Discipline (2/?)

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A/N:  The Muse hasn't shared with me the names of the male protagonists yet, so until she informs me of what they are, you'll be treated to a lot of ______.  I apologize in advance.

I was standing in my office, arms folded, looking out of the window.  I liked listening to music while at work, as it helped me think.  John Coltrane and Duke Ellington were playing softly and I closed my eyes and moved my head minutely to the beat.  It looked like it was going to be a scorcher, and it was only ten in the morning.  I put a hand in my hair; after last night’s activity, I had to coil it up into a tasteful twist because I didn’t feel like washing it after he left.  It didn’t matter, for I still looked flawless.  There were standards to be met.  It was time for me to meet my new employee.

My intercom sounded.  It was Marx, my secretary.  “Your ten-fifteen is here.  Shall I send him in?”

“Yes.”

A moment later, I heard my door open.  I remained at the window, taking in the beautiful blue sky for another minute.  I know it was very intimidating for anyone, especially a man, to be presented with a back instead of a face during their first meeting with their new boss.  But I had a reputation that I worked extremely hard for and was very proud of.  I gave negative fucks about what people thought.

He cleared his throat.  “Miss Rothschild?”

I turned around with a smile on my face.  “So, you’re my new contract attorney?”

He was tall, very tall, and slender.  He walked towards me and extended his hand.  Nice, long fingers, square nails…not a callus to be found. There was a gold bracelet peeking from under his suit jacket.  I took his hand and gripped it while looking him dead in the eyes, which were green.  He had black hair; as black and as layered as a raven’s wings, slicked back and longer than I prefer my associates to have, but it worked for him.  Boy, did it work.  He was decked out in the finest of Alexander McQueen and he smelled great.  He looked at me and there was a smile dancing over his lips.  “_______________, at your service.”

He was British.  Sweet Gawd!  “Well hello, _________________.  I’m Iolanthe J. Rothschild.  Welcome to my firm.  I understand that you have been brought up to speed by Tyson Fairfield.”

“Iolanthe,” he said slowly, as if tasting my name…which, on a British tongue, sounded…whew!  “Iolanthe Rothschild.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.  You have quite the reputation.”

“And yet you signed the contract,” I said, smiling.  He had not let go of my hand.  It felt nice.

“How could I not?” he said.  “You made me an offer I couldn’t possibly refuse, and now that I am meeting you, I would have been a fool to do so.  Coltrane and Ellington…nice.”

“Please let go of my hand,” I said, keeping my smile in place, which wasn’t hard to do.  The man was sexy as hell.  It rolled off him in waves.

In what I consider to be an uncharacteristic move (and a serious error in judgment) for any of my associates, _________ kissed the back of my hand before releasing it.  He had soft lips.  He should have been fired on the spot.

I didn’t fire him. 

“May I call you Iolanthe?”  Lord, he sounded good.

“Not if you want to keep your job,” I said, smiling.  I couldn’t help myself.

“Well, Miss Rothschild, the staff that you’ve assigned to me is top notch.  I don’t anticipate any problems in getting started.  I don’t want to keep you, as I am eager.  There is much to be done.”

“You got that right,” I said.  "That goes without saying, which is why I didn't offer you a seat.  This is an extremely busy place, which is why I need your help.  I don’t anticipate any problems either.  But you know what to do should any arise.  Have a great day, Mr. ____________.”

Coltrane's "Equinox" came on and I smiled to myself.  Loved the intro to that song.  Apparently, Mr. _______ thought that smile was for him.

“Please,” he said, his green eyes twinkling.  “Call me __________.”

“I’m perfectly fine addressing you by your surname.”

“I insist,” he said, smiling.  He extended his hand again and I wanted to take it, but I couldn’t.  There was something at once exhilarating and mysterious about that curve in his lips. 

“I think the once was enough.”

He raised his eyebrows.  “One might think a window opened and let a cool breeze in just then.”

“One might think that,” I said, linking my fingers.  “By the way, is your office sufficient?”

“Only yours is nicer.”

I nodded.  “Have a pleasant day.”

He turned to leave and once at the door, handle in hand, he turned back to face me.  I’d sat down to check my emails when I realized he hadn’t left yet.

“Have dinner with me, Iolanthe.”

My head cocked to one side and I’m sure my mouth turned up in a smirk.  Did he just ask me out?  Had this man lost every particle of his mind?  Didn’t he know who I was?

“Mr.  _____________, did I hear you correctly?  Did you  just use my first name?  And did you just ask me out?”

“Yes.”

“You do realize that I’m your employer?  Your boss?  You do understand that I can and will fire you if I don’t think you’re worthy of being here?”

“I understand perfectly.”

“So you’ll also understand if I strongly encourage you to turn around and walk out?”

He looked at me, over me, seemingly through me.  For a very long moment, the air was still as he took me in.  I didn’t move.  I might have a smiling face and the appearance of a good nature…but the first name of this law firm is Rothschild for a plethora of reasons.  I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs.  “Should I tear up the contract, then?”

This time his voice was lower, deeper, and with the slightest hint of a sinister edge.  “By all means, no,” he said.  “I have my own reputation to protect.”

“Good.  Then I’ll forgive and forget your lapse in judgment.  Good day, sir.”

He walked out of my office, closing the door with a soft click.  I sat back in my office chair and exhaled slowly.  I needed a drink and it wasn’t anywhere close to noon.

"Hopeless"  Dionne Farris

“No Diggity”  Blackstreet
“In a Sentimental Mood” Duke Ellington & John Coltrane

“Equinox”  John Coltrane

tbc...