Page 47 of Daddy's Arms

“Listing your home with us. You’ll need to find another agency.”

The look of shock on the little weasel’s face was worth every single penny it might cost him in lost business. “What kind of games are you playing, Monroe?”

“No games. While Olivia’s response to your email was unprofessional and unacceptable, your behavior in this short meeting has shown me she probably put up with far more from you than she should have. I will not entertain clients who treat my agents poorly. And I most certainly will not do business with anyone who sees my wife as nothing more than a, how did you put it? Oh, yes.” He smiled, savoring the way the man’s eyes widened with fear. “A nice piece of ass. Good day, Mr. Jackson.”

The color drained from the weasel’s face, and then returned with such a vengeance James worried for a moment he might have a stroke. Jackson popped out of the chair like a, well, weasel. “You’ll be hearing from our lawyer, and you’ll be closing your doors within a month, I promise you that.”

“I doubt it, but I look forward to explaining your sexist attitude to your legal counsel. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Jackson.”

The man stormed out, and James sat staring at the picture of Olivia on his desk, waiting for the fury churning in his gut to abate. When it had calmed somewhat, he stood and strode down the hall to her office. She was on the phone when he opened the door, so he quietly shut it again behind him and waited for her to finish.

Glancing over, she gave him a sassy wink. “That’s great news! Once I get the paperwork, I’ll call my clients. They’re going to be thrilled at the offer. Thanks, Jenny. Uh-huh. Bye!”

When she hung up the phone, she did what he always thought of as her ‘money dance’, jumping out of the chair and wiggling her hips while pumping her fists in the air. “I just got an offer for ten thousand over listing for that house on Maple.”

“Because you’re brilliant. Good job, Livvy.”

“Thanks. Did you need me?”

“Yes.” As much as he hated to ruin her good mood, he wasn’t about to let this slide. “We need to talk.”

Her face fell into an adorable pout. If they’d been home, he would have put her on her knees with a playful lecture about how good girls used their mouths. Goddamn office protocol.

“What did I do?” she asked, her voice bordering on a whine.

“Mr. Jackson was just here.”

The pout disappeared, replaced by a combination of embarrassment and icy disdain. “And?”

“He had some very… unkind things to say about you.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, but for once he didn’t correct her. If anyone had earned the right to roll their eyes at a client, it was her. “Not surprised. Did you assure him I’d been properly reprimanded?”

“I told him I’d spoken with you. A few minutes before I kicked him out of my office and told him we would no longer be doing business together.”

Her mouth fell open. “You—you did what?”

“I won’t have clients who insult and berate my agents. Especially my wife. Why didn’t you come to me, Olivia? I would have taken care of it if you’d told me how abusive his behavior was.” It was the one thing he couldn’t find an explanation for, other than she hadn’t trusted him to take care of her. And he couldn’t deny that thought about fucking killed him.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

After checking to make sure nobody was passing by, he rounded her desk and reached down to give her ass a long, hard squeeze. She yelped, and a shimmer of tears covered her beautiful brown eyes. He had no doubt she was still sore from last night, and short of breaking every rule they had by bending her over and paddling her in the middle of the office, this quick reminder would have to do.

“Listen to me very carefully, Olivia Jane Monroe. I respect your desire to handle difficult clients on your own. But I will not have my agents berated, belittled, or abused for the sake of a commission. The next time I find out you’ve been ‘handling’ a client like him without telling me the full story, you’ll spend a full day holding a plug inside a very sore bottom. Do you understand me, young lady?”

“But I can—”

He cut off her protests with another hard squeeze. “I know youcan. I’m saying there’s no need for you to. Have I made myself clear?”

“But—”

“Olivia.” He put as much warning as he could into her name. “Keep arguing with me and I’ll go fetch the plug I have in my desk drawer. Have I made myself perfectly clear, little girl?”

Color darkened her cheeks, and her voice was a tremulous whisper when she spoke. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Releasing his hold on her, he gave her bottom a gentle pat and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. The reminder on his phone dinged and he sighed, hating that he had to ruin her day even more. “We have to leave soon.”

The grief in her eyes shattered him. He’d give every last cent they had to never see her in such pain again. “I know.”

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