even if he
did
save your life.”

“Twice,” she interjected.

“Excuse me?”

“Twice. That sick pig of a man tried to hurt me twice. And Colton managed to save me from him twice so… twice.”

The publishing exec tilted his head slightly back. “Right, well I have no doubt that fate has brought you two together. Now the only question is, can you two
stay
together?”

Desperation flooded her voice. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I can testify. I saw the whole thing. I know he did the only thing he could and-“

York interrupted as he cupped her knee with his rough, weathered hand. She froze, but not because he had the gall to put his hand on her knee; in fact, his touch felt somehow more paternal than inappropriate. But still, his touch was a clear reminder…

This was his limo and he called the shots. Throwing a pity party wasn’t going to do her any good right now.

“I’m gonna give it to you straight, Taylor.” He placed his empty glass on the shiny mahogany shelf that protruded from the limo’s seat. “I know about your mother’s suicide. And I know about your larceny charges. And…” he paused as he studied her reaction. His eyes narrowed, and he appeared as though he almost felt sorry for her.

She was numb, perfectly motionless. Frozen, to be exact. And she was sure she had just acquired permanent nerve damage in multiple sections of her body.

Her worst nightmare appeared to be coming true, right here in the back of Mitch York's limousine.

She’d never been confronted about her mother’s death since the day it happened. Sure, the Department of Social Services and her high school guidance counselors tried to intervene and mandate services for her since technically she was still a year away from being an adult. But she never made it to an outside counselor. And her father had no chance in hell of making her go. He never protected her before, what made her think he had any right in trying then?

She wasn’t ready to look at what happened, at the fact that she’d felt completely responsible for her mom’s suicide.

But she didn’t seem to have much of a choice as York’s deadpan expression awaited a response of some sort.