Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) Page 5

  Just another thing I would feel guilty about, I was sure.

  My first instinct was to apologize, but I’d already done so numerous times, ever since Ransom put me on high alert with his warnings of impending doom. It wasn’t going to help me now and I knew it, so I figured why bother.

  “I’m sure I don’t need to fill you in on my reasons for asking you in here,” Jack said calmly, his voice at odds with the way his hands were clenched on the top of his desk.

  “No, sir.” I definitely knew.

  Come on, Jack. Just rip the Band-aid off. Best way to do it.

  Having a flair for the dramatic, Jack exhaled heavily and leaned back in his chair. “Braelyn, I hate to have to do this, but”—another crestfallen sigh—“we’re terminating your employment.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  His brown eyes narrowed. “No arguments?”

  “Of course not. You warned me the last time.” And the time before that. And the one before that. So on and so forth. This man had been kind to me. He’d given me a job, fresh out of college with absolutely no experience, and he’d overlooked a good portion of my personal issues. I didn’t hold it against him.

  Jack sat up, tapped a key on his computer—probably telling HR the deed was done—then turned his attention back to me. “Look, Braelyn. You know if it was up to me—”

  Before he could finish that sentence, my cell phone rang. I couldn’t stop the flush to my cheeks, warmed from my embarrassment. The last thing I’d expected was to get a phone call while my boss was kicking me to the curb.

  However, because of the things currently going on in my life, it wasn’t like I could ignore it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, turning my phone over in my hand and glancing at the screen.

  I didn’t recognize the number, but that didn’t mean much these days.

  Without bothering to apologize again, I hit the button to take the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Bishop?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name’s Tiegan Shaw. I’m calling on behalf of Owned, Incorporated.”

  I didn’t recognize the woman or the company, but I waited anyway.

  “It’s our understanding you’re seeking employment.”

  My eyebrows rose as my eyes settled on Jack’s round, fatherly face. How in the world did this woman know that?

  Tiegan continued. “I’d like to offer you a position. Competitive salary and benefits, of course.”

  Okay, so now I felt as though I was being punked. What were the odds I would get this call at the same time I was being fired?

  “If you’re interested, I’d very much like to have a face-to-face.” There was a brief pause. “What do you say we meet for lunch? Eleven o’clock. At Brax’s. Do you know where it is?”

  “I … yes, I know where it is.”

  Clearly she’d taken my confirmation as agreement, because after a quick, “I’ll see you then,” the call disconnected.

  “Is everything all right?” Jack asked when I set my phone on my lap once more.

  “I don’t know,” I said, still stunned.

  “Look, Braelyn. You know if—”

  Because it was obvious he was going to launch right into the speech he’d memorized to let me down easy, I decided to put him out of his misery.

  “Thanks, Jack.” I got to my feet. “No need to placate me. I get it. I really do.” I shot him a smile. “Thanks for putting up with me for this long. I know it hasn’t been easy. But…” I glanced at my watch, realized it was already ten thirty and if I had any hope of making it downtown in time to meet Tiegan Shaw, I had to go now. “I’ll just grab my things.”

  On the way back to my desk, I pulled up my Uber app, requested a car. No way did I have time to wait for Ransom to get here. Nor could I tell my brother I was on my way to meet a stranger. He would go apeshit.

  Now to get my things.

  Not that I had much in my desk. Probably had to do with the fact I’d been anticipating this day. Due to my inability to put in a full week of work for the past few months consistently, I was surprised they’d kept me on this long. But sometimes personal things couldn’t be helped.

  “Braelyn!”

  I didn’t bother turning back as Jack continued to call my name. Instead, I made a beeline for my cubicle, grabbed my purse from the bottom drawer, took the small metal statue I kept on my desk—a silver tiger my brother had bought for one of my birthdays—tucked it inside, then headed for the doors. As I walked, I stashed my phone in my purse and held my head high.

  No reason to let them think this bothered me in the least.

  I figured Jack had expected me to grovel a little, to beg and plead for them to keep me on. It was possible he would’ve caved, gone to bat for me once more, convincing the higher-ups I wasn’t always such a pain in the ass. Admittedly, I’d considered it numerous times over the past few weeks. Begging. What I would say, how I would say it. It wasn’t like I could afford to go without employment for even a minute. Paying the bills and keeping a roof over my head were kind of a big deal to me.

  At the same time, I’d grown to hate this place. I knew everyone was talking behind my back, making accusations, wondering why I was getting special treatment although I wasn’t. And since I couldn’t very well come out and tell my boss that I was desperately trying to stay off the radar because my estranged parents and their psycho lackey were trying to track me and my brother down so they could kill us, this was inevitable.

  Now I could only hope that whatever offer Tiegan Shaw was going to make would be worth my while. Otherwise…

  Well, I didn’t want to think about that right now.

  For the first time in quite some time, luck seemed to be on my side. Thanks to a competent Uber driver, I was able to make it downtown in record time, walking into Brax’s with a couple of minutes to spare. The elegant restaurant with its gleaming dark wood and white linens was welcoming, as was the pretty hostess who greeted me with a warm smile. When I mentioned Tiegan’s name, that smile seemed to brighten all the more.

  “Right this way, Miss Bishop.”

  I followed her as she led the way through the restaurant, noticing most of the tables were full even this early on a Thursday. Then again, I’d heard good things about this place, most of which had come from my brother. Brax’s was owned by world-renowned chef Braxton McBride, who happened to be one of two submissives Zeke Lautner had claimed as his own. And while I didn’t spend a lot of time with Zeke, he was the only friend of Ransom’s who actually knew of my existence. I wasn’t sure exactly how long Brax’s had been open, but I knew it had been making the rounds in the culinary circuit as the best steakhouse in Chicago.

  As I approached a table near the window, a striking woman got to her feet, smiling. And holy heavens, was she striking. From her wine-red hair to her nearly perfect bone structure, highlighted by meticulously applied makeup on her flawless skin. Her lips were full, painted a matte maroon/purple, the same color as her hair, her glittering green eyes matching the button-down blouse she wore.

  No way to deny I was a bit intimidated by her. Who wouldn’t be?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bishop,” Tiegan said, her words spoken with a conciseness that seemed at odds with her beauty. There was no accent, no drawl or twang, nothing obscuring the perfect cadence of her voice.

  When Tiegan held out her hand in greeting, I shook it, not at all surprised by the firm grip. Definitely no floppy wrist for this woman. She oozed sex appeal and dominance in a way that I was familiar with thanks to my brother. Traits I had no hope of mastering, even if I’d had the desire to try.

  “Please, have a seat.” Tiegan motioned toward the chair across from her.

  While I got situated, Tiegan rattled off a wine order and requested the waitress give us a few minutes to make our meal selection.

  It didn’t surprise me that the waitress didn’t ask me if there was something I preferred. Tiegan had taken
control, and unless I spoke up, that was how this lunch meeting would continue, I figured. Something else I was familiar with thanks to my brother. It didn’t bother me. Not in the least. My naturally submissive side sought someone who would make those decisions for me. Even if it was a woman who would likely become my boss.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” I prompted, attempting to relax a little, “how do you know me?”

  “Through an acquaintance of your brother.”

  Well, that told me nothing at all. My brother had a lot of acquaintances.

  “How did you know I was seeking employment?” That definitely wasn’t something she could’ve learned from any acquaintance because it hadn’t been fact until moments before Tiegan had called me.

  “I keep my ear to the ground.” Her plump lips drew back, bright white teeth flashing. “And when there’s something the boss wants, I make sure I’m prepared to acquire it.”

  “You’re not the boss?”

  Those green eyes glittered all the more. “Depends on who you ask. But no, I do not own the company.”

  “You said you work for Owned, Incorporated?”

  “Yes. I’m going to assume you haven’t heard of it.”

  “No.” I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

  A sommelier appeared, pouring wine while we continued to talk.

  “I would’ve been surprised if you had,” Tiegan said.

  “Why’s that?”

  Without being prompted, Tiegan performed all those fancy tricks wine connoisseurs did when preparing to drink—swish, swirl, study—then took a sip and considered it a moment. When she finally nodded toward the man awaiting her approval, he filled both glasses, offered a smile, and left us alone again.

  “Let’s just say we cater to a specific clientele.”

  “What is it that you do?”

  Tiegan waved a manicured hand. “All in due time, Miss Bishop.”

  I took a sip of wine—it was dry and a little bitter—as I attempted to gather my thoughts. Tiegan didn’t rush me, simply remained calm and cool, waiting for me to make the next move while I did the same.

  Clearly she wasn’t going to cave, so I did because I was confused as to how I might fit into whatever role she had slated for me.

  “If you’re not going to enlighten me, what is it you want me to do for your company?”

  “We have several positions open, including one dealing with web and app coding.”

  Well, she knew what I did, at least.

  The waitress appeared, setting down two glasses of ice water and retrieving her notepad.

  “Do you know what you’re having?” Tiegan asked, her shoulders squared, her keen gaze raking over me.

  My eyes lowered as I opened the fancy leather-bound menu and quickly scanned it. While I did, Tiegan rattled off her order. When she was finished, I hadn’t yet made up my mind, so I opted to have a salad. Simple, easy.

  “May I ask how you heard about my … uh … professional skills?” I asked when the waitress left us.

  “Like I said, I travel in the same circles as your brother,” Tiegan answered.

  Yes, those were alarm bells beginning to ring in my head.

  “So Ransom told you about me?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes.”

  Although I had decided long ago I wouldn’t look for trouble around every corner, I couldn’t deny when someone made me wary. And this woman fit the bill, especially after that admission.

  “Ransom doesn’t tell anyone about me,” I stated, keeping my voice low and even.

  Tiegan didn’t seem fazed by my statement. “I’m well aware of that, Miss Bishop. And until today, I was unaware of your existence.”

  Sitting up straight, I realized I was going to have to show some backbone or this woman was going to talk in circles for the rest of our meal. As much as I appreciated her inviting me here, making an offer at the most opportune time, I needed to know some specifics.

  “I don’t want to waste your time or mine, Miss Shaw,” I said softly. “But if I’m to entertain a job offer, I really do need some details.”

  At that moment, my phone buzzed.

  I glanced over to where it sat on the table. The screen lit up with an incoming text message. It was from a blocked number and there were no words. Only numbers.

  “That’s the first detail. Your starting salary,” Tiegan noted. “Go ahead, take a look.”

  I picked up my phone, pulled up the text, and stared at it, almost certain my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was pretty sure there was one too many numbers in front of that decimal point.

  I frowned, glancing back at Tiegan. A dozen questions hung precariously on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t know which one to ask first.

  “As always,” Tiegan said with a smile, “it’s negotiable, but we believe it’s fair.”

  Fair? That was an understatement. I didn’t make a third of that in my current … er … my previous job.

  “The rest I’ll provide at the interview,” Tiegan said.

  “Interview?” I was sincerely confused. I thought she’d offered me the job.

  “Unless you’re opposed to it,” Tiegan added.

  Was I? I honestly did not know.

  I found myself saying, “No. No, of course not.” I needed a job and this was a prospect I couldn’t turn down.

  “How does tomorrow evening sound? It’s a bit untraditional, but I think you’ll do fine.”

  Untraditional? What did that mean?

  I didn’t bother to ask. Something told me Tiegan Shaw wasn’t going to be forthcoming with details.

  Tiegan’s head tilted slightly. “Is this something you believe you’re interested in, Miss Bishop?”

  Since I didn’t have anything on my agenda for the foreseeable future, aside from a job hunt, it wasn’t like I could very well tell her I wasn’t available, so I answered with, “Of course. Yes.”

  Tiegan smiled. “Good. The private jet will be waiting for you at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  I was pretty sure my breath lodged somewhere in my sternum but I managed to squeak out, “Private jet?”

  Tiegan’s smile flashed brilliantly. “Trust me, if you’re impressed by that, Miss Bishop, you’re in for a serious treat.”

  FOUR

  Braelyn

  Evening rolled around, and while everyone was getting ready to ring in the new year with friends and family, I was at home. Alone.

  Not that I minded much. Dressed in my most comfy attire—baggy sweats, an oversized, long-sleeve T-shirt, and thick wool socks—I was in the one place I felt I could relax, breathe, and not worry someone might be watching me.

  I was standing in my kitchen, my laptop open on the counter, a recently made ham and cheese on rye sitting on a paper plate beside it. It was my attempt at dinner, although I wasn’t really hungry, my attention torn between my body’s need for sustenance and my overwhelming desire to find out more about Owned, Incorporated.

  I had to admit, I had much better luck satisfying the former than the latter.

  Just when I paused my internet search in favor of getting a Sprite from the refrigerator, my phone rang. After snagging a can from the top shelf and tapping the door shut with my foot, I grabbed my cell and hit the button to take my brother’s call, smiling as I did.

  “Hey. I thought you were coming over,” I said, glancing at the clock. “Like two hours ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Brae. I’ve got a couple of things to take care of.”

  He sounded strange, and that was saying something, because for the past year, my brother hadn’t been himself. And his paranoia seemed to be intensifying lately. He was far too preoccupied and likely believing he was covering it well. For the record, he was not.

  Pretending not to notice, I went for casual. “Should I remind you that you had things to take care of the last time you promised to stop by?”

  “I know. I’m the world’s worst brother. The award’s sitting on my mantel
, a glaring reminder.”

  The thought made me laugh. “Careful or you’ll be getting a real one.”

  “No doubt I deserve it.”

  He certainly did not, but there was no telling my brother that. He was the only person in the world who had never let me down.

  Although I was disappointed I wouldn’t get to spend time with Ransom that didn’t involve a tense car ride to and from or a very uncomfortable Christmas dinner—just the two of us sitting in his cold, lonely house—I was glad to hear amusement in his voice, even if it did sound a bit strained.

  I popped the top on my Sprite, poured it into the glass of ice I’d prepared. “All right. So what’re your big plans for New Year’s?”

  “Well, for one, I’ve got to pick up my costume for the party, then go to said party.”

  “TJ’s party,” I said giddily, propping my hip on the counter in my small kitchen.

  “Yep,” he said easily. “One of his many shindigs.”

  My brother knew I was a huge fan of TJ Arlington. I had devoured every single one of his books and usually waited with bated breath for the next. Because my brother had an in with the famous author, I happened to have a signed copy of every single one.

  “Is there a theme to this one?” I inquired.

  “Black and White Ball.”

  “Ooh. That sounds fun. By costume, I assume you’re referring to a tux?”

  “I am.”

  “What about a date?”

  “Not this year.” There was some rustling on his end of the line. “You should come with me.”

  With my glass halfway to my mouth, I paused, frowned. Ransom had never—not one single time—invited me to anything that would involve the people he associated with. Why would he start now?

  “I’m kidding,” Ransom said quickly, chuckling.

  Setting my glass down, I exhaled my relief. “Thank God. I have absolutely no desire to dress up, even if it’s glam, for some fetish party.”