This Valentine's Day, Cupid will take no prisonersโฆ
Carol Snow picked up the cartoonish card sitting on her
assistant's desk that featured the celebrated cherub
wearing fatigues, with bow and arrow at the ready. She idly
opened the card to glance at the message inside.
So your best strategy is to surrender. A white flag
waved feebly in the background. The name "Stan" was
scrawled across the bottom.
Carol frowned and turned over the valentine, not wholly
surprised to discover it was a product of the company she
worked for, Mystic Touch Greeting Cards. Stan must also be
an employee. She set the card back on the cluttered desk,
rankled by the cheerful sentimentality. Thank goodness she
didn't have to work on the creative side of the business
and be surrounded by that inane fluff all day.
Carol leveled an irritated glance in the direction of her
assistant Tracy who had her back turned, whispering low into
the phone, where, as far as Carol could tell, was how the
young woman had spent most of her day. Carol rolled her
eyesโa new boyfriend, no doubt. Probably Stan, the guy
who'd sent the valentine. Tamping down her growing
frustration, Carol glanced at her watchโat this rate,
she'd be late for the monthly meeting of the Red Tote
Book Club.
She cleared her throat meaningfully. Tracy cupped her hand
over the mouthpiece of the phone and turned in her chair,
her face lined with trepidation. "Yes, Ms. Snow?"
"I need to talk to you about this project before I
leave."
"Okay."
Carol pursed her mouth at the woman's pause. "And I
need to leave now."
Tracy glanced at the clock. "But it's only sixโฆ you
usually stay until eight or nine."
Carol stiffened at the woman's tone that smacked of an
indictment on her personal life. "Not tonight."
"Are you sick?"
Carol frowned. "No. Would you please hang up so we can
talk?"
Tracy uncovered the mouthpiece and murmured something low
before returning the handset to the receiver.
"What's up?"
Carol bit down on the inside of her cheek.
"What's up is this memo for the quarterly
report. It's riddled with typos." She handed over
the piece of paper where she'd circled the errors with a
red marker.
Tracy bit her lip. "Oh. I'll redo it."
"I want a clean version on my desk when I arrive
tomorrow morning," Carol chided.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Tracy? You've been spending a lot of time on
the phoneโthat puts both of us behind."
The young woman nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."
Carol made a rueful noise, then retreated into her office.
Appointed with dark furniture, it was spacious and fitting
for the director of Finance. A box window provided a nice
view of the Atlanta skyline while leaving enough wall space
for the banks of extra wide file cabinets that lined the room.
She straightened her already tidy desk, then retrieved her
purse, briefcase and the red tote of books for her book club
meeting. When she strode past Tracy's desk, Carol gasped
in dismay to see the woman was on the phone again. Shaking
her head, Carol walked up to the elevator and stabbed the
button. Tracy was going to be sorely disappointed if she
continued to put her love life before her job.
Men. Could. Not. Be. Trusted.
Somebody in the creative department ought to put
that
sentiment on a Mystic Touch card.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a sole
occupant: Luke Chancellor, Director of Sales and resident
playboy. A grin spread over his handsome face. "Going
home early, Snow? You must have a hot date for a cold
Tuesday night."
Carol stuck her tongue in her cheekโshe was not in the mood
to be teased. "Actually, Chancellor, I've decided to
take the stairs."
She turned and stalked to the stairwell, ignoring the
man's booming laughter. Luke Chancellor was an
outrageous flirt who seemed to have made her his pet
project. In an effort to avoid him, Carol jogged down the
stairs as fast as her high heels would allow. When she
reached the lobby, she was relieved to see the elevator
hadn't yet arrived. Juggling the items in her arms, she
scooted out the front door of the office building and in the
direction of her car. If every traffic light between
Buckhead and downtown Atlanta was green, she
might make
it to the book club meeting on time.
"Hey, Carol!"
At the sound of Luke's voice behind her, Carol winced
and kept moving. But in her haste, her red stiletto heel
caught a raised edge on the sidewalk and she stumbled. Her
briefcase, book tote and purse went flying, and she flailed,
mentally bracing herself to hit the pavement hard. At the
last possible second, though, a pair of strong arms kept her
from falling flat on her face.
"I got you," Luke whispered in her ear like a warm
breeze in the February chill.
The scent of his earthy cologne curled into her lungs,
compromising her breathing. Her body distantly registered
the fact that his big hands were touching her, his fingers
burning into the skin of her shoulders and brushing her
breasts through the layers of her prim suit. Unbidden lust
shot through her midsection, reminding Carol how long it had
been since she'd been so close to a man. The alien
sensation jolted her into action.
"Let go of me," she said through gritted teeth,
pulling free of his grasp. She straightened and patted at
her clothing.
Luke's legendary mouth quirked into a half-smile.
"You're welcome," he said drily, then crouched
to gather her things from the ground.
He wore a mocha-colored suit that set off his dark hair and
brown eyes. A handful of red silk tie poked out of his
pocket, a stab at the formal corporate culture of the
company. The man was known for his casual management style
and practical jokes. Luke had come to Mystic Touch Greeting
Cards two years ago and had leapfrogged through the ranks
until he was now a peer of Carol's, a fellow director.
The feminist in her had wanted to cry foul on a couple of
his promotions, but admittedly, since his arrival, Luke had
been instrumental in turning around the flagging sales force.
With only a few days to go until their biggest card-selling
day of the yearโValentine's Dayโthe company was enjoying
record-breaking profits. As a numbers woman, she grudgingly
respected his accomplishments.
Feeling contrite, Carol stooped to help him with her things.
"Sorry," she murmured. "You startled me. Thank
you forโฆ catching me."
"No problem," he said easily. "I probably
distracted you when I yelled."
"Yes," she agreed, scooping up her purse and
briefcase. "What did you want, Luke? I'm late for my
book club."
"Whoa." He held up the books that had fallen out of
her tote bag and lay scattered on the sidewalk.
"Lady Chatterley's Lover? Venus in Furs? Fanny
Hill? The Slave?" A devilish grin split his face.
"What kind of book club do you belong to?"
Heat climbed her face. "None of your business."
He leaned in close. "Do you accept male members?"
His tone was innocent, but his eyes danced with mirth at the
double entendre.
Instead of responding, Carol tried to snatch the classic
erotic volumes, but he held them out of reach. Indignant
anger whipped through her. "What are you, ten years old?
Give me my books!"
He wagged his eyebrows as he perused the risquรฉ covers.
"I knew there was a wild side to you, Snow. You just
keep it all bottled up."
Exasperated, Carol realized the best way to diffuse him was
to deflect his attention. She crossed her arms. "What
did you want, Chancellor?"
As if to answer her question, his dark gaze flitted over her
appreciably, stirring up little flutters of awareness in its
wake. With great resolve, she managed to maintain a cool
expression of disdain.
Luke sighed and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay,
back to business. I thought it might be nice to have a
company party for Valentine's Day."
She squinted. "Valentine's Day?"
"Why not? We could have it Friday."
"Friday the thirteenth?"
He shrugged. "Close enough. Valentine's is a
significant sales day on our calendar. Plus a party would be
a good occasion to pass out bonusesโwhat do you think?"
"I think this company has never issued bonuses," she
chirped.
"Not in the past," he agreed. "But Mystic has
had such a good year, I thought it'd be fair to spread
the love, if you know what I mean. I'm sure the rest of
the directors would agree with me."
Ire shot through Carolโdoling out bonuses from money that
Luke was being given credit for bringing in almost
single-handedly would make him a bona fide hero in the eyes
of the five hundred or so employees. The man would be Chief
Executive Officer before the end of the yearโฆdammit.
Squaring her shoulders, she drew upon her most authoritative
voice. "In my opinion, the more prudent move for the
long-term health of the company is to take the profits we
make on good years and reinvest them in new technology."
His seemingly permanent grin never wavered. "In
my
opinion, you should skip your naughty book club and we
should discuss this over drinks."
The pull of his body on hers was unmistakable. His decadent
brown eyes were almost hypnotic, summoning her to follow him
anywhere. Her breasts pinged in response and her thighs
quickened. Her mouth opened and to her horror, she realized
she was on the verge of saying yes.
Carol's head snapped back. "That's not going to
happen." The words came out more forcefully than
she'd plannedโ for her own benefit? "We can discuss
the party and the bonuses at the directors' meeting in
the morningโwith an audience."
He frowned. "You're no fun."
She extended her hand, palm up, and wiggled her fingers.
"My books, please?"
He relinquished his hold as if they were favorite toys.
"I've never been second place to a book before."
"That you know of." Carol gave him a tight smile as
she slipped the erotic books inside the red tote bag.
"Goodbye, Chancellor." She turned and walked toward
her car, certain now that she'd be late for the book
club meeting because of the bothersome man.
"Instead of reading about life, you should try the real
thing sometime!" Luke called behind her.
Carol was tempted to turn and shoot him the bird, but,
mindful of their location and the curious stares they'd
already garnered from employees loitering in the parking
lot, she kept walking. She didn't want to keep the
members of the Red Tote Book Club waiting.
And she didn't want to give Luke Chancellor the
satisfaction of seeing the sudden tears his parting comment
had brought to her eyes.
EVERY traffic light between Carol's office and downtown
Atlanta was, not surprisingly, red. If it was the city's
idea of commemorating Valentine's Day, Carol thought
wryly, it was fitting that she was caught in the bottleneck.
As expected, she arrived late for the meeting of the Red
Tote Book Club.
So late, in fact, that she sat in the parking lot of the
branch of the Atlanta Public Library where the group met and
contemplated driving away. She glanced over at the box of
almond cookies sitting in the passenger seat that she'd
brought for the members to share and rationalized the
goodies would make her a fair dinnerโalmonds were chock-full
of fiberโฆweren't they? Considering what was waiting for
her inside, she was suddenly gripped with the compulsion to
drop out of the group altogether. The other women
wouldn't miss her. They might even be glad if she left.
They were probably sitting in there now, talking about her,
the rogue member who refused to go along with the experiment
their coordinator had suggested: That each member apply the
lessons they'd learned from the pages of the erotic
novels they'd read to seduce the man of their dreams.
The other women had embraced the challenge wholeheartedly.
She, on the other handโฆnot so much.
Her phone chimed and she looked down to see a text message
had arrived.
Are you stuck in traffic? We didn't want to start
without you. Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was the coordinator of the Red Tote Book Club.
Carol couldn't stop the relieved smile that curved her
mouthโthey did care. She quickly texted back that she'd
be there in a few minutes, then grabbed the box of cookies
and the red tote holding the precious books that had filled
her lonely evenings over the past few months. After exiting
her car, she jogged toward the entrance of the library.
Inside, she stopped to inhale the pungent scent of books and
absorb the pleasant hum of computers and lowered voices.
She'd been an avid reader most of her young life, but
had gotten away from pleasure reading as an adult. When
she'd seen the ad for the book club for women looking to
add a little spice to their reading life, she'd been
intrigued, if a little suspicious. But the group of women
who'd gathered on that first night were amazingly like
herโin their thirties, educated and single.
Except,
unlike her, they all seemed to be in the
market for a boyfriend or a lover, neither of which appealed
to her.
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