Consumed By You Read online

  Consumed By You

  The Consumed Series

  By Alicia Marino

  Consumed By You

  Copyright © 2018 by Alicia Marino.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: July 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-396-2

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-396-2

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To Stephanie Meyer,

  I picked up Twilight and read it in one sitting. You taught me to fangirl. You made me love books.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Miss Fontaine?”

  I glance up at the intimidatingly stunning receptionist hovering a few feet away and raise my hand neurotically, my distressed nerves getting the best of me.

  Why are you raising your hand like you’re in middle school?

  I immediately drop it like lightning into my lap, glancing fleetingly to the scattered individuals waiting in the enormous lobby as I have been. “That’s me.”

  She smiles politely, showcasing a flawless set of pearly white teeth. “Right this way.”

  I stand and proceed to follow her down the long white hallway. I look around in awe at the innovative architecture of the building: the immaculate marble floors, the high-end sculptures that resemble nothing of consequence, the pungent smell of genuine leather furniture circulating in the air.

  Everything is so clean. This place practically screams new money. My throat is already tight from nervousness. I don’t think I’ve ever stepped into a business this arresting, this elevated.

  Another stunning raven-haired woman dressed in all black is sitting behind a sleek desk of the same color, typing away on her computer. She notices me approaching and another Stepford smile blinds me.

  Okay, now I’m uncomfortable.

  I don’t fit in here at all. These girls are like supermodels. Were they picked up at a runway show or something? I take in the semi-casual outfit I stupidly picked for this momentous occasion with distaste. It’s a light gray dress, but I’m starting to think flats were maybe not the best choice. The woman’s Louboutins clink against the shiny marble floor and I groan inwardly.

  How does she afford Louboutins?

  They must be paid really well here. The thought comforts me for a fleeting moment until she stops at a lofty doorway.

  “Head right in, Miss Fontaine. She is expecting you.”

  “Thank you.” I turn the brass doorknob with shaky fingers and flash a smile at the elderly woman perched behind another black desk, just like the one in the lobby. She is sporting a navy blue pantsuit and looks impeccably groomed, her silver hair smoothed back into a tight bun, not a stray strand out of place. She regards me cordially, finding me fidgeting at the threshold of the room.

  “Come in. Take a seat.” She gestures to the plush leather seat in front of her. “No need to be shy.”

  She continues typing as I sit, patting down my ironed dress. The room is bright and beautiful, the New York skyline in the window taking up a whole wall behind her. I can already imagine they pay their decorator a fortune.

  “That’s a gorgeous orchid,” I observe conversationally, checking out the violet flower on her desk.

  “They are my favorite,” she states. “I’m sorry I’m being so rude. I’m almost finished. I have to get this to Mr. Scott within the hour.”

  “I understand. Take your time, Mrs. Lindley.”

  “Doris is fine. I’m extremely informal, something you won’t see often from Mr. Scott, just an FYI, if you get the job.”

  She taps a few more minutes before she sighs and turns to me. “Finished and sent. Now, Darcy…may I call you Darcy?”

  “Of course.”

  She gathers some papers, and by the look of them, I believe they are my information and resume. “Adam has said many great things about you and this resume is impressive, even given your lack of experience in this type of work. I see you’ve taken many computer classes and trust me, you will need that for this job. Mr. Scott is a very busy man and will rely on you to be able to help him fast and efficiently. Is that something you think you can do?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  She nods decisively and looks down at the papers again. I twist my fingers nervously in my lap. I need this job. I need to be able to pay my rent this month. Everything rests on this.

  You can’t blow it.

  “There’s no need to be nervous, Miss Fontaine. This job is basically yours. I just have a couple of questions to ask and we’ll be done.”

  Holy shit! Did she just say I got the job?

  ***

  “I believe that’s all I needed to know for now. I am confident you will be a great addition here,” Doris declares with finality, sitting back as I gawk at her. This woman will forevermore be referred to as my guardian angel.

  “I got the job?”

  “Yes. We needed someone right away and usually only hire within the company. Adam’s recommendation couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t let you down.” I reach across and shake her hand firmly.

  “I’m sure you won’t,” she responds. “I’ll walk you out. My incorrigible husband has been calling on the half hour asking what’s for dinner.” She chuckles as if it were an everyday occurrence that she’s fond of. Opening the door, she shows me to the elevator. “Come see me tomorrow at noon. I’ll have the necessary paperwork ready for you and we can get started with the training process. It is going to be extensive and grueling, so come prepared to work your butt off.”

  I’m resisting leaping with joy. I have a job. I actually got the job at Scott Industries!

  I can pay my rent!

  “Thank you so much again.” I take ahold of her hand with enthusiasm.

  “Until tomorrow, Darcy.”

  In my deliriousness, I don’t even realize the elevators have been open and are now closing. I shoot my hand between the sliding mechanical doors and step in. “Tomorrow.”

  ***

  “I love the dress, Darcy,” Doris compliments me as I walk out of the elevator toward her.

  I’m pleased by her comment, glad that the hundred dollars I spent yesterday at Macy’s after the interview wasn’t for nothing. I chose a black tight-fitted sheath dress with matching pum
ps, attempting to look professional like the other girls at this company.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Lindley.”

  “Doris, please.”

  “Right, I’m sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

  “It’s all right, but I’d try to get over that fast. I’m far from intimidating compared to Benjamin. Thankfully, he’s lightened up over the years I’ve worked for him.”

  “How long have you worked with him?”

  “Five years. I worked for his father previously but frankly, between you and me, Benjamin is a much better boss.” She gestures for me to follow her to her immaculate office. She lowers into her desk chair and I plop down ungracefully across from her into the loud leather.

  “Five years…wow.” It’s going to take me longer to get on his good side then. Great.

  “Yes, they really flew by. I’ve known Ben since he was a baby. It’s wonderful to see how accomplished he’s become.”

  She’s full of resolve suddenly, her bony fingers curling around an expensive fountain pen. “I wish I didn’t have to go but my husband was just…well, he was diagnosed recently with stage four lung cancer, so I need to be there to take care of him.”

  I don’t have to know Doris well to ache for her.

  Stage four. Wow.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She struggles to stabilize her demeanor, laying her out flat vulnerably. “We’re hanging in there. He’ll be fine.” She attempts to pull herself together, her lids blinking back any resulting emotions. “Now, here is the contract.”

  She hands me a thick packet of papers, still hot off the press. “Okay, let’s get started.”

  ***

  “Wait, how much?” I wheeze, bewildered by the descriptive paragraph in my contract detailing payment.

  She regards me in amusement. “Your monthly income will be somewhere around ten thousand dollars, nearly two thousand, five-hundred a week. Mr. Scott handsomely recompenses his personnel, especially the employees he works with closely. But as I said, you earn that money. He is a workaholic and will expect you to stay until he tells you it’s okay to go.”

  This guy sounds intimidating as hell. “I can do that.”

  Ten thousand dollars a month.

  That’s an obscene amount of money. I can’t even believe this. It’s so surreal. I got this job too easily. I’m definitely going to have to thank Adam for landing me this godsend.

  “Good, well, you can sign here, and then I’ll take you around to meet some of the staff.” She picks up her pen and hands it to me. It’s heavy in my hand, but I don’t know if it’s the pen or just the weight of this momentous occasion.

  This is where everything begins for me.

  A new life.

  A better life…

  ***

  “Jack, this is Darcy Fontaine. Darcy, this is Jack Upton. He is VP of Scott Industries.”

  I reach out to take his hand energetically. He’s an older gentleman, late fifties, but handsome for his age. He has a kind smile and it calms the rush of butterflies in my stomach for a moment.

  “Miss Fontaine, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Doris had nothing but nice things to say at our meeting this morning.”

  I blush scarlet. “That was sweet of her. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Upton.”

  “Firm handshake, I like that.” He lowers back down into his stiff chair. “Welcome to the company.”

  “Thank you.” I follow Doris out of his gigantic state-of-the-art office. I can only imagine what the big boss’s office looks like.

  “This is Mr. Scott’s office.” She halts outside of glass double doors. “As you can see, your office is right next door. You met Kate down the hall. She is the main receptionist and will let you know when a client is here to see Mr. Scott. Ready?”

  Quite unsettled, I nod, knowing I’m unable to conceal just how frightened I am because her expression transforms into one of hilarity.

  “I promise, he’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”

  Chuckling, she raps against one of the glass doors.

  Keep breathing. Keep breathing.

  “Yes,” a dark rasp answers. She swings the door open.

  I step into an office that resembles a small apartment rather than a workspace. I’m utterly intimidated by the sheer size of it. Holy shit. My confounded pupils flicker to the radiance entering through the windows. The Empire State Building is standing tall and erect, the bright sunlight making the room’s white interior look impressively clean.

  There is a long modern conference table at one length of the room, a sitting area opposite it. The artwork hung on the walls is confusing yet completely fascinating at the same time. I know without asking that they are worth a fortune.

  I’m busy gawking at the splendor around me, positive I cannot feel more disbelief. I’m immediately proved wrong when I take a gander at my new boss. The most gorgeous man I’ve ever beheld is staring directly at me from the desk in the dead center of the room. My weakening jaw drops to the floor, a jolt of electricity melting my insides.

  His luxurious jet-black hair hangs down, caressing wide-set shoulders. It’s perfectly done, although I have the strangest feeling he doesn’t have to do anything to it to make it look that way. His tailored Italian suit rests tight on his torso, clearly made to conform to his unnaturally large body. I drool over the way I can find the lines of his muscles in his arms through the sleeves. His face is perfectly sculpted; the curve of his nose sloped delicately, his pink lips so full, shaped in perfect symmetry. I imagine what it must feel like to touch them.

  But the most intriguing, utterly entrancing features that take me down for the count are the piercing green eyes directed my way. I could honestly get lost in them.

  Shit! I’m lost in them, and now he’s staring at me like I’m a freak.

  “Who’s this?” He regards me, appraising my five-foot-ten-inch figure from head to heel as I remain tittering by the entranceway, unable to move.

  “Benjamin, this is Darcy Fontaine. She is the young woman I’ve hired to take over my position.”

  He rises from his leather throne, the usually intimidating city behind him paling in comparison as he strides up to me, projecting an unhealthy amount of confidence.

  I marvel at his height the closer he gets, as I am forced to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He buttons his suit jacket that probably costs thousands and thousands of dollars with a proud conviction, owning his grandeur.

  I’m not breathing.

  “Darcy, you have some pretty big shoes to fill,” he remarks, holding out his hand for mine. His assertive gaze is full of amusement, probably because he gets this doe-eyed look regularly from women.

  I manage to raise my hand enough to clasp his outstretched limb, left aghast when we make contact. I’m perplexed by his omnipotent influence and he’s barely uttered a sentence in my presence.

  Come on, keep it together. He’s your boss and he’ll fire you in a heartbeat if he thinks you cannot do this.

  “Yes,” I whisper stupidly. Why couldn’t Doris have told me this man is a Greek god? A force to be reckoned with? A superhuman gathering of masculine carnality?

  “When do you start?” He releases my hand and I have to actually resist pouting.

  “I start officially on Friday. I’m in training now.”

  A smile teases the corners of his mouth. I think he’s laughing at me. “Yes, I can see that. I look forward to working with you, Miss Fontaine.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott.”

  Doris opens the door for me and I practically sprint out of the room, desperate to inhale sustainable air that doesn’t consist of his intoxicating scent. It has immediately become my favorite smell.

  Doris closes the door, cackling knowingly like the evil person she is. “Did I mention he’s handsome?” I glare at her and she laughs even harder. “You’ll get used to it.”

  I don’t think I ever will. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Hollywood beautiful. It’s daunt
ing.

  “Is he always that intimidating?” I mutter, taking a seat in her sanctuary.

  “To some. But you will be spend many hours of the day with him, so after a while it won’t seem so nerve-wracking.” She turns her computer to face me and sits in her chair. “You ready to figure out how to do this job?”

  “Ready,” I respond, trying not to picture the man working in the room thirty feet away from me.

  ***

  “There are many businesses in this building, all owned by Mr. Scott. It’s your job to make sure everything is running smoothly. Efficiency is key here.”

  “What kind of companies does he control?” I ask, intrigued by how much he owns. He didn’t look more than thirty.

  “He owns architectural companies, publishing houses, translation offices. The fields vary, which is why it is crucial for you to memorize what is in those books I gave you. Each floor of this building has a purpose, and you will learn what needs to be done each day from the ledgers.” She turns the page in the packet made especially for me. “There is a meeting every Wednesday morning and you usually have weekends off.”

  That surprises me. “Really?”

  “Yes, Benjamin does realize that we have families and lives. There may be a sporadic weekend he asks you to work, but it’s rare.”

  “Ha. Well, I have no life so that will be fine with me.”

  “Oh? I thought you were dating Adam?”

  “No, we used to see each other, but things just didn’t work out for us that way. We stayed good friends.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. He spoke quite highly of you. Any family?”

  “No, no family.”

  “None?” she presses, looking surprised.

  “None that I consider family.” It’s hard to keep the undertone of disdain from my voice as I unwillingly remember a past which is better left tucked in a forgetful corner of my brain.