"I have a meeting in ten minutes." I point to the door. "You're free to leave."
"But—-"
"Don't make me repeat myself, Ms. Duke. Ever."
Nic's niece lets out a sigh, but since she's also uncrossing her legs as she does, I end up nearly groaning out loud when I catch another glimpse of the lovely forbidden things under her skirt.
"I'll see you on Monday then...Uncle Slater."
I'm left staring at her as she walks out of my office with her gently swaying hips.
What the fuck did she just call me?
Mary
I rush to my feet as soon as I see Scarlett step out of Mr. Stanford's office. "Well?" I ask nervously. "How did your interview go?"
The girl gives me a dazzling smile. "Perfect."
My eyes widen. "Really?" I was actually worried Scarlett and her new boss would butt heads the way she and her uncle do so often, but I guess that's just me being overly worried like usual.
"So..." Scarlett only speaks again when it's just the two of us in the elevator. "I tried Googling about him earlier, but I couldn't find anything definitive."
"What do you want to know?"
"Is he dating anyone right now?"
I'm already shaking my head before the younger girl even finishes speaking. "Don't even think of it, Scar. Just no."
Scarlett looks at me with a defensive expression on her face. "What?"
"I've known you for years, Scarlett Verhaege Duke," I say warningly, "and that tone you used earlier usually means you're up to something."
"I just want to know more about my new boss—-"
I cut her off, asking, "Do you remember telling me that you've never found older guys attractive?"
"Oh." Scarlett looks at me surprise. "I actually forgot I ever said that."
"You did."
"But Slater is different—-"
"Is he, really? I don't know why you think he's different, but at least give yourself some time to think it over. Mr. Stanford isn't like any of those boys you dated in high school—-"
Scarlett looks at me reproachfully. "You've heard about those rumors, too, haven't you? And I suppose you believed them, too?"
The answer is 'yes' to both questions unfortunately, but now I'm starting to think I may have been too hasty with my judgment.
"It's true that I've turned down every boy who asked me out," Scarlett admits, "but it's not because I simply break hearts for fun like they're saying."
"Then..." I look at her in confusion. "You just wanted to date them, but you weren't in love with them?"
"They all told me they were in love with me," Scarlett says with a sniff, "but they all turned out to be liars. So you, see that's why those rumors can't ever be true. There weren't any hearts to break since they weren't really in love with me in the first place."
"How did you know—-"
"It was very easy, unfortunately. Do you know...I asked each and every one of them about my middle name, and all of them couldn't even pronounce it correctly, much less spell it? If you're truly in love with someone, wouldn't you be eager to know everything about that person?"
I've never heard Scarlett speak so wistfully before, and now I feel even guiltier for misjudging the younger girl.
"Was it too much to expect that they'd at least care to know what my entire name is?"
All I can do is shake my head. Every word Scarlett has said is true. If you love someone, everything about that person would fascinate you.
However—-
"I'm sorry for believing those rumors about you were true," I say softly, "but...that still doesn't change my opinion about you and Mr. Stanford."
Scarlett looks at me in dismay. "But Mary—-"
"I have no idea why you think Mr. Stanford is different from all those older men you found unattractive," I say uneasily, "but what if you suddenly change your mind, and Mr. Standford ends up thinking you were just leading him on?"
"It won't be like that."
Scarlett's tone is passionate, and since I don't want into get an argument with her, I simply nod and say gently, "Just give it some thought first, okay? That's all I'm asking."
And hopefully, by that time, her interest in Mr. Stanford would have passed.
Slater
"Good morning, Uncle Slater."
Here we fucking go again.
It's already Day Fucking Five of her internship, and she's still doing every damn thing wrong like she's begging for a spanking.
We've got standards and rules in my company, and they're nothing complicated.
To start with—-
"Will you stop calling me that?" I growl. "I already told you it's not proper—-"
"But Uncle Nicolaas is your friend," she protests. "Doesn't that make you my uncle, too?"
"No," I snap. "It. Does. Not."
"Then..."
She bites her lip, and I have to yank my gaze off it before I'm tempted to do some biting myself.
"What do I call you?"
"Daddy," I say sarcastically.
"Oooh." She stares up at me in awe. "I never knew you'd be so kinky...Daddy."
I feel my cheeks flushing even as my dick starts to stir. "It was a joke," I bite out.