Under the Rancher's Firm Hand

Chapter 1 – Harlee

The day I got the job, I’d been pacing all morning, since the early morning birds started their songs and the early bird mowers set to work on their lawns. Fortunately, my mail comes early. I’m one of the first on the route, so on days like that, I didn’t have to wait in agony.

And when I heard that engine roar outside, I raced down like there were hellhounds at my heels.

But there it had been. The letter I’d been waiting for, hoping for.

It was not easy, though. The first day I set foot in the office, I found myself feeling extremely self-conscious of my outfit. The skirt was a more-than-appropriate knee length, but I’d gained a little weight since I’d gone clothes-shopping and everything fit a little more snugly than it had when I bought it. I needed to impress my boss and his associates, since I was to be his new assistant. I was hyperaware of my every move.

I walked up the steps trying to project an air of confidence, trying to “fake it till I make it.”

My perfume was new, and it had been a hit with every male I’d passed on my way here. I’d gotten a number of turned heads and double-takes, and while it had been an ego boost, it didn’t necessarily speak to the professionalism of either the outfit or the fragrance.

There were faces both old and young, all carefully curated as I walked up the steps, into one elevator and the next escalator. I got the distinct, immediate impression that The Foundry was no place to mess around. I felt a little out of my depth, this was far different than the odd handful of jobs I’d had.

I tried not to fidget in my seat by the secretary’s desk, which was a deep matte black with small, bead-like lights casing the center logo. I admired the elegance of it, as well as the rest of the lobby. The wood floors clicked sharply under the sounds of heels and dress shoes.

I was sitting directly under the blast of an AC unit, and my fingers soon went numb. My nipples were hard as rocks inside my bra and I prayed they weren’t jabbing through the padding of my bra.

I tried to glance down subtly, but to no avail, I couldn’t quite tell.

Finally, I was called up by the secretary, Marge, a shrewd blonde woman with sharp red cats’ eye glasses. Immediately, I could tell she did not like me, but I didn’t care. She wasn’t the one I had to impress, she was just the one opening the door.

I just didn’t know that on the other end of said doors would be a glaring treat neatly wrapped in a tailored navy blue three piece suit, Italian moccasins and the strongest chin describable in my wildest fantasy. Caleb Johnson was his name, and immediately I was weak in the knees.

Uh-oh.

“Sit.”

That single word sent a bolt of heat right to my core, and I obeyed without question, though I felt a bit like a dog.

The man just oozed of sexual charisma and charm before he even spoke. Maybe it was the lighting that gave him that godly. Maybe it was that sharply tailored suit. Maybe it was those gray eyes, roaming my body.

He looked me up and down as I sat, and those steely eyes were so intense I could almost feel them on my skin.

Once again, I sat still and tried not to fidget while I watched him thumb through my resume. While the AC wasn’t as intense in here, it was still cool enough that my nipples were most definitely standing proudly at attention.

His eyes roamed the page and I mentally listed the experience he was taking in. Waiting tables at the local barbecue joint, assisting with tows in my uncle’s towing company down by the Ozarks and working as an assistant DJ at the Royal School for the Blind middle school over spring break did not really spell out excellence. He was done in less than a minute.

“Impressive stuff, Harlee. So, tell me. Why do you need this job?”

That fucking voice. For a moment I was almost worried that steam was going to start to rise from between my legs.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand, I was under the impression that I had already gotten past the interview portion and that I had gotten the job.”

“You assumed wrong Miss Sawyer,” he said coolly, and swiveled slightly in his almighty chair.

My stomach dropped. All of my savings had gone toward this move. I thought about the letter again, and it had made it clear in no uncertain terms that I had a position here. Caleb’s lips turned up a little, and in that moment, all that heat that had been simmering in my veins went from a pleasant warmth to a hot rage. In that moment, I hated him. I hated that smug smirk on his face.