Archer's Way
Page 1
Mystical Signs: Sagittarius
ARCHER’S WAY
BY
AVA McKNIGHT
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ARCHER’S WAY
Copyright © 2006 by Ava McKnight
ISBN: 1-59836-413-8
Cover Art © 2006 by Ravencrest Images
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.
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Chapter One
As far as scandals went, the one Kate Perry had just found herself embroiled in was a doozie. No doubt her fall from grace would be immortalized for all of time. CNN broke the news early this morning, and now Kate’s photo—the one Archer Enterprise’s PR guru had snapped of her at last year’s Winter Solstice Gala—accompanied the “Breaking News” segment on every TV station she flipped to.
There she was, all pearly white smile, her long blonde hair piled on top of her head in an elaborate cascade of shiny curls. She was dressed to the nines in a designer gown that was the perfect shade of red. The sparkly, spaghetti-strapped bodice, which accented her full breasts, gave way to a long satin skirt that had just the right amount of flare to it. Elegant, yet…racy at the same time. Funny how that latter descriptor had never entered her mind when she’d bought the dress.
Nor had she stood in front of the mirror six months ago—as she’s surveyed herself from every angle before she’d left for the gala—and thought she looked sexy.
Sophisticated and polished, yes. Sexy, no.
But clearly, the rest of the world saw her that way, particularly given her scandalous predicament. The news anchors were now referring to Archer Enterprise’s youngest up-and-comer as provocative. A word Kate had never wanted associated with her. Especially when related to her professional life.
She was smart enough to know, though, that the media would sensationalize her involvement with the prominent Chief Financial Officer of Archer Enterprises, who’s smiling face was right next to her in that now infamous photo.
“Sex sells,” she muttered in disgust.
Picking up the remote, she switched channels and there she was again. Standing next to a twenty-foot, elegantly decorated Christmas tree, with Kenneth McDugan, III at her side.
Kate narrowed her eyes at the photo that remained on screen. “Seriously. A man is dead and all you can talk about is an ‘alleged’ affair that you can’t even confirm? And what? Nothing more newsworthy has happened in San Francisco—or the world—today? This is insane!”
She threw her arms up in the air in shock and dismay as the newscaster continued to weave a sordid tale of the “morally defunct executives who had deeply scarred the pristine image and once solid reputation of the Fortune 50 company, Archer Enterprises.”
“Oh, for the love of God.”
She snapped off the TV and dropped the remote on the coffee table in her living room. Crossing to the enormous, open kitchen that occupied a good third of her loft, she reached for the bottle of Meritage she’d uncorked half an hour ago when she’d first discovered she was the star of the five o’clock news.
She’d yet to pour a glass, but now was definitely the time for a little fortification. Sliding a wine glass from the rack that hung over a portion of the granite counter, she filled it to the rim and started to drink. Maybe if she got good and drunk it would salve the sting of her professional—and personal—mudslide.
But even as she settled onto a tall barstool and continued to sip, she knew alcohol wasn’t the answer. Sure, it may help to curb her anger, but that would certainly be the extent of its therapeutic effects. Just as she knew the media would beat this story to a bloody pulp, she also knew that nothing could save her from this horrific fall from grace. No amount of wine could soften the blow or make her feel less vulnerable.
Kate had never drowned her sorrows in a bottle before and, despite the fact that she desperately wanted to this time, she knew she had to face the music.
That meant walking into John Archer’s office tomorrow morning and delivering her resignation.
Emotion instantly welled inside Kate. Tears threatened her eyes.
Goddamn it.
She had worked so long and so hard, and this was how her rise to the top was going to end? By being labeled Kenneth McDugan’s mistress? A conniving corporate ladder climber?
Or worse…the slut who’d tainted the immaculate image of Archer Enterprises.
Unable to control them, tears flowed down her hot cheeks. If only there was some truth to the lies, to the wretched things being said about her. Then she could slink off to a far corner and hide. Just Kate and her endless amounts of shame and disgrace.
But the fact was, there wasn’t a shred of truth to the tale of infidelity the media wove.
Admittedly, the evening news anchors reported an accurate assessment of what had happened last night at the Fairmont. Kate really had accompanied Kenneth to his regular suite at the prestigious hotel following a business dinner at the restaurant downstairs. She really had been with him at two o’clock this morning. And, she really had been the one to dial 911 when he’d suffered a massive coronary and died.
Right there in his suite, in her arms.
But, contrary to all reports and public opinion, Kate Perry had not been having an affair with Kenneth McDugan, III. Nor had she intended to ever engage in sexual relations with the man. He was her boss. Her mentor. Her friend.
Nothing more.
Yet, the rest of the world had instantly jumped to the conclusion that Kate had been in his hotel room last night because they were embroiled in a hot, elicit affair.
The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. She sucked down another big gulp of expensive wine, hoping like hell it would somehow chase away the nasty aftertaste of being the star of this year’s top sex scandal.
It didn’t.
In fact, all Kate felt was rage and sorrow. A difficult combination to reconcile. On the one hand, she wanted to run out into the street and scream at the top of her lungs that everyone was wrong about her. She wanted to crash a local newscast, commandeer the microphone and explain to the American people that she was not a whore. That she had never once had an affair with a married man, let alone one who had five beautiful children and a doting wife at home.
She had not, at any time during her six years of working with Ken, become sexually involved with him. Nor had he ever encouraged her to.
Ken had never come onto her. He’d never said anything suggestive or inappropriate. He’d never even given the impression that he was interested in her sexually.
But who the fuck would believe her?
Conversely, she wanted very much to crawl under the covers and bury her head. She wanted to weep for a week. She wanted to ignore all the horrible, wretched things being said about her.
About her and Ken.
Above all else, she wanted to have the time to mourn her loss. Ken had meant the world to her. He’d been kind and compassionate, and she deserved a little peace from the world, some time to mou
rn his passing.
Unfortunately, that would not happen for her.
Kate set aside the glass she’d nearly downed.
Time was of the essence. She had but a small window of opportunity to state her case. To defend herself. To prove that she wasn’t the harlot… the home wrecker… the whore… the world now thought her to be.
To hell with the news reporters. She had one person to convince of the truth.
One chance to redeem herself.
One chance to save hers and Ken’s reputations.
Snatching her purse from the hallway table, she left her loft and took the elevator to the private underground garage that, thankfully, was monitored by a professional company. Luckily, no reporters had breached security. Yet.
Slipping into the leather seat of her sporty Mercedes convertible, she backed out of her reserved space and raced out of the garage. It was Sunday night, but she knew the person she needed to see would be in the office. He’d left two email messages on her Blackberry and one message on her voice mail today. He was waiting for her to come to him, she knew it. She could feel it deep in her bones.
And despite the fact that he likely wouldn’t believe a word she uttered, Kate knew there was only one person who had to hear the truth.
Directly from her mouth to his ears.
John Archer.
Chapter Two
John Archer hated two things in life. Losing and being wrong about someone he’d hired.
This weekend, both of those loathsome things had happened to him.
First, he’d lost the best senior executive Archer Enterprises had ever had the good fortune to employ. Kenneth McDugan, III had been a Godsend from the beginning. Smart, determined, motivated, driven. He’d been with Archer, personally, for eleven years, ever since John had taken the reigns of the company in his own hands, following his father’s untimely demise. Back then, at the age of twenty-three, Archer had been an extremely young and inexperienced Chief Executive Officer. Ken had stood by his side every step of the way.
Archer had practically grown up in his father’s office, so he’d had the knowledge base to step into his father’s shoes. Sure, he’d had to grow up fast and learn how to convey his authority without stepping on the toes of the seasoned, older executives. But his father had been grooming him since Archer could walk, and taking over the company had come naturally for him.
Not that he hadn’t experienced his fair share of setbacks and obstacles along the way. But he was an Archer… and all Archer’s possessed the diligence and inner strength to overcome even the most difficult of challenges.
He persevered, no matter what.
This weekend, however, he’d encountered something he’d never anticipated. Of all the unexpected, sordid situations to find himself in… John Archer had never, in a million years, believed he would have to deal with the kind of bullshit that now threatened his company’s stellar reputation.
Just thinking of the sex scandal that rocked the very foundation of his organization made him irrational. Annoyed beyond all belief.
Pushing a hand through his dark brown hair, which was likely disheveled from the past ten times he’d raked a hand through it in a restless manner, he tried to get a grip on his emotions. But it was moot, he knew. Archer was half out of his mind over the news that had broke early this morning.
Kate Perry—the woman he’d recruited two years before she’d even graduated Princeton, for Christ’s sake—and Ken Dugan, his father’s hand-picked CFO, who had been with the company for nearly thirty years, had been having an affair.
An affair!
Right under his nose!
Goddamn it!
He stalked over to the wet bar in his spacious, opulent office on the thirty-third floor of the Archer Building in San Francisco’s Financial District and set about mixing a batch of vodka martinis. He was in need of a little fortification, though to be perfectly honest, Archer couldn’t say what vexed him the most.
Was it the fact that Kate and Ken had been an item and he hadn’t even known about it?
Admittedly, Archer made it a point to know everything that went on in his company, and it did not sit well with him that something so scandalous had occurred right under his nose and he hadn’t had the vaguest idea it was going on.
Or, was he beside himself with jealousy that Ken had been sleeping with Kate when Archer had been fantasizing about her for the past eight years?
From the first day he’d met her at a career event at Princeton, when she was a twenty-year-old junior, Archer had been captivated by the beautiful woman who’d been valedictorian of her graduating class.
Of course, Kate had no idea of Archer’s fascination with her. And that’s exactly how it should be. He was her boss.
Still. It rubbed him raw to know that she’d gone against all the principles he’d been certain she held fast to by having an office affair. With a married man, no less.
But what really drove him to the edge of sanity was knowing she’d chosen Ken over him. A man twenty-five years her senior, for Christ’s sake.
As he gulped down his first martini, a soft rap on his open office door drew his attention. Setting his glass aside, Archer glanced over his shoulder.
The vision behind him jolted him. Standing in the doorway, looking lost and completely inconsolable was Kate Perry. She wore jeans, a white Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and stylish black boots. Her long, pale blonde hair was pulled back, the loose curls secured at the nape of her neck.
Kate’s usually vibrant green eyes were clouded and the whites were bloodshot, as though she’d been crying all day. Chances were good that she had been. The dark circles under her puffy eyes told him she hadn’t gotten any sleep since this horrific ordeal had begun.
She opened her mouth to say something, but when his phone began to ring, her full lips pressed together. Archer had never seen her without lip gloss. Something about her bare pink lips made him think of nothing else but kissing her. She had the kind of lush mouth any sane, hot-blooded man would fantasize about. It was meant for kissing…and so much more.
Christ, Archer. Now’s not the time to be thinking about Kate’s mouth on your dick.
Thoroughly disgusted with himself—and his overactive libido where Kate Perry was concerned—he reached for his martini and slammed the rest of it. He filled two glasses and then turned to her.
His phone continued to ring, as it had been doing since the scandal broke. Archer ignored this call, as he’d done all the others. He paid his vice president of Public Relations a small fortune to handle crises such as these.
Not that Nolan Short had ever had to worry about crisis management where Archer Enterprises was concerned. The unexpected death of Archer’s father years ago was the most devastating thing to happen to the company thus far. Archer, and his father before him, was much too civic-minded and professionally responsible to warrant a negative backlash of any orientation from the public.
Until now…
Lifting one of the glasses in the air, he said, “You look like you could use one of these.”
She studied him a moment, then, ignoring his offering, asked, “You’re just going to let your phone ring?”
Archer had been fielding calls all day. He’d already met with his board twice via conference calls, and he’d composed a brief yet eloquent email to his employees that would be waiting for them in their inboxes tomorrow morning.
He knew the calls he received this afternoon were from reporters, and he had no desire to talk to any of them.
“I have a press conference scheduled for ten tomorrow. Nolan has advised the media that I’ll speak to this…incident…at that time.”
“Incident?” She smirked. “Interesting terminology.”
He crossed to his large, glass-topped desk and set both martinis on the corner. With a gesture of his hand, he invited her into his office. She hedged, seemingly reluctant to enter his domain. Several tense moments ticked by, but Kate event
ually conceded, as he knew she would. She’d sought him out, after all. And besides, the Kate Perry he knew never backed down, especially when she had a stand to take.
Entering his office and closing the door behind her, she slowly made her way toward him. The guarded look on her beautiful face intensified, and her chest suddenly rose and fell a bit faster, as though her breathing had quickened the moment she’d decided to meet him head on.
Again, he motioned to the martini he’d poured for her. When she reached his desk, she said, “I think I’ve caused enough of a fervor today. If anyone were to come in and see us having martinis together, your face would join mine and Ken’s on the evening news.”
Archer scowled. “What I do in my office is my business, no one else’s. Besides,” he said as he reached for his glass and took a sip. “No one else is here. And I’ve got a legion of security personnel in place to ensure it stays that way.”
Kate eyed the martini he’d offered, then reached for it. After taking a long sip, she said, “If only this would take the edge off. Or salve the sting. But…” She shook her head, took another sip, as though eternally optimistic that the alcohol would do exactly as she’d wished.
“At the very least,” he said, “It’ll settle your nerves.”
Her eyes lifted from her glass and their gazes locked. “I’m not nervous. I’m…pissed. Upset and angry. But not nervous. I have nothing to be nervous about, John. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Archer could bluff the best of them, but he knew his look was one of pure shock. Her words caught him completely off guard, and he knew his expression not only conveyed his surprise, it also reflected his disbelief in her.
He knew it by the return look she gave him. Disappointment and betrayal wreaked havoc on her lovely features.
Setting the glass back on the desk, she planted her hands on her slim hips and said, “You believe the bullshit they’re saying about me and Ken on the news? You really think…?” Her voice trailed off. She let out a harsh breath and nearly doubled over, as though he’d just delivered a physical blow to her midsection. Straightening, she glared at him and said, “Of all people, I thought you would be on my side. I thought for sure you would at least question what was being said. Even if you weren’t sure, I thought you would at least give me the benefit of the doubt. Allow me to explain.”