The Billionaire's Ultimatum: His Absolute Need (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novel) (Book One) (28 page)

I gritted my
teeth.  How much of a bitch could someone really be?

"Ah, you
have to go.  Yes, I understand.  No, thank you.  That was amazing.  You always
know how to put me in a good mood.  You do have it, right?  Yes.  Soon. 
Please.  I can't stand this.  I want to be done with Asher and move on.  Don't
just keep it on your desk out in the open.  I don't want you to get caught by
something stupid like that."

No, no,
something, explanations on Solomon's end.

"If you're
going to keep it under the lamp, make sure your idiot assistant doesn't go
cleaning around there.  Not that she's useful in the first place, I'm sure. 
That's a strange place, but as long as it's not noticeable, I'm fine with
it."

The lamp. 
Solomon's office.  I remembered it quite clearly from the time I'd visited.  He
didn't have much in his office.  Mostly a desk, a table to the side with books
stacked on it, his couch, a mirror behind that, and a floor lamp next to it. 
The floor lamp was the kind with a conical base.  Presumably hollow in the
middle, where he could lift it up and place whatever they were talking about
underneath it.

This, I thought,
was it.  My in.  Except how was I supposed to get into Solomon's office, let
alone find whatever it was he wanted kept hidden?

"No
way," Jeremy said.  "No fucking way.  Are you serious?  Is this real
life or what the fuck?"

Jeremy was so
completely stunned after I told him what I did and what happened.  I could
somewhat understand, since it was a shock to me, too, but he was treating the
information in a far more excited way than me.  Maybe it lost some of its
lustre since I'd lived through it.

"Alright,
hold on.  So Beatrice gets off on hearing about Solomon screwing his
assistant.  This is great.  All we have to do is tell Asher, and then you and
him can have sex all you want and it'll save his marriage with Beatrice.  He
can tell her stories about you two going at it and they'll fall in love all
over again."

"Are you
being serious?" I asked him.  Hands on my hips, glaring at him, and all he
did was laugh.

"Not in the
least.  I can't even believe that happened.  Even if I was in the room
listening to it, I don't think I could believe it."

"It was
kind of strange," I said.

"Strange
isn't a strong enough word for it," he said.  "It's so ridiculous
that I'll believe you.  I don't like to take things like this on faith, but
I'll do it this one time.  Just for you."  He pinched my cheek.

I slapped his
hand away, laughing.  "It's not funny!"

"It's
pretty funny," he said.  "Mostly hilarious."

"Anyways,
so, once you're done laughing at my expense, I think this is good, since now we
know something."

"Yeah. 
Right.  That whatever-it-is that he's hiding under his lamp.  Except I don't
see how that helps us.  What are you going to do?  Tell Asher that Solomon's
hiding some mystery object under his lamp?"

I rolled my
eyes.  "No, we have to go get it."

"I don't
see how we're getting into Solomon's office."

"I'll
go," I said.  "I've been there before.  I'll dress like I'm an office
assistant again and make some excuse to go in there when he's gone.  It'll be
fast.  In and out and then I'll meet up with you and we can go from
there."

"You think
that's a good idea?  Solomon's just going to toss you on his couch again and
have his way with you, then Beatrice is going to get the full story later.  Do
you really want to be involved in that?"  Jeremy barely kept his smile
hidden away, and after half a moment of feigned stoicism he burst into laughter.

"Look, it's
a good plan," I said, glaring at him.

"Sure.  I
guess it's as good as any.  I doubt it'll work, but I'm in.  I have to pick
Asher up later anyways, so we can go then."

"Good. 
This is good.  I think everything's going to work out well," I said.

I had no idea
what I was getting myself into.

I dressed in a
nice black skirt and semi-formal, wisteria blouse.  Jeremy looked me over
before we left and nodded his approval.

"Nice,"
he said.  "Classy."

"Thanks,"
I said.  "The heels aren't too much?"

I walked around
a bit to show him.  They were nice shoes, but I thought maybe they were too
tall for typical office use.  I vaguely thought of smaller pumps when I
pictured secretaries, but I really liked the way these went with the rest of
the ensemble.

Jeremy
shrugged.  "How should I know?  I'm no fashion expert."

"Well, I
think they're good, so I'll keep them.  I won't actually be doing any work, so
I don't think it matters, anyways."

"You're the
boss."

And then we
left.  But not before I convinced Jeremy to share the piece of cheesecake with
me that we brought home from The Cheesecake Factory last night.

"I need
something to calm myself down.  I'm so nervous."

The drive was
quiet and uneventful.  I went over the plan in my head.  Up the elevator, down
the hall, knock on the door.  Wait.  If Solomon was there, I would make up some
reason for being there.  Joel Newgood needed the weekly reports if they were
finished.  I knew Joel Newgood in passing from when I'd helped Solomon last
time, so this was a good excuse.  I assumed "weekly reports" would
mean something to Solomon Royce, even if I had no idea what they were.  I could
play dumb in those regards.

If Solomon
wasn't there, but his usual assistant Daphne was, I'd tell her someone was
looking for her.  Joel Newgood maybe, or someone else.  Who knew?  I'd make
that one up as I went, since I thought I could lie to her easier without a
cover story.

And if no one
was there, I'd just go in, find what I needed, and leave.  That plan was the
easiest.

I thought over
the plans, over and over and over again, perfecting them in my mind.  If this,
then that.  Nothing to it.  Everything would go well.

We arrived in
the parking garage and when I went to step out of the car, Jeremy grabbed my
arm and stopped me.

"Hold
on," he said.  "I'm not sure how I feel about this, so let's come up
with a back up plan."

"Sure,"
I said.  "Like what?"

"If you get
caught or something.  How long do you think it'll take you to get in and
out?"

I tracked it all
in my mind, coming up with decent estimates.  "About five minutes to get
up there, depending on the elevator and if he answers the door.  Then maybe
five or ten minutes inside?  If no one's there, it won't take long, but if I
have to make some excuse for why I'm there it'll take a little more time."

"Let's say
twenty minutes, then?  If you aren't back here in twenty minutes, I'll figure
something out and come get you."

I laughed. 
"So you're just going to walk right up and go to Solomon Royce's office? 
That'll defeat the entire purpose of the plan.  He'll know there's something
wrong then."

Jeremy gave me a
hard look.  "It doesn't matter, Jessika.  If something happens to you,
Asher's going to blame me for it.  I know this was your plan, but we're doing
this together, so let's make sure nothing bad happens, alright?"

I huffed. 
"Fine.  If you say so.  Nothing's going to go wrong, anyways."

Jeremy didn't
know what happened last time, though.  I'd told him about the phone
conversation between Beatrice and Solomon today, but he didn't know the
actuality of the situation.  He didn't know I'd fallen on the couch and Solomon
had walked over, started acting like he was ready and willing to take me right
then and there, with or without my consent.  I never told him any of that, and
I didn't want to tell him it now.  If I did, would he let me do this?  Probably
not.

So, instead, I
reassured him with a pat on his hand and a careful nod.  "It's
alright," I said before I left the car.  "Don't worry about
anything."  I closed the door and left him in the parking garage.

My heels clicked
across the concrete and I made my way through the dimly lit area to the ground
floor elevator.  No one else was nearby and the parking garage looked oddly
empty.  It was just my nerves trying to make up something ominous, I told
myself.  I pressed the button for the elevator and waited.

I felt calm and
relaxed, but my hands kept shaking.  Almost jittery, like I'd drank too much
coffee and was suffering for it.  When the elevator came, dinging its arrival,
I stumbled inside and braced myself against the back wall.  No one else was
here with me.  The doors closed, but without directions on where to go, the
elevator stayed put.

I finally hit
the button for the floor I wanted.  Leaning against the wall, I watched the
numbers pass by above the door as I rose past floor after floor.  It was late,
but not too late, so apparently no one was using the elevators right now; not
time to go home, but every time sensitive issue involving walking through the
office had already been dealt with.

The elevator
chimed my arrival and the doors slid open.  No one was coming in, so I scurried
out and into the open hallway.  Nothing.  Strange?  This didn't seem right, but
I blamed it on my anxiety more than anything else.  Just an excuse, Jessika, I
told myself.  Why are you making excuses?  Go and do this and be done with it.

I hurried down
the hallway, nearly tripping on the carpets.  To Solomon's office, fast,
quicker, my heels thudding against the carpeted floor in frenzied strikes.  Once
I arrived, I nearly opened the door without thinking.

"Calm
down!" I hissed to myself.  Then I knocked on the door to Solomon Royce's
office.

Nothing.  No
one.  I waited and knocked again, but no one answered.  When I knocked a third
time with still no answer, I decided it was safe.  Twisting the knob to his
office, hoping beyond hope he hadn't locked the door before he left, I winced
and expected the worst.

The door opened
easily enough.  I pushed inwards and stepped inside.  The light in the corner,
the one I needed to look under, lit up the room.  No one was inside though,
nothing unusual.  I scampered in, closed the door behind me, and breathed a
sigh of relief.

Well, that was
easy.  What was I worried about?  And, anyways, it wasn't like something could
happen.  I knew this, but I'd gotten myself worked up and nervous anyways. 
What would Solomon do?  I'd warded off his advances before, so I could do it
again.  And his usual assistant, Daphne?  I had no idea who she was, but I
doubted she'd be an issue.

With all that
settled, no longer panicking, I hurried to the lamp.  When I went to lift it up
and steal whatever lay beneath it, it wouldn't budge.  I pulled harder, yanking
on the thing, but no.  Checking carefully, I noticed it was bolted into the floor. 
Nothing too high tech, just screws, but who did that?  I didn't have a
screwdriver, either.

Solomon must
have one, in his desk or something.  How else would he fit something under the
lamp?  Maybe he wanted to just leave it there, but I doubted it.  Rushing to
his desk, I opened the drawers and rifled through his belongings.  It didn't
take long to find a tiny screwdriver, so my hunch must have been right.

And then I went
to do what needed to be done.  Unscrewing the screws, I left them on the side
of the carpet and then lifted up the base of the lamp.  Hidden beneath it I
found a small USB flash drive.  I grabbed it, tossed it into the front pocket
of my shirt, and started screwing the base of the lamp back into the floor.

Before I
finished, I heard someone at the door.  Argh!  Could I not get a break?  Oh
well, it didn't matter.  I swept the rest of the screws, along with the
screwdriver, under the couch and got up.  Whomever it was, I'd just run right
past them, make up some excuse, apologize for being here because I must have
had the wrong room, then leave.

That all mostly
went according to plans, except when Solomon entered his own office.  Before I
could hurry past him, apologizing for intruding and telling him my excuse, he
grabbed my forearm and pulled me back in.  Closing the door behind him, he
pushed the button on the knob to lock it, then hauled me to his couch.

"You,
again," he said, smiling.  "To what do I owe this wonderful
surprise?"

I murmured my
answer, the words coming out in a garbled mess of nonsense.

"What?"
he asked.  "Speak up.  Calm down."

I repeated
myself.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Royce.  I must have had the wrong room."

"What were
you looking for?" he asked.

"The weekly
reports," I muttered.  "Joel Newgood asked me to get them for
him."

"Did
he?"

"Yes.  I
thought he said they'd be on your desk, and since you weren't here I figured it
wouldn't be any trouble if I just grabbed them, but..."

"Joel
Newgood went on vacation yesterday," Solomon said.  "He won't be back
for two weeks."

I stared at
Solomon blankly.  Was he serious, or trying to catch me in a lie?  The look on
his face seemed deadly serious, but I really had no way to tell.  Either way, I
didn't belong here.  I could deny it, continue on with my false excuse, and dig
myself deeper, or...

Or what?  I had
no other options.

"I've been
thinking about you," Solomon said.  "The other day, on the couch.  Do
you remember, Jessika?"

I gulped and
nodded.  "Yes, sir."

He squeezed my
arm in his fingers, leaving thin red marks, then threw me onto the couch. 
"I'd like to re-enact that little scene, if you don't mind.  I wasn't
entirely satisfied with your work performance then, and I think you owe me
something."

I stammered. 
"I-I, no, it's... I don't feel comfortable with that."

"Why are
you really here?" he asked.

"I was
trying to do my job," I said, sticking with some general excuse.  Joel
Newgood or not, I still looked like I worked here.