Bound Beneath His Pain (Dirty Little Secrets 1)

“I never went to university. I started at Richardson right out of high school, then obtained my real estate license.” Well, first I traveled Europe for a year with my best friend, Taylor Eri

kson, on a trip of self-discovery. The only discovery we made is that I can drink Taylor under the table. I became a real estate agent after working as a receptionist at Richardson, during which time I studied for and obtained my license. But these all are things he doesn’t need to know.

His smoky eyes narrow again. “You have no other business experience?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Dammit, I need to dial back the confidence a tad. Everyone has secrets they hold dear and I have mine, too. My past isn’t something I want advertised. “Those are my terms. Are you in agreement?”

He taps his fingers against the table and then begins to swirl them in a slow circle against the dark wood, those eyes directly on my face. I’m ashamed by the way my lower body clenches, as I’m wondering how that touch would feel against my naked skin.

I force myself to look at his face when he finally addresses me again. “Holt will take 25 percent of your commission, not the 20 percent that you’re asking for or the 30 percent we originally offered. Will that suffice?”

I pretend to ponder his offer—25 percent is incredible. “Yes, I’ll agree to that.”

He clasps his hands on the table, and I feel like he’s stripping me layer by layer. It’s intrusive, but I’m not opposed to it. More heat spreads through me, tempting me to move a little closer to him.

I order myself to stay put when he arches a single brow. “You do realize that you’ll have to deliver high sales to prove you’re worth what you’re asking for.”

I nod. “Of course.” And I would prove my worth. Or Liv and I would, I should say.

A long moment of silence settles between us. He’s still regarding me, and within his confident stare I feel like he’s hiding something, or at least that’s how it seems. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s intriguing nonetheless.

His jaw clenches twice before he speaks again. “Well then, let’s hope you can deliver on the promises you are making here.” He moves his pen quickly over the document, changing the terms, and initialing the changes. “You’ll need to bring three signed copies of the offer when you arrive at Holt tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” I accept the papers from him. “Now, one more thing before we finalize this.”

Both of his brows shoot up. I can only guess he’s not used to having anyone dismiss a meeting—which, of course, is exactly why I said it. But the other reason is I’m concerned about my employer. “Before I sign this contract and agree to move to Holt, what is going to happen to Richardson?”

By the way he straightens in his seat, I wonder if I hit a nerve. I realize I’m asking a question that is totally none of my business, and when he folds his arms, closing himself off to me, I become a little nervous about his answer.

“You’re worried about a company you’re considering leaving?”

I can’t get a read on him. His expression is showing very little, so I reply, “Richardson gave me my start. The way I see it, I owe it some loyalty. And I want to know what your plans are.”

He’s watching me closely; a section of his jet-black stylish hair falls free. “Why does it matter? Richardson’s clients will be moved to Holt and all deserving employees will be hired on in some capacity.”

“Exactly my point,” I fire back. “What makes them deserving? Is your decision based on how much they made last year?”

Finally there’s a crack in his unreadable expression, and I can tell by the widening of his eyes that my question surprises him. “What they bring into the company is taken into consideration.” He pauses, and his attention lingers a little too long on me, like he’s sizing me up. “Would you expect it not to be?”

“In business, I do expect that,” I say with a shrug. “But what if they had a bad year? Take Sandy, she’s a longtime agent for Richardson—she lost her husband this past year and has been struggling.” His lips part, but I continue before he can cut me off. “Another employee, Jacob, recently found out that his young daughter has cancer. These are things that you don’t know about the people who work here. So, yes, I’m asking what will happen to them.”

He scrapes his fingers across his square jaw, and I notice his face is ridiculously chiseled, like the rest of him. “Your concern here is that your friends—”

“They’re not my friends,” I correct him.

He snorts softly. “You’re this worried about co-workers?”

“Yes.” Because if I didn’t say this now no one would. Micah is intimidating. I’m experienced at handling men like Micah and ensuring they don’t railroad people. These are things that need to be said, because Sandy and Jacob both deserve to keep their jobs, regardless that they had low sales last year.

Money isn’t everything.

His finger continues to stroke his chin from left to right when he asks, “If I say I plan on dismantling Richardson and can’t save every job, you would refuse to move to Holt, even if that means you would lose your job?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I can tell he’s honestly interested, not judging me, so I’m bluntly honest with him. “I refuse to work for a company that can’t see past the bottom line and doesn’t care for its employees and treat them as people.”