Be a Good Girl

1. Alice

1

ALICE

Charlie is checking out Joan’s ass again, and he’s not even trying to hide it. Well, after this meeting is over, I’m finally going to fire him.

It’s been a long time coming. He’s been warned by Joan herself, HR, and me, but he still hasn’t changed his behavior. I’m his boss, but Charlie hasn’t learned to respect that yet, because to Charlie, Joan and I are just women, and women are beneath him.

That’s the hardest part of being a female CEO. It’s not the work, not the long hours, and not the mountain of crap I had to take working my way up the ladder–but learning how to have authority over men.

Ever since college, I was ambitious. I was driven. I was focused on reaching the top, and I didn’t care what it took to get there–whether that meant having no friends, no social life, no hobbies, or never anything close to a relationship.

Can anyone say thirty-five-year-old virgin?

I had a few dates here and there, but I never felt that spark you’re supposed to feel that lets you know you might be in love. At this point, I’m genuinely starting to wonder if maybe I’m literally missing the part of my brain that’s required to love.

“So if there aren’t any more questions—” I say to the ten men seated around our conference table in our office on the 40 th floor. There are a few glances, but it seems everyone’s satisfied. Everyone but Charlie.

“Yeah, I’ve got a question.” He grins, turning to Joan, who’s been taking notes in the corner. “Where’d you get that killer dress and why are we so lucky today?”

He chuckles and glances around the room for confirmation from the boys, but none of them are stupid enough to laugh. An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air as they avoid eye contact with him or me.

Well, it looks like that firing will be coming a little sooner.

“Charlie,” I say, getting his attention. He turns and looks at me, and I watch his lips stiffen as he realizes he’s screwed up. “You’re fired.”

Short and sweet.

His face twists and reddens. “You serious? After all I’ve done for this company? You’re seriously going to–?”

“Don’t humiliate yourself,” I cut him off. “And don’t make me call security. Have some class for once.” Without waiting for his response, I turn to the rest of my staff. “Meeting’s adjourned, everyone.”

Joan follows me as we exit the conference room and head for my office. I can feel her excitement as she rushes up beside me.

“That was amazing!” she whispers. “Thank you so much!”

“You should thank Charlie,” I reply. “He did it to himself.”

“But if you didn’t have the balls to do what you did back there…”

A thought springs into my mind: maybe that’s my problem: maybe my “balls” are bigger than the men I’ve been interacting with, and that’s been ruining my dating chances.

No. That can’t be it. I’m the CEO of a medical software and technology supply company. The men who work for me are very typical alpha, driven, type-A–almost the stereotype of what you think of when you picture a successful businessman. These are the kind of men I’ve been around since I was in my early twenties.

No. It’s not the men–it’s me. Something’s wrong with me .

In fact, I turned down a date proposal just two days ago from John Derringer, partner at Derringer and Smith, one of New York’s top corporate law firms. He’s tall, handsome, successful, and comes from an old-money family. On paper, he’s the perfect man. But again, I just didn’t feel that spark between us, so I very politely declined.

But John didn’t take it well at all. His nose twisted up like he’d just smelled a fart, and he turned his back on me and walked back to his colleagues. As I was leaving the building, I heard him call someone a “stuck-up bitch” to one of them. He said it just loud enough without saying my name, so I can’t be positive he was talking about me, but it’s pretty obvious he was.

I’m almost to my office door when I hear an unfamiliar voice from behind me. I turn and see Joan boxing out a courier who seems to be insisting he personally deliver something to me.

The man is tall with dark hair, and even from here I can see the color of his eyes: green, like emeralds sparkling beneath shop lights.

He’s clearly younger than me but carries himself with incredible confidence. There’s something primal in his face, like there’s more than a man beneath that blatantly sexy visage. And when he turns his eyes past Joan and levels them on me, it’s almost as though I’m gazing into the dangerous stare of a wolf.

And just like that, something goes off inside me. Something I’ve never felt before but have been waiting for my entire life.

The spark!

It hits me like a thousand bolts of lightning. Every nerve ending in my body instantly comes alive, and all the air rushes out of my lungs, leaving me breathless.

I wheel on my heels and stride for my office, panicked. I barge inside and slam the door behind me, gasping for breath.

My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. My throat has gone dry, and I race for the mini-fridge, find a water, and down half the bottle.

What’s happening to me?

I’m simultaneously freaking out and smiling as I brace myself against my desk, fighting to get it together.

A tingling sensation swells beneath my legs. My thighs are hot, and I can feel my nipples go hard beneath my bra as a picture of him invades my mind.

Him . But who is he?

I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I’m overwhelmed.

Things are happening beneath my skirt that have never happened before. When I’ve pleasured myself, it’s always been a planned part of my day–almost a routine. It’s never just happened organically because I was suddenly turned on by something. Only right now, I feel my hand sliding down my sensitive pelvic region, which is practically begging to be touched.

“Oh my God…” I whisper as I reach out with my middle finger to lift my skirt. But just then, the door bursts open behind me, causing me to jump like I’ve been hit by a taser.

I whirl around, and to my shock and horror, I see the courier striding into my office–package in one hand, a knowing grin on his tempting lips.

Why is he smiling? Did he see what I was doing just now?

Joan is hot on his heels, protesting his entrance. She knows no one is allowed to just walk into my office without permission when the door is closed.

“I told him not to come in, Alice! But he just came in anywa–”

“I’ve got a delivery.” He points, acting as though Joan simply does not exist, his eyes fixed on me. “I was told to give it directly to you.”

He extends to me a sealed folder with what I know contain documents pertaining to our upcoming deal in Hong Kong.

“You need to leave now! ” Joan barks. The man does not budge. “That’s it, I’m calling security!”

The courier laughs, somehow challenging me. “Really? The great Alice Dupont needs men to solve a problem for her?”

My eyes narrow. I raise my hand and signal to Joan. “It’s okay, Joan. No need for security. Wait outside, please.”

She gives me a double-take but does as she’s told and goes back to her desk, closing the door behind her.

I look back at the courier, still holding out the envelope, then reach out and take it from him. As I do, I feel a rush of heat swell through my entire body and immediately turn away to hide the blush that I know has begun to form across my cheeks.

“Mission successful,” he says, the coy little smile on his lips coming through in his tone that feels somehow like his fingers stroking the back of my neck.

“What is your name?” I ask. “You know you could have left this with my assistant out there.”

I pretend like I’m gazing out through the large windows at the New York City skyline, when actually I’m looking at his reflection in the glass.

His limbs are long, his shoulders broad. He’s not bulky but clearly muscled, sinewed, and looks threateningly strong.

“My name’s Damien,” he replies. “I saw you giving me the eye out there, so I came in here personally to let you know I’ll be taking you out for a drink tonight.”

I’ve been involved with countless business deals and cutthroat businessmen and have clawed my way to the top of a viciously competitive industry. But this is the first time I’ve been speechless before.

I swallow hard before I finally find my breath.

“W-what?” I gasp, turning to face him. “I was not giving you the eye! I–I’m married, for God’s sake!”

I’m not married. I’m lying. So what? What does this courier know about my personal life?

But Damien shakes his head as his lips curl into a knowing smile. “Come on, Alice. We both know you’re not married.”

I can feel my heartbeat in my ears and fingertips, and I’m absolutely positive my blush is no longer a secret.

That spark inside me has grown and is threatening to overwhelm me as I stare at this mysterious man and slowly lose control over my body. The warmth between my legs continues to grow, along with the tickling sensation, and my eyes move to his hands, as if drawn by some mysterious gravitational force.

“You don’t know that!” I snap. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“Oh, no?” Damien laughs, moving forward slowly, rounding my desk as he advances on me.

I should be backing away, but for some reason, I’m not. In fact, I turn toward him as he moves closer, opening myself to him. “Alice Dupont, Forbes Top 10 Businesswomen of 2024. You were number two. Maybe next year you’ll be number one. If you’re a good girl.”

Good girl!? Did he just say if I was a good girl!?

Anyone else would have been out of here the moment he walked through the door. I know I should be throwing him out right now, but it’s like I’m hypnotized. Those emerald green eyes, the predatory stare he’s giving me–I’m transfixed. I can feel moisture on my panties now. Genuine arousal. This has never happened to me in my entire life.

I feel something hard press up against my butt and realize he’s backed me up against my desk. I hadn’t even realized I was stepping away from him–that’s something I never do. It’s important to stand your ground and maintain a powerful position when you’re a CEO.

“Do you mind?” he asks, leaning his arm past me to my water bottle. “It’s a hot day in the city.”

At this distance, I can feel his heat. I can smell his sweat, and all that does is turn me on even more. I can feel my wetness running down my thighs, so I squeeze them together in an attempt to keep that hidden from him. He leans closer, but all I can do is stand there, frozen like a statue of myself as his lips move nearer and nearer to mine.

My God. Is he going to kiss me?

“You have nice lips, Alice,” he says. “I bet none of the men who work for you have the balls to tell you that, but it’s true.”

He is! He is going to kiss me! And I’m going to let him.

But at the last moment, just as our lips are about to meet, he swerves, leans past me, and picks my water bottle up off my desk. He leans back and takes a deep swig and lets his enjoyment read all over his face. A deep disappointment and anger rushes through me that I have to fight from showing.

After he’s finished, he extends his hand like he did before, and I take the bottle back from him. With a wink, he says, “You would have let me,” then turns his back on me and walks toward the door.

I’m shocked, overflowing with rage. I want to hurl the bottle at him and hit him in the head with it.

“I would not!” I shout back.

He reaches the door and turns back to me. “Le Bernadin. See you at eight.”

So presumptuous! Who is this man?

“I won’t be there!” I snap as he grabs the door knob and twists it. Without turning, he replies.

“Come on, Alice, stop pretending. We both know you will.”

And with that, he walks out the door and closes it behind him, leaving me feeling like I’ve just been hit by a tornado.