Choosing Her Lover

Chapter 10

*****

The first day at my new job, and…. it’s just great.

I spend an hour with the HR department being taken through the usual form filling and pep-talk stuff, then am assigned to my Supervisor, Mrs Gillis. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

She’s middle-aged and hugely fat, sweet but efficient, and quickly talks me through my duties; how the intercom and phone systems work, where to send the various and huge number of visitors and deliveries to the building, where visitors sign in, emergency numbers for Security, Medical Staff and other essential services. It is driven home to me that I am working for a huge organisation.

“I’m only in the back office through there, Dear,” she says, waving towards a door to the rear. If you have any problems, just give me a shout.”

Then she potters off, leaving with my new post, my new duties.

I have a desk centred in the large, glass-fronted lobby of the Haswell Offices, and it is my job to ensure the smooth flow of visitors in and out of the building, assign deliveries to their correct destination and generally be a good ‘face’ for the company I represent.

And for most practical purposes, once I know fully what I am doing, I will be very much my own boss.

Perfect!

Sitting behind my desk I can indulge in one of my favourite past-times, people-watching. A steady stream of visitors enters and exits; needing guidance, entry, sometimes name badges or phone calls to check appointments. I am helped by the fact that the system already runs like clockwork and I simply have to facilitate matters. So, I do my work easily, giving visitors a smiling face and a good impression as they arrive.

I love this job.

The elevator doors swoosh open, and a man steps out into the lobby. He glances briefly around and then walks to the outer doors, glancing at his watch. Then he simply stands, waiting for something.

He’s tall and leanly built, dark-haired and dark-eyed, and he carries himself well, walking very upright, although with a slight limp. He wears a business suit, expensive but not flashy; classically cut, it hangs well on his long frame.

There is something about him that seems familiar….

He stands with a touch of arrogance to his manner. Everything about his stance puts him in charge of the situation, one of Life’s natural Doms….

….. He definitely looks familiar somehow. I know him from somewhere…. But where….?

Oh, God. I do know you….

It was what, two, maybe three years ago….

Is he a visitor to the building?

No, he’s not wearing any badge, and besides, the authority he radiates clearly bespeaks someone who belongs here.

His gaze passes over me, away, and then hovers back for a second before he looks away once more. Clearly, he also thinks that we know each other and he’s trying to remember from where….

Inside, I cringe….

Then he gives a small satisfied nod and I see him sucking in a smile. Looking back across at me, he moves closer, still walking with that slight limp.

“We do know each other, don’t we? It’s Debbie, isn’t it?”

You didn’t have that limp when I last met you….

“Er…” I tap my name badge, a hot flush rising up my neck. “Kirstie, actually.”

His mouth twitches. “Ah yes, Kirstie. Of course. I’ll remember that. Are you new here? I don’t recall seeing you on the desk before.”

“Yes, I just started. I’m still learning the ropes… Er…. Are you waiting for someone, um… Sir? Can I get you a coffee while you wait?”

“No, I have an appointment. But thank you for asking. Are you enjoying the job?”

“Oh, yes. It’s great. Much better than what I was doing before.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. Well, good luck with it.”

He lapses into silence, and we share one of those awkward pauses of near-strangers who don’t really have anything to say to each other.

I try, surreptitiously, to decide the status of this previously encountered Dom. He’s wearing a ring on his left hand.

You didn’t have that either when last we met.

“I’ve um…. I’ve not seen you and your friend…. out and about…. recently. The blond guy; is he alright?” I say.

Now, he’s definitely hiding a smile. “Yes, he’s fine. He got married recently.”

“Ah…. Shame….”

You blistered my ass that evening….

His voice is low and silky, sheer honeyed masculinity, and I remember why I let this man slap my butt ‘til it glowed….

“I’m sure there’s many who will think so.” he purrs.

“And…um…. you?”

Would he be interested again?

He tilts his head, his dark eyes creasing at the corners. “No, I’ve not been…. out and about…. much recently either. I…. also married.” He’s not smiling, but the corners of his eyes betray his thoughts.

“Oh…. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

He checks his watch again, and suddenly, he is all authority. “Kirstie, could you send a message upstairs please, to Mrs Summerford on extension 4528. Tell her that I can’t wait and she’ll have to get her husband to pick her up.”

“Of course, Mr….”

He holds out his hand to shake. “Alexanders…. James Alexanders, since we weren’t formally introduced when we met previously.”

Trying to maintain my dignity, I stand to shake the hand. His grip is firm and warm around my fingers, but strictly business-like.

How can I be dignified with someone who’s seen me naked, and slapped my ass ‘til it lit up the room?

“Nice to meet you, Mr Alexanders. I’ll see your message gets to where it’s going.”

“Thank you, Kirstie.” He turns and leaves.

I swallow hard, embarrassed at my own reaction to the man. He and his blond friend gave me a helluva a ride that evening, but it hurt to sit for most of the following week.

*****

A car parks up right outside the doors and a man I do not recognise gets out and enters the lobby.

“Excuse me,” I say. “I’m sorry, but you can’t park there.”

He turns, wearing a surprised expression. “I think you’ll find I can.” He looks me over. “You’re new, right?”

“Yes, I’ve only been here a few days.”

He smiles, walks over, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Ross. I’m Mr Haswell’s driver.”

I take his hand “I’m Kirstie. Nice to meet you, Ross. Mr Haswell? You mean the Mr Haswell?”

“Yes, the Mr Haswell. So yes, I can park at the front. He owns this building and that’s his parking space.”

I feel foolish. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to offend.”

He shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about it. You’re still learning the job.”

The lift doors swish open and out steps James Alexanders. He nods politely to me and, “Good morning, Ross. Are you well?”

“I am Mr Alexanders. And you?”

“Yes, I’m very good, thank you.” And he leaves the building.

I nod towards him as he exits. “Ross, who is he?”

“That is James Alexanders. He’s Richard Haswell’s co-director.”

“Co-director? You mean, he’s one of the bosses? He seems a bit…. scary.”

Ross sucks in his cheeks, nodding. “Yeah, I know what you mean. He’s a decent guy, but you do always have the feeling that if you upset him, he’s snap you in two. I wouldn’t get on the wrong side of him if I were you.”