Unbind by Sarah Michelle Lynch

looked at my work phone which sat next to my personal one, I saw three messages on that too!
    UNKNOWN: Got your number from the employee directory. Just thought to say goodnight.
    UNKNOWN: Oh, it’s Cai by the way.
    UNKNOWN: You’re beautiful.
    My cheeks scorched, a big smile giving me face ache. Only my first day and I’d embarrassed myself stupidly and found a guy who thought I was beautiful. Nothing about it seemed real. That was when FaceTime launched into action on my work phone and I saw it was Klaus.
    At stupid-o-clock!
    How in the hell …?
    I answered, my voice scornful, “Checking up on me, eh?”
    “No, petal, no,” he replied, in his posh German accent. “Just wanted to check you haven’t been mugged, spat or pissed on yet?”
    “None of the above,” I replied with a regal air to match his.
    Wily bastard .
    I could equal him if I wanted to.
    “How’d the first day go?” His tone was inoffensive yet irritating.
    “Not bad. Still don’t know why I’m here. Really can’t understand it at all. They all fucking hate me.” I shuffled on the uncomfortable sofa bed and wondered why I’d given up my comfy two-bed flat on Ecclesall Road.
    “Seen Perez Hilton yet?” He grinned with a glint in his dark eye I didn’t like.
    “Why the fuck would I?” Yet the smug look on his handsome face made me shut my trap.
    I quickly reached for my iPad and got it set up. The front page of that website had an image of me and Kincaid at the pub, some happy snapper having caught him kissing my cheek. The caption read: ‘HEIR FINDS MATCH?’
    Kincaid had mentioned connections, but…? A couple of taps on Google revealed he was due to inherit his late mother’s estate, if only he married. In the background I ignored Klaus’s amused expression as he continued to eat his continental breakfast. Of course, they were an hour or two ahead in Europe.
    “Why did you put me forward for this job, Klaus?” I growled through clenched teeth, watching him slurp coffee and chew through cheese and ham. In the background was his Swiss Alps getaway, only pine trees dulling the panorama of his lush, glass house.
    “Still doubting yourself? What have I told you about that?” The bloody ass tittered. “Just be mindful. Kincaid has a lot of gossip surrounding him.”
    Why did I feel I wasn’t in control of my fate anymore? Was I a talking point for some PR stunt? What the fuck was going on?
    “I’ll tell everyone you’re a filthster if I discover you’ve been underhand. You know I never wanted this job. You know that.” It was true, to some extent. I never would have gone for it otherwise. I’d gotten it so easily—they’d even let me do the interview over Skype. It was brief, too. Very brief. All because Klaus told his friend Ash that he absolutely had to hire me. “I don’t feel comfortable. I am out of my depth.”
    “Now, Chloe. Have more faith. You’re running still… just stop. Be the woman you know you are.” He giggled excitedly, but I frowned. “Have a good day now, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
    He hung up.
    The devil.
    I did some more internet searching only to discover that in the US, Kincaid was a target for gossip. Not only because of his moneyed family—but because his aunt was the editor of one very famous fashion magazine. I got bored of the ‘IS HE GAY?’ gossip columns… yet wanted to hit something.

    ON the walk to work many sick, twisted little thoughts disturbed my mind. I almost broke into a sprint to stop myself getting too irate. Klaus headed up an umbrella media and communications company called Häuser Publications and was constantly absorbing lots of smaller ventures to expand his larger one. I met him during a meet-and-greet back at the Telegraph , when he’d been sniffing around while considering a potential takeover bid—which he’d eventually won, of course. The downside was that the Telegraph had become an online-only publication and many were made redundant or given