Read His Absolute Domination: The Billionaire's Paradigm (#5) (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (The Billionaire's Ultimatum, Book Two) for Free Online Page B

forward, nearly tripping, and sat in
the chair.
    "I have a lot of work to do," he said
softly. "I wanted to make this easier for the both of us by ending
things as I did. Do you understand that?"
    I shook my head. "No, not
really."
    He sighed and glanced at my resume
again. "Miss Tanner, I appreciate the time you put into this. It
looks intriguing and useful. I daresay, I'm pleased with your
approach towards resume crafting. I can't hire you as my personal
assistant, though. Not only do I not require someone to maintain my
personal affairs, but I especially can't request you to handle
them."
    "Why?" I asked.
    "I'm not a good person," he said. "I
thought I informed you of this in my messages. Did you listen to
them?"
    I nodded.
    "Then you should realize what I've
done and I believe a common course of action is to be frightened
and perhaps despise me. I can offer you my deepest regrets, but
otherwise I have nothing for you."
    "No," I said. "I don't hate
you."
    "You should."
    "I don't."
    "Please go home, Miss Tanner. I don't
want to make this more difficult than it is."
    Why was he doing this? I didn't
understand and it hurt, but I was here now and I wouldn't. I wasn't
going to leave.
    "I came for an appointment for an
interview," I said, hoping to sound stronger than I felt. "I'd like
you to give me an opportunity."
    He favored me with a sad smile. "I
don't have the time. I apologize."
    "I'll wait." My tongue nearly tripped
on the words, that's how fast I said them.
    "My schedule is very intensive. I have
a lot to do."
    "I don't mind waiting."
    "I doubt I can fit you in
today."
    If I left, I knew this was it. I had
nothing, no other chance, and I refused to accept that.
    "That's fine," I said. "I don't mind.
I'd prefer to wait."
    Lucent watched me. What did he see, I
wondered? What was he thinking? Sighing, he brought his hand to his
face, covering his eyes and squeezing his forehead.
    "I wish you weren't so difficult," he
said. "I wish you understood how impossible this is. If you must
continue this, you may wait, but I assure you it is highly unlikely
I'll find the time today to interview you. You may sit on my
couch."
    He pointed to the side in one swift,
fluid motion, indicating a leather couch against the far wall of
his office with a shaded lamp looming over it and a window
alongside it.
    "Thanks, Lucent," I said.
    He grumbled at me.
    "Sorry," I stammered. "Thank you, Mr.
Storme."
    "Better," he said, but he still
grumbled.
    I wanted to run up and sneak behind
his desk and kiss him on the cheek, but I thought maybe that was
office sexual harassment or something. If I wanted him to consider
hiring me, I couldn't sexually harass him during business hours. I
needed to wait until after his work day ended before hopefully
doing that.
     
    ...
     
    I waited. Lucent worked.
    I started my wait patiently, thinking
he should give up eventually and accept my resolution. I was
determined and I refused to leave and he'd notice that, wouldn't
he? Would he like it and appreciate it? That didn't really matter,
because I had no other options.
    Sitting there quietly, my hands folded
in my lap, I waited. I stared down, keeping myself from glancing at
him for fear I'd look too eager for attention, but it didn't
matter. Lucent never said anything to me.
    After maybe an hour or so, I glanced
up and saw him toiling away at some paper or other. He had a laptop
off to his side and every now and again he'd look over at it,
scroll through some things, type a bit, something or other. He
wrote some things down on paper, while others he typed onto the
computer. Back and forth, this that, scrolling, up, down, click,
tap, write, repeat.
    I watched him, curious. I didn't know
what he was doing, nor what he was working at, but I wanted to
know. I considered asking him, but then I thought better of
it.
    Still, he ignored me.
    At one point, he did look over at me,
but with no real, discernible intent. I had no idea what he was
thinking, nor did I know if he