Page 2 of Swing and a Little Miss

The fluorescent lights were too bright, the incessant chatter from the sales floor was too loud, and my patience was way too thin.

When I was working at home, everything was different. I had control and a sense of order. Balance. Dominance just came naturally to me. That served me well in the club or with a partner, but at work, it was starting to be frustrating for me and everyone else. Professionally, I was a hardass who only cared about bringing in the next sale.

But that was a very small and insignificant part of my life. The much bigger and more important part was the one that allowed my caring and nurturing side to break free. The part where being a Daddy Dom was appreciated and respected. But here, in this sea of whining sales reps and their never-ending list of excuses, I was just Royce Elliot, head of sales and herder of cats.

"Royce, you've got another meeting with Abby from Marketing." Jocelyn wasn’t a fan of Miss Abby Kern either. Not because Abby had actually done anything wrong, but Jocelyn could sense that Abby frustrated the fuck out of me.

My eyes narrowed at the calendar pop-up that suddenly appeared on my computer screen. My life revolved around meetings, meetings, and more meetings—all thanks to the cute little marketing girl who seemed to think “level-setting” would magically fix everything.

Abby had decent ideas, but she didn't understand how the real world worked. She wasn't in the trenches with us, trying to hit numbers with a team that changed faces faster than a revolving door. No sooner did they learn our products before they were being recruited away by a competitor. Abby’s sales tools and play books were nice, but they weren’t enough to help us make our number.

Despite that, I had to respect her tenacity. That girl took my shit and didn’t complain, even though I could see a hint of a brat hiding in her eyes.

With a smirk, I clicked decline on the invite, an act of rebellion that felt as satisfying as it was petty. I needed to focus on my team. We were busy getting sales to keep the company afloat. Marketing could figure out their own damn jobs.

Was the day over yet?

"Hey, Royce.” Daniel peeked into my office, leaning on the door frame. “What's the deal with the Peterson account?"

"Same as last time you asked." I mentally counted to three before looking up at him. He was a sales engineer who did a good job demoing our products and answering tech questions,but he had no idea about all that went into actually closing a deal. It was more than just impressing one or two people on a Zoom meeting. We had to jump through legal, accounting, and sometimes regulatory hoops just to be considered for some contracts. "If we need you to get on another call, I’ll let you know.”

He caught my eye and nodded. “Yeah, of course. Just trying to do my part.”

Fuck. Now I felt bad. “I know. And you’ve been instrumental in getting us this far. I really appreciate you, Daniel.”

He smiled cautiously like it was the first nice thing I’d ever said to him. Was it? “Well, I’m heading out, but you know how to reach me if you need me.”

I nodded as he backed away, then I turned to my email. Jocelyn usually went through it and cleaned out my inbox, but she had been busy with some reports, so I was stuck with the drudgery. I was about to do a mass delete when one subject line caught my eye.

"Marketing and Sales Synergy."

I almost laughed at her persistence. That girl didn’t take fuck no for an answer. Synergy of what, exactly? Discontent?

Abby's email was so neutral, Switzerland would be impressed. She must have busted out her best AI prompt to get it to be completely professional without attitude. But I could still feel the snark she snuck in there. I was tempted to fire off something passive aggressive…or just aggressive. But that would indicate I cared.

And I didn’t.

"Royce, have you seen Abby's—" Jocelyn stopped short when I held up my hand.

"Yep, just saw it." With a few keystrokes, I did my best to make it clear that I had neither the time nor the interest in her synergy shit. I had real work to do. "How does this sound?My team is focused on their sales quota. Proceed as you see fit.” I glanced up at Jocelyn and smiled. “Short and to the point?”

She laughed. “Diplomatic without being rude. Expect a counter attack.”

I smirked, almost looking forward to seeing what she came back with. “Let her.”

“I’ve got to run down to the mailroom for a bit. You need anything before I go?” Jocelyn came in and peeked into the empty mug on my desk. “A refill?”

I pushed back from my desk and arched my back. “Nah, I’ll go get it. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

The break room was a place where the chaos of the broader office was subdued. Corporate enemies could laugh and joke around in there. Snacks were shared and shit-talking was all good-natured. It was a safe space.

After rinsing out my mug, I poured myself a fresh cup of the dark roast I liked and sucked in a big whiff of steam. “Mmm.” I turned to leave, but something caught my eye across the room. A head popped up from behind a cubicle and a pair of baby-blue eyes locked with mine.Abby.

Her gaze was level, and there was a sharpness to her eyes that made it clear she’d read my email. “Excuse me, Royce.” Abby was pretty as all hell, and it was fucking annoying because shewas almost exactly my type. The kind of challenge I craved at home but who complicated things at work. If she had a trace of submissiveness in her, she'd be perfect. But Abby was all sass. Tempting sass, but sass nonetheless.

“Yes.” I took a long sip of my coffee, letting the bitterness douse my smirk.

She clasped her hand in front of her waist and cocked her head. “I found an open spot tomorrow that works for your entire team, so I went ahead and booked the meeting for then. I know you were worried about finding time, but we’ll keep it quick.”

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