Constance Marounta
[Asher’s POV]
“Noah, you can’t trust me,” I heard my brother’s voice grumble through the phone.
I wasn’t bothered.
Untrustworthy, ungrateful, immature, irresponsible—these were just a few of the labels my father and older brother had slapped on me over the years.
I was twenty-eight, but they still treated me like a kid.
Sure, I was a bit of a rebel, but all the negative traits they associated with me only applied when it came to the family business.
I never wanted to be a businessman. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the skills—I did.
But to my father’s disappointment, I had no desire to get involved with the successful company he’d built from the ground up.
My passions were different from what was expected of me. I loved music and photography, and while I was a so-so musician, I was a fantastic photographer.
I wasn’t arrogant about it, but I saw no harm in recognizing my own worth, even if others chose to overlook it.
“You can always fire me, Noah. I never wanted this job in the first place,” I replied coolly.
“Believe me, Ash,” Noah spat back, his voice dripping with venom. “If it weren’t for Dad’s stubbornness, I would’ve fired you already.
“Or maybe I would’ve granted your wish to be a call center operator. You’re not qualified for anything more.”
“Exactly my point.” I feigned excitement. “Why don’t you convince Dad to hire me for a lower position? It’d be better for everyone.”
And it would get you off my back, I wanted to add, but held my tongue.
“You think I haven’t tried, asshole? He won’t listen. He’s convinced that giving you what you want will cause a scandal.
“That’s why he gave you the position you have now, but you managed to screw it up.”
“It’s in my nature.” I shrugged, even though Noah couldn’t see me.
“Change your nature, Ash. You’re being moved to the main branch of our company as a CEO next month, so get your shit together.”
After hanging up with Noah, I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. I should’ve run away when I dropped out of college.
If I hadn’t chickened out, my life would be completely different now.
But I wanted to make my mom happy. She was in the final stages of cancer, and she’d begged me to stay and try to be a “proper” son for my dad.
She’d promised that if I made that small sacrifice, everything would be okay and I’d eventually be able to pursue my passions, even as a hobby.
She’d reasoned that without my father’s support, I wouldn’t be able to make a name for myself easily.
But then she died, and nothing went according to plan. I’d let myself get trapped and regretted the moment I gave in and made that promise.
“Come on, girl,” I patted my lap for my dog to come over. “We both need a walk.”
We took a long stroll around the park, and I let my eyes linger to memorize the place I was supposed to leave in a month.
I’d grown to love this city. It was both noisy and peaceful. I hated the thought of leaving so soon.
When I got back home, I sat at my computer to work on some photos I’d taken earlier that week.
No matter how busy I was, I always made time for photography, and I’d taken some really great shots recently.
But in the middle of uploading them, my computer froze. It was one of our company’s own.
It would be ridiculous if we were using products from a competitor, although I was tempted to do just that, if only to annoy my father and Noah.
Pushing aside my irritation, I decided to finally test the tech support department of my father’s company.
They were available twenty-four hours a day, located in the main branch where I was supposed to become the new CEO, so time wasn’t an issue.
As I dialed the call center’s number, I waited patiently for the introduction to finish so I could be transferred to a tech support operator.
It was quicker than I expected, and after a couple of rings, I was connected to a girl whose name I didn’t quite catch.
I explained my problem to her, and she started giving me instructions after a few seconds.
From the distant sound of flipping pages, I realized she was looking through a manual to help me.
What the fuck?
The tech support operators were supposed to be the most highly trained to provide the best customer service experience.
She was reading from a fucking manual to me.
“Are you sure this is the right solution?” I asked, starting to feel annoyed. I’d have to talk to Noah about employee training as soon as I took over.
Printed manuals? Who uses those anymore?
“Based on the description you gave me, it’s the only thing that fits. I can look up some alternatives if this doesn’t work,” she replied kindly.
“Well, you’re going to have to find something else because this isn’t working,” I lied smoothly.
I didn’t even bother to try. I went to fix myself a drink instead, hearing her flipping pages frantically in the background.
She probably didn’t realize her heavy, slightly panicked breathing was audible, and I didn’t comment on it.
I just downed one glass after another, rejecting every solution she suggested.
It was turning into a twisted kind of fun, making her search for more. Maybe it was because I was a bit drunk. Or maybe it was her nice voice.
And I hated to admit it, but her unconscious breathing was kind of turning me on in the late hour.
Suddenly, I remembered the pranks I used to pull in high school.
When my friends and I would call my father’s company’s customer service late at night, pretending we’d reached a sex hotline.
We made the operators uncomfortable, but I resented my dad so much I didn’t care. I didn’t mean any real harm anyway.
I smirked. I was relaxed and in the mood to play again. Not out of spite, but need. Or maybe it was a bit of both.
I’d had enough to drink that I couldn’t tell the difference at the moment.
“That didn’t work either, sweetheart,” I drawled. “What was your name again?”
“Maggie,” she responded, her voice strained with irritation. “I don’t mean to sound rude, sir, but did you follow all the steps I outlined?”
“I did, Maggie, but it didn’t work. Your software isn’t as foolproof as you claim.”
“I’m really sorry for the trouble, sir. I’ve run out of solutions. This is a first for us.
“I’ll have to send a request for further investigation. We’ll get back to you as soon as—”
“Maggie,” he cut her off, a smirk in his voice.
“Yes?”
“Do you touch yourself?” he asked, a laugh barely contained in his voice.
“What?” she stuttered, taken aback.
“Do. You. Touch. Yourself. Maggie?” he repeated, enunciating each word.
He was already enjoying this. He could almost see her blushing. She sounded like the blushing type.
“Sir, that’s not relevant and it’s very inappropriate,” she reprimanded, her voice shaky.
“I disagree, sweetheart. It’s late, and you’ve been whispering in my ear for the past twenty minutes. It makes me curious about how you sound when you’re pleasuring yourself.
“Are you a moaner or…?”
“Sir!” Her voice rose in protest. “If you don’t need anything else, I’ll have to end this call.”
“Since you couldn’t fix my problem, maybe you could do something else for me,” he suggested.
He tried to keep his voice steady as he finished his drink. He waited for her response, but she stayed silent.
“I want you to slide your hand into your panties and touch yourself.
“I want to hear you come while your coworkers are around,” he whispered, surprised she hadn’t hung up on him yet.
The line went dead and he laughed.
He dialed the number again. His own dirty talk had turned him on, and he wanted to tease her some more.
The call connected immediately.
“Tech services, this is Leo. How can I assist you?”
He hung up, muttering a curse.
Damn killjoy.