Dare Me Not

The air smells like alcohol mixed with semen and latex. A familiar scent. Too familiar.

When I open my eyes, the morning sun peeks from the gap between the curtains, and it creates a glowing golden ray in the dark room; a reminder that my night’s bliss is over. What’s left now is a heavy head from too much drinking and a sore pussy from back-to-back fucking. I’m not complaining, though, because what more do I ask from life? I have money, friends, and sex. A lot of sex. There’s nothing to whine about, except for having to meet my dad in his office today.

Lying flat on my tummy, I glance at the diamond-shaped alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s almost time, yet my brain is still searching for excuses to wriggle myself out of this appointment. But it’s my father I’m talking about, the person from whom I inherited my stubbornness. If I escaped him today, it would just prolong my problems.

My train of thought is disrupted by a hand stroking my bare back. It slowly creeps down to my lower spine, to my loin, and it makes a circular movement on my buttocks.

“I need to go soon,” I say as a warm breath caresses the back of my neck. “I need to see my old man.”

“Can’t it wait? I’m hard again.”

“I wish.” As the stroke is becoming urgent, I swat the hand and scramble out of bed, followed by a protesting groan from its owner, Dan. Or is it Bram? No, I think it’s Steve.

The cool breeze from the air conditioning brushes my bare skin as I stand next to his king-sized bed, my eyes roaming over the room to find my clothes. I hope that I didn’t arrive at this place naked last night. It happened once, and it can happen again, especially when I’m that wasted.

Steve’s studio is spacious with a minimalist dark interior. I suspect he doesn’t actually live here since there is no human photo in sight or randomly cluttered garments lying around. But who cares? All I need to do is to get the fuck out of this strange place.

“Are you free tonight?” Steve rolls over. His silky duvet is dangerously low, barely covering his groin.

“Maybe.” I shrug and pick up the red panties that are crumpled next to his nightstand before making my way to his living room. I groan as I grab my sequin tank top from a reading chair, realizing I will be wearing it to my dad’s office since I don’t have time to go home and change. “Shit!” I hiss when I see my skimpy leather skirt by the entrance hall.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks from the bedroom.

I walk back to him with my clothes dangling in my hands. “Do you have women’s sweaters or jackets lying around in your wardrobe, by any chance? Or anything that doesn’t show my tits or my belly.”

“Uh, not sure.” Steve rubs his face before propping himself up. “I think I do. Lemme check.” Turning on the table lamp, he shambles into his drawers, as if it takes up his whole energy, and digs into the lowest rack while his bare butt cheeks stare at me. Nice bumps, I must say. I wish I remembered what I did with them last night. “White sweater will do?” he croaks as he waves a white hoodie at me.

“Sure. Anything but my stupid top.” I take the sweater and head to his bathroom. “I need to wash up a bit. Can’t go to my dad’s office with this look.”

At a glance, the sweater is too big for my petite torso, but whatever. It’s better than my cropped top, which barely covers my ribs. The hoodie has a college slogan on its front and a name on its back: Jessica. Was she also a random someone Steve found at a club? I wonder why the sweater is still sitting in Steve's drawers. Doesn’t she want it back given how personal it is? I hope I don’t bump into this Jessica girl on my way to my dad’s office and end up wearing just a bra because she demands her missing hoodie back.

After a quick freshen-up to get rid of the sex and liquor scent, I slide into the sweater and my leather skirt. I have no time to wash my hair but I can pull it into a ponytail and spray extra perfume on it later. From my reflection in the mirror, my brown hair falls in all the wrong directions, framing a pale face and dull eyes that are staring back at me. Those are easy evidence of someone having too much party, but in Jessica’s hoodie, I look more like a uni student who has been up all night working on an assignment.

Satisfied with my appearance, I make my way out of the bathroom, and the aroma of brewing coffee hits my nostrils. My stomach growls instantly. Steve is standing behind a mini pantry in the corner of the living room in his silk sleeping robes, no more but-cheeks on display.

“Coffee?” he offers.

“I don’t have time. I’m running late already.” After putting on my boots, I snatch my bag from a side table in his entrance hall and pull the door open. Then I turn around and flash him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Steve. I will send this sweater back to you once it’s washed.”

Under the bright light coming from the window, his pretty face shines like an angel. Then his plump lips curl into a sexy grin. My, oh my, who would deny that piece of art? Deep and dark eyes, strong jawline, and black curls to clutch while he gives pleasure. With a body like a Baywatch boy, girls will drop their panties in no time, me included.

“No problem,” he says. “And it’s Jimmy.”

***

Once I step into my father’s office building, all attention shifts to me, though people try to be subtle about it. I’m not in my red sequin top, nor wearing the leftover makeup from last night, yet they glance at me as if I’m the juiciest meat to chop for the office gossip; the gossip that will go around during lunchtime or the slow and boring office hours. The gossip about their big boss’ messed-up daughter.

I never asked to be born a Hayes, especially the Hayes who owns Hayes Retail Corp. Despite the privileges of being a daughter of one of the most successful businessmen in the country, it gives me more limitations than freedom. Too many pairs of eyes follow me like hawks, waiting for me to make stupid mistakes to laugh at, to pity my life, or to make them feel better about their own lives.

Deep down, I wish my mother had taken me with her when my parents split up, so that I could live under the Scott family name and go unnoticed. But again, what kind of life could my mother offer? She can barely support herself at the moment, financially and mentally, and it’s the very reason I’m stuck with my dad. At least, I can make sure she’s taken care of because of my unlimited financial means due to my father’s wealth. I call it cross-subsidization.

The ding sound of the elevator pulls me out of my bubble of thought. Once the car doors slide open, the familiar empty corridor comes into view, its white tiles bouncing the office lights from its ceiling. My stomach churns all of a sudden. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk last night, let alone going to someone’s place.

As I trudge ahead, glass walls run on either side of me; one door on my right side and two doors on the other side. They are the doors to the pantry, filing room, and a small meeting room. I slow down at the end of the corridor, where the L-shaped secretarial desk is arranged. A woman in a blue blazer sits behind the desk, already staring at me with an expectant glint. My dad’s new secretary.

“Good morning, Ms. Hayes. Mr. Hayes is–”

“Waiting for me.” I finish her line while striding to my father’s door. “I know.” I halt mid-way and turn around, peering at the blonde assistant who is now looking up at me with anticipation mixed with...giddiness? Is Dad fooling around with his new assistant again? I inwardly roll my eyes. “Do you know what this is about?”

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid not, but he’s not alone in his office. Mr. Hunt is also inside.”

“Fuck,” I murmur under my breath. I hate that man’s guts. Whatever Dad wants from me, as long as Alexander Hunt is involved, it’s not going to be a good thing. “Good to know. Thanks.”

I knock on the door twice and push it open without waiting for my dad’s reply. Holding my head high, I stride into his large office, which only shows one color tone: white. My old man sits behind his managerial desk with his back facing the bare glass window, no shades or blinds blocking the sunlight. I swear I can almost see a halo on top of his head from the backlight. Or maybe it’s me feeling lightheaded from all this severe brightness.

“Good. You’re here,” he says.

“I said I would come,” I reply, glancing at the person who is sitting on the guest sofa on the other side of the room. Alexander fucking Hunt. He looks intimidating and arrogant as usual, with his black attire contrasting with the white sofa fabric, which makes it rather funny. I’m imagining him as a hard devil stranded in fluffy heaven.

The man leans back with his legs crossed, elbow on the armrest, and his fingers on his lips. His gaze is on me, studying me, probably judging me from my outfit, yet his expression is stoic, not giving anything away. And it pushes my buttons every time he does that. From the very first day my dad introduced him as the new Chief Operation Officer, I knew he’d always looked down on me as if I was nothing more than a rubbish, useless kid.

Hunt is such an obnoxious, pretentious, and outrageous human being.

I walk over to the chair in front of my dad’s desk and plop down. “So, why did you summon me?” I glance back at his colleague. “And why is he here for this talk?”

“You look terrible.” My dad frowns, ignoring my question. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine. I just...didn’t have enough sleep.”

“Working on your final assignment, I hope?” My dad leans forward to push a button on his intercom.

“Yeah. Sort of.”

In the next seconds, a soothing female voice vibrates from the intercom loudspeaker. “Yes, Mr. Hayes?”

“My daughter needs something to drink.” My dad reverts his gaze to me. “Coffee?”

I nod. “Please.”

After ordering a cup of coffee for me, he leans back and interlaces his fingers together. “It’s about your internship.”

“My what?”

“Parker, we have talked about this,” he says. “Before you complete your master’s degree, which I hope will happen very soon, you will need to start the internship.”

I bite back my groan. “But I’m nowhere done with my degree. I told you I was a bit behind with school.”

My father nods and rubs his jaw. “I’m aware of that, but let’s not wait any longer. You will be twenty-five this year, and it’s time to start the role that is designated for you.”

“Dad.” I moan. How do I tell him that I’m not interested in running this company? That I don’t want to get stuck in the business I don’t care? But of course, the confession would drive him up to the wall, and I’m not ready to face the consequences yet. “Can this wait until I’m at least almost done with my final assignment? It’s going to be hard to split my focus on work and study.”

“It’s not going to be real work per se; it’s more learning. You will basically watch and learn about how things work in general, take some notes on what you think can be improved, or maybe you’ll come up with some brilliant ideas for our business.” My dad purses his lips while glancing up at the ceiling, snapping his fingers frantically. “There is another term for this, I believe.”

“On-the-job training?” a deep voice from behind me says.

“That’s the one.” My father points his forefinger at Alexander.

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” I reply.

“You will never be ready until you’re thrown into it,” says the voice again. Do I hear a mockery tone?

“And how do you suggest I manage the time for this company and my final thesis?”

Xander clears his throat. “We will also figure out the perfect schedule so that you can also work on your thesis.”

We? I clench my jaw. “Can we talk about this, Dad?” I glance sideways at Xander before looking back at my old man. “In private?”

To my dismay, my father shakes his head. “Nah, no need. Mr. Hunt is here for a reason, after all.” He props himself up and walks around his mahogany desk. “Enough stalling, Parker. It’s time to get your ass to work. And,” he adds, sliding his hands into his pockets, “Xander will be your immediate supervisor during the internship.”

“What?” I ask, not believing my own ears. I hope he’s just joking. Having to start the internship earlier than I expected is shitty enough, and now he’s about to throw me at that conceited man? No fucking way.