What Money Can Buy by Katie Cramer

ONE
     
    H e had a reputation as a complete bastard.
    A gorgeous, rich, powerful bastard. But a bastard nonetheless.
    I had been working at King Enterprises for just under four months now and I had lasted longer than anyone else I had known. The place had a horrific reputation at my agency; girls had literally left in tears and quit temping the very next day, horrified at the thought of having a similar experience elsewhere.
    The problem was Jason King. He was everything you would expect a billionaire CEO to be - handsome, smart and dazzlingly charismatic. He was also demanding, difficult and had an unflinching need for perfection.
    In short, he was a nightmare to work for.
    “ Lauren ! ” my supervisor shouted from down the hall. “Mr King want s to see you in his office, now! ”
    I froze. What the hell had I done? I had barely seen him in the time I’d been here, give or take a few sideways glances and the odd polite “hello” in passing.
    I nervously took the elevator up to his 15th floor office. As I walked down the hallway towards his large oak door, my high heels sank half an inch into the plush carpeting outside.
    I tapped on the door gently. "Enter," a voice barked. I took a deep breath. Calm down, Lauren . It' s going to be fine. Everything’ s going to be all right.
    I knew what was coming. I had heard the horror stories from other girls who had work ed here. This was the point whe re he calls you into his office to test you , to see if you break. I'd heard about people who had been reduced to jelly in front of this man; people who had endured an endless barrage of question s thrown at them - about their personal life, the quality of their work, the friends they kept, everything. No topic was off- guard or off-limits. If he didn't like your answers, he would fire you on the spot. Simple as that.
    But I needed this job. I needed this job desperately.
    You're strong , I th ought. He's just a man. Flesh and bone. What can he possibly do? You're a strong woman , Lauren . Don't let hi m get to you.
    I entered the extravagant office, bigger than my apartment, and walked towards the huge desk near the corner of the room.
    "I don't give a shit what those clowns in Germany say," Jason barked into a mobile phone. "Tell them that if they don't increase capacity by at least five per cent in the next four weeks then we ’re pulling the contract. There are plenty of companies in China that can do just as good a job, just as cheap. No compromise. It's my way or no way. Got it?"
    Windows surrounded the room, enveloping the space in a vast expanse of li ght . They stretched from floor to ceiling, seamless panes of glass that looked out over the city below . New York looked magnificent from up here, like t he first day I had arrived. I had never been anywhere outside of my small rural town, and New York was like going down the rabbit - hole to me. It's a cliché , but the bright lights of the big city seduced me. I hadn’t had the best jobs here, or even made enough money some months to really live comfortably, but I could never go back to such a narrow world. New York wasn't just my home now , it was part of me. It was my beating heart, the blood in my veins.
    "Sorry about that," Jason said, switching off his phone.
    "That's okay," I replied, taken aback at his politeness. Maybe this was him building me up only to knock me down again. Giving me hope before h e tore me apart.
    "It's Miss Wade, correct?"
    "Yes," I nodded. " Lauren Wade ."
    "You're new here, aren't you Lauren ?"
    "I've been here a few months, yes. Not too long." Where the hell was this leading?
    "Good. Then you’re perfect."
    Perfect for what?
    "I have a job for you. A little task , if you will. I need someone to go with me on a business trip. How fast can you type?"
    I was bemused. "About 100 words a minute, I guess."
    "You guess or you know?"
    Here we go. This was where the attitude kicked in. I shi fted in my seat and sat upright. "I know. I can type 100