Marketplace Read Online Free PDF Page A

power thing
already?
    The guy from the door came
back, his sudden appearance startling her.
    “Jeeze!” she exclaimed.
“Give some warning, will you?”
    “My apologies,” the guy
said smoothly. “Mr. Elliot will see you in his office in the north
wing. You may leave your piece of luggage here. Please follow
me.”
    More surprises. She had
expected rich furnishings and a castle, like in the story books.
Instead, the house was clearly modern and decorated with a light,
contemporary style. Large windows allowed the afternoon sunlight to
penetrate the corridors. When they passed a dining room with open
doors, she saw someone laying the table. Disappointingly, she was
also fully and plainly dressed.
    “Don’t you have slaves to
do the work around here?” she asked as they reached the
stairway.
    “Sometimes.” Chris turned
down a wide hallway, opened a door and indicated that she enter the
room. She walked into an office showing a lot of use. File cabinets
lined one wall. A table was piled with papers and folders and
stacks of correspondence. There was a computer in one corner, and
at least two phones that she could see. A large oak desk dominated
the room, with a sturdy leather chair behind it. Two more chairs
were angled in front of the desk, and she walked over to one.
Sunlight poured in the large windows behind the desk. There was a
view of a driveway and a grove of trees beyond.
    “Mr. Elliot will be here in
ten minutes, Ms. Brosa. Please do not seat yourself or disturb
anything in the room.”
    She stopped herself as she
was sitting down. “I can’t sit?”
    “No.”
    “For ten minutes?” But
Chris was already leaving, and closing the door behind him. She
walked over to the door and reached for the handle, her indignation
growing. But she stopped herself.
    It’s a trick, she realized.
If I chew the little guy out, I won’t be acting submissive. She
grinned. Ten minutes? He’ll come in five. He’ll be expecting to
surprise me, like I’d be sitting down and he’d come in all of a
sudden. Not this babe, buster.
    She put her purse down on
the floor next to one of the chairs. I’ll just wait here like it’s
the most natural thing in the world. Five minutes isn’t that long.
She checked her watch.
    As the seconds ticked past,
she glanced around the room. It was obviously a working office. It
wasn’t dirty, but it could probably use some organizing. Where were
the house slaves, anyway? This wasn’t anything like the books. In
the books, everyone was drop-dead gorgeous, and the slaves walked
around naked, or wearing bikinis and stuff like that. They lived in
pristine palaces or in Victorian mansions with luxurious play-room
dungeons in the basements, where masters and mistresses lolled
around being waited on. They didn’t hang out in boring offices
surrounded by paperwork.
    She checked her watch
impatiently, and then wandered over to the table and looked at the
items spread over it. Maybe there were slave files here. Maybe some
pictures? No such luck. Bills. Lists. A diagram of something, she
wasn’t sure what. A Rolodex was open to some guy’s name and number
somewhere in Maine.
    Boring.
    The bookcase was also dull.
No mysterious books on the training of slaves. In fact, there
weren’t even any of the classic books that she read. Instead, it
was all computer books. And some sailing books, a big dictionary, a
bunch of business books. She looked at her watch again. It was
already five minutes, thank God, but the guy wasn’t
there.
    Huh. Double psych-out, she
thought. Like he figured I’d figure him to be here in five, but he
really meant ten. Damn, this stuff could get confusing. She picked
up a small glass dog, looked at it and put it back. Was he really
going to make her wait a whole ten minutes?
    Over to the desk to see if
there was anything interesting there. Ah-hah! Right on top, a file
folder with her name neatly typed on the label. She glanced at the
door, and then at her watch. Two minutes to