I Married a Master(36)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"You’re welcome, Mr. Chase," she said, or rather squeaked.

"This is my girlfriend, Ms. Jenna Hadley."

I was going to have to get used to hearing that.

"It’s so nice to meet you," Claire half-whispered, shaking my hand with her cold, clammy one. She swallowed audibly. "I’m sorry. It’s my first day. I’m still getting my bearings."

"Please, don’t apologize. It’s nice to meet you too."

She disappeared out the door a moment later. I ignored the knot in my chest, which was certainly not jealousy. A girl like her couldn’t possibly handle a man like Ben, with all his complexities and dark desires.

I couldn’t stop staring at his desk, wondering if he’d ever spanked anyone on it. Did that extend beyond the boundaries of domestic discipline?

Maybe women in the workplace just weren’t compatible with it at all. I suppressed a laugh, sitting down carefully in one of the chairs across from him.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said, glancing up at me as he began hunting through drawers again. "Damn it. I can never find anything once they’ve cleaned up in here."

"Nothing," I said. "Just admiring your desk. It’s very, uh, imposing."

"Intimidating the subordinates is always good," he said, with a grin. "I play good cop, the desk plays bad cop. Everybody wins."

"I don’t think people like Claire are afraid of your desk," I pointed out. "They’re just afraid of you. It doesn’t matter what your personality is. Anybody with as much power as you have is…well, scary. For lack of a better term."

He just laughed. "Do I scare you?"

"I mean, on a personal level? No. But in the sense that you could probably make me disappear without a trace, if you wanted to? Yeah, a little. Rich people are dangerous. They’re basically unstoppable."

I was echoing my parents’ sentiments, without consciously meaning to. They’d spent so much time and effort drilling them into my head, it wasn’t a surprise that a few of them actually stuck. But really, I didn’t need them. I’d seen enough firsthand to know that money was power, and power corrupts.

And the closest thing to absolute power was having a net worth of almost fifty billion dollars.

Benjamin Chase could practically run his own space program. He could charter a private jet twice a day just to take him across town. That kind of wealth made you crazy, utterly disconnected you from any kind of reality.

But there was something else, too. It struck me, the more time I spent with him, that none of this was particularly interesting for Ben. Certainly not enjoyable. His money made his life easier in countless ways, there was no doubt about that, but it was just normal for him. It always had been. Someone like me could sit and imagine being able to thoughtlessly spend thousands of dollars on a single bottle of champagne, and it seemed like it would be a thrill. And maybe the first time, it would be. But for Ben? It was just like buying a cup of coffee.

I was hardly wallowing in sympathy for the guy, but it was hard to imagine all this excess being so joyless. So empty and without any sense of excitement or thrill. No wonder guys like him had to drive race cars around a track until they crashed and caught fire, just to feel something.

Or spank women recreationally. I supposed that was another way to get one’s kicks.

"Do you have an assistant?" I asked him, finally. "Or…a secretary or something?"

"Administrative assistant," he said. "Yes. She’s fantastic, except when she cleans up my desk. I can’t figure out her organizational scheme at all. I’m pretty sure it’s one of the signs of a budding psychopath."

He glanced up at me. "What’s that sour expression? You trying to scope out all the women in the office, so you know who you should act jealous of?"

It was a harmless joke. Nothing more. But an angry heat flared in my chest, and I could feel a flush creeping up my neck. "Billionaires and their secretaries, right? It’s practically a cliche at this point. I’m just trying to figure out where I stand." I cleared my throat. "Theoretically speaking, of course."

"Theoretically, you’ve got nothing to be worried about," he said. There was a glint in his eyes, or maybe I just imagined it. "Theoretically, my assistant is happily married, and would happily flay me alive if I dared to make a pass at her, which I most certainly wouldn’t, by the way. Actually, none of that is theoretical. It’s all true."

"Yeah, well, nobody thinks they’re a cheater until they become one." I glanced over my shoulder. "Theoretically, if I were the jealous type, I wouldn’t care about any of that. I’d just see if I thought she was attractive, if I thought you might be attracted to her, and I’d smell blood in the water."

"Are you the jealous type?" he asked me.

"Theoretically," I said. "It lends some credence to the performance, doesn’t it?"

"Theoretically," he said. "If you want any tips, just watch Maddy. I hear she’s fiercely possessive."

I laughed. "Some things never change. Does it drive Daniel crazy?"

Ben shook his head, with a smile. "He likes it, if you can believe that. Makes him feel special. I don’t know why. Even animals can feel jealous. It’s the basest emotion there is. The most selfish, too. But he thinks it means something, and that’s all that really matters. Jealousy signifies love to a lot of people. I always thought Daniel was smarter than that, but…" He shrugged. "I guess nobody’s smart when it comes to hormones, right?"

"I think it’s kind of sweet," I admitted. "Exhausting, sure, but I don’t usually judge how people decide to spend their time. Some people play chess, some people do tai chi, some people get jealous. And hell – I mean, if I landed a guy like Daniel, I’d probably be worried about that too."

Ben’s forehead crinkled slightly. "You like him?"

"Not him," I said quickly. "Not him exactly. You know what I mean. Someone…desirable."

The clock ticked very loudly.

"I’m keeping you away from work," I said, after a few moments that felt like an eternity. "Sorry. Uh, should I just…come back around lunchtime, or…?"

"You’re not," he said, at last, seeming to untie his tongue with an effort. "I promise. But you don’t have to sit here and stare at me all day. I’ll have one of the interns show you around, get the full office tour. It might come in handy someday if you need to act like you’ve actually hung out here voluntarily, from time to time." He cleared his throat. "And after that, well…" He hesitated. "Yes, we’ll talk at lunch."