Page 54 of Dominant

Chapter 14

The Party

Alexander

I didn’t like to be kept waiting, and I certainly didn’t tolerate being stood up.

Jordan hadn’t responded to any of my texts the night before and I was irrationally angry about it. We had a meeting that morning to discuss the tax filing for 278503921 Ltd., which I needed her help with. It was a complicated process because I kept most of the files confidential and there was a little bit of fudging required vis-a-vis the nature of the private club. In the past, I’d had to carefully manage what my accountants knew about it.

When I’d booked the meeting, I’d felt dopey and lovesick, marvelling that I’d ever met a woman like Jordan. A woman who could both handle my twisted sexual demands and then help file the tax returns for my not-entirely-legal business. I didn’t think I deserved to be so lucky.

Fifteen minutes after our meeting was supposed to start, and after a night of no contact, my infatuation was developing a harder edge. I wouldn’t tolerate being disrespected, I reminded myself. At the end of the day, Jordan was my employee.

At thirty minutes past the hour I was livid, touching my phone every few minutes on the impulse to call Mark and let him know that he had to fire her, and then talking myself out of it and trying to calm down.

When she didn’t show up to the meeting at all, I started to get worried. I called Mark and Marianne only to find that neither of them had seen or heard from her. Knowing I was probably overreacting, but unable to help myself, I grabbed my coat and car keys and drove to her shitty apartment building in Parkdale.

I called Marianne on the way to get the apartment number from her employee file, and then I let myself into the building. There was no buzzer at the entrance; certainly no doorman. I heard a baby crying and smelled cat piss, and I climbed the dirty carpeted stairs to the second floor with a barely-contained look of revulsion on my face.

I’d spent the first six years of my life in apartment buildings like this one, and the next twelve in rundown houses that weren’t much better, but once I’d gotten into university I’d started getting used to finer things.

I almost didn’t want to touch the door when I got to #7, and I couldn’t hide a small grimace as I rapped loudly on it. When no one answered, I knocked again, louder.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” called a voice that wasn’t Jordan’s, and a minute later, a pretty blonde girl opened the door in a skirt and blazer I’d seen Jordan wearing in the office before. It fit her much better.

“Well, hello,” she said, unselfconsciously giving me the once-over.

“Hi,” I answered, trying to look serious. “I’m looking for Jordan Starck.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m her boss.”

“Oh, you’re her boss.”

I wondered how much Jordan had told her.

She swung the door open wide. “C’mon in. I’m on my way out but she’s in the kitchen.”

I stepped across the threshold into a narrow hallway with an overpacked coat rack and messy shoe stand.

“Jordan, your boss is here!” the girl called towards the back of the apartment. “I’m off, see you later!”

“No!” I heard Jordan’s hushed, angry reply, just a second after the girl had squeezed past me and let the door close behind her. Jordan walked into the hallway in pyjamas, and froze.

The sight of her surprised me. I’d never seen her like this. Loose, plaid pants, a thin t-shirt with no bra on, and all her thick, long hair tied up in a loose knot at the top of her head. I was used to seeing her in either work attire or the long shift of an initiate. It astounded me to realize that she had a whole other side to her I didn’t know. How much did I really know her at all?

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her eyes looked hard and accusing.

“We had a meeting.”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Oh? Do you usually drive out to your employees’ houses when they don’t show up for work? Or is this about something else? Maybe you’re nervous you haven’t heard back about my Chateau Andilet shares and you’re here to try to talk me into selling in person. The deadline’s coming up, isn’t it?”

Ah.

I took a breath. I’d been so distracted by Jordan, in such a fog of libido, that I’d forgotten I wanted to talk to her about the tender offer before she received her letter. I had wanted to tell her that hers were the only shares I didn’t want.

“Can I come in, Jordan?” I asked gently.

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