No Going Back
No Going Back
By
Ainsley Kincade
No Going Back
Written by Ainsley Kincade
Copyright © Ainsley Kincade 2016
Cover Design Blank Page Design shop
Published by Ainsley Kincade
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.
Printed in the U.S.A.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Dedication
For my husband, who supports all my crazy ideas.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
ONE
Imminent Failure
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Gabriel. I don’t know how I managed to screw this up,” Ben said. The anguish in his voice reminded me he was a nineteen-year-old kid I’d dumped a ton of responsibility onto, and my anger came down a few notches.
I knew exactly how he’d managed to double book my schedule for the evening. I had told him to do whatever it took to get Brandon Frere to sit down with me to negotiate him coming to work for the magazine. And Ben had done it, booking a dinner meeting with him the only time that pain in the ass photographer would agree to. Ben said yes, on the fly, without thinking to make sure I didn’t already have plans. Normally, I’d cancel whatever else I had going on to entertain a client or potential, highly sought after new hire. Old friend who drove me insane at times, or not. There was no way out of my original dinner plans.
Why the fuck is Brandon only available tonight, of all nights? I shook my head, suspecting he was playing games again and wanting to call his bluff, but unwilling to do so for fear of losing the chance to hire him. I knew he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of commercializing his work.
Trying not to snap at Ben, I ran a hand down my face and stared out my office window to the row of cubicles all but the managers worked in. My gaze zeroed in on Reagan, as it often did. She was leaning against a cubicle, instead of in her office, her long blonde hair pulled up into a haphazard ponytail that was almost too unprofessional for work, but too much to my liking to say anything to her about it.
I encouraged a relaxed work environment, but she almost took it too far with her worn jeans, and t-shirts that were aggravatingly two sizes too big. She was a manager, after all, a damn good one. Yet, she dressed as though she were another intern running around the office. It drove me insane, but never failed to excite me when I saw her walk by my office, distracted and lost in thought.
The day she’d shown up for her interview in black twill pants, a loose cotton blouse, and a linen jacket that looked more like something you’d wear on a casual lunch date than what a potential manager would wear to interview at a highbrow magazine, I’d doubted she would measure up to her résumé. Talking to her for five minutes proved she did, more so than I’d imagined. When my boss, Marie, asked if Reagan was in my top three candidates after her interview, I’d said no, but hadn’t shared the reason.
Marie, who dressed to the nines in every situation, had only nodded, and I knew she’d disapproved of Reagan’s clothing choices as well. That hadn’t been the reason for my initial rejection. The bright smile, energetic answers, and warm personality had played more of a part. The fact that I’d been instantly attracted to her as soon as she walked into my office, even more so for her interesting style, had been the main reason.
I knew that sounded sexist, and had never voiced it aloud. Eventually, I’d forced myself to admit she was the best candidate, and that I would have to work with her every fucking day without once acting on my desires if I were truly going to do what was best for the magazine. It wasn’t that Marie would care if I did act. She’d had office flings over the years, despite company policy discouraging it. It was that I cared. I didn’t think office romances were a good idea, but even if I had been amenable to the idea, I certainly wasn’t going to go after and sleep with a twenty-four-year-old girl I’d just hired. That was a year ago.
“Sir?” Ben asked hesitantly, probably worried I was about to fire him.
Sighing, I knew my best option to fix the situation with Brandon, but didn’t like the idea of taking it. Hiring Reagan hadn’t put an end to wanting her in my bed, which I was clearly being reminded of by the ache below my belt. It had spawned a plan, however, one that wasn’t in place quite yet. I had no choice but to speed things up.
“Will you please ask Reagan if she’ll meet with me sooner than we’d planned?” I asked Ben. “Now, in fact.”
When I turned to face him, he was eyeing me in confusion but, as usual, shrugged after a moment and scurried off to do my bidding. Although I appreciated his eagerness to please, it occasionally made him act before thinking. Then I was left trying to undo his mistakes. I’d realized when I’d hired him six months ago that would likely be the price of an enthusiastic young mind eager to work in this area of publishing, but there were days I didn’t enjoy the headaches.
Moving back to my desk, I sank into it. The day was only half over, but I suspected I would need a few drinks by the end of it. I watched from the corner of my eye as Ben attempted to talk to Reagan without either ogling her or grinning stupidly the entire time. A flash of jealousy reared in me before I quickly buried it. He adored Reagan, but she never encouraged him nor responded to his boyish flirting with more than a polite smile. Plus, Ben had no idea of my carefully controlled interest in her. If he did, he’d never even think of attempting to move toward her.
Not many of the handful of interns we employed knew my name outside of the magazine. It had surprised me when Ben recognized me. Although it stroked my ego a little to know I hadn’t been completely forgotten, I sometimes grew tired of his endless need to live up to some warped hero worship he seemed to have for me. He was certainly not the person I hoped would be putting their full focus on me. Reagan, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more oblivious. I felt myself react when she handed Ben a few folders and smiled at him.
When Ben darted away from her, she turned in my direction and started for the office. Bringing my computer back to life, I pushed away thoughts of what pleasure I could bring to her that would elicit so much more than a sweet smile, and brought up the email she’d sent me earlier. We had things to discuss aside from my botched dinner plans, and I needed to get through those before I threw her to the wolves. Or, more accurately, one very talented, yet extremely manipulative wolf.
***
Mr. Gabriel’s touch wasn’t meant to be sexual. Even if I wished it had been. He reached out to stop me, needing to tell me one more thing before I left his office. He’d touched me before in similar ways, but my reaction made his fingers linger
on my skin. His head tilted to one side as he considered the way I’d frozen, the quiet gasp that had escaped my lips. He had no idea what thoughts had been running through my head as I’d stood to leave, how I’d been sitting in front of him for half an hour, listening to him give me comments on layout mockups as he barely looked away from his computer screen, wishing he’d keep talking forever because the sound of his voice made my skin hum.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Gabriel. You just startled me. I was thinking and didn’t see you reach out.” I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Afraid avoiding his gaze would make me look weak or reveal my thoughts, I maintained eye contact, passive yet interested in his response. It was something I had perfected in the year since I’d started working for him.
Mr. Gabriel shook his head. “It was my fault for being so abrupt. I just had one other thing I needed from you.”
My eyebrows rose. Whatever he needed from me, I knew I would be disappointed. He would never need anything more from me than tear sheets, photo blueprints, or proofs. Still, I asked. “Yes?”
“Dinner,” Mr. Gabriel said.
Words stuck in my throat. For a brief, insane second, I thought he was asking me to dinner. Then logic returned to the world and I became confused. “You want me to order your dinner?”
I tried hard to keep the hint of insult from my voice. I wasn’t his intern. I was a graphic designer in charge of print layout and image acquisition. He’d always given me respect for my abilities and work ethic. At a loss as to where his request was coming from, I held back on saying anything else.
Seeming distracted, he looked up at me as if he’d forgotten we’d been speaking to each other. “What? No, I’m sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment. No, of course not. That’s Ben’s job.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I apologize. My thoughts are in a million different places today.”
I eyed him, but didn’t say anything. He often became forgetful and distracted as we approached the print deadline. He seemed a little worse than usual. “Dinner?” I finally asked.
“Yes, dinner.” He squared his shoulders and focused on me. “I was supposed to meet with a photographer the magazine is interested in adding as full time staff, but somehow Ben managed to double book my dinner appointments tonight and I need you to go in my place.”
Staring at him, I tried to hide my disbelief and act as though it weren’t a huge request. I was the most junior manager, and completely caught off guard. Judging by the fact that I couldn’t breathe and my eyebrows had climbed to my hairline, I doubted I was doing a very good job of pretending at confidence. Mr. Gabriel’s amused smile confirmed it.
“Can’t you just reschedule?” I asked, cringing at the fear in my voice, instead of pride that he would trust me with something like this. At the very least, I should have been able to manage eagerness to prove my worth. Even that was illusive.
“You can handle this,” he said. A smile played on his lips, and I couldn’t tell if he was trying to be encouraging or laughing at me. “You know what type of photographer we’re looking for when it comes to the instructional section, what our requirements are, and what we expect from our photographers. He’s done piece work for us before, but he’s one of three top candidates for the full time staff position. You’d be working with him on a regular basis, more closely than I will, so I want your opinion.”
“But, you’re the one who has to hire someone, not me,” I said, insecurity bleeding through with every word.
Mr. Gabriel shifted, sitting on the edge of his desk and crossing his arms over his broad chest. He never wore his suit jacket in his office when not in a meeting, and had unbuttoned the top two buttons at some point before I’d arrived for our review. His positioning pulled at the fabric, hinting at the strong body beneath the buttons. My fingers tightened on the binder in my hand. Which did nothing to quell my desire to run my fingers over his chest.
“I’m not doing the hiring. I’ll recommend my top choice to Marie, but she’ll make the final decision.”
“How can you make the recommendation if I’m the one who meets with the photographer?” I asked.
“Because I trust your opinion. You wouldn’t be as successful as you have been here if you weren’t capable.” His gaze met mine and held it, threatening to scatter my thoughts. “I’ve seen his portfolio and have known him for years, but like I said, he’ll be dealing with you directly. I want to be sure you’re comfortable working with him.”
For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed. I tensed, wondering if his thoughts had gone to the same place mine had. It was difficult to forget the crushing embarrassment of being singled out by one of the previous staff photographers shortly after I’d been hired. My work experience prior to the magazine had been with textbook production. I’d never worked with a photographer, so when he’d asked me what ISO and f-stop I preferred he used, I had no answer at all.
He’d ridiculed my lack of knowledge in front of the models and other staff who worked under me. It hadn’t mattered that the question was ridiculous, because those were decisions he needed to make to ensure proper depth of field and exposure, and had nothing to do with me. He’d been against Mr. Gabriel hiring me because I was young and a woman, and he didn’t intend to take orders from either. Having accomplished his goal of ruining my status with the staff, he’d dismissed me and gone back to his work without realizing Mr. Gabriel had been watching from the hallway.
We’d been piecing out most of the photography work for the instructional section ever since.
“Reagan,” he said, pulling my attention back to the conversation, “I could really use your help with this. I can’t miss my other dinner meeting, and Brandon Frere is only in town for a few days over the next several weeks. I’d like to get him into the studio before he leaves for a location shoot. Marie is resisting me on this, but Brandon is a better choice and I need to push her to quit dragging her feet by having him do a test shoot.”
Scaling back my nerves over handling something that could impact the magazine so profoundly, I focused on his confidence in me and nodded. “Okay. Fine. Just tell me when and where.”
The smile he gave me brought heat to my core. He should have just done that from the beginning. Reaching out, he retrieved his phone from the top of his desk. “I’ll have Ben send the details. I believe the reservation was for Brie, so if you need to change before you go, feel free to borrow something from the model wardrobe.”
Glancing down at my jeans and plaid button down, I grimaced. Mr. Gabriel often wore a suit to work when he knew he had meetings with upper management or clients, but had always encouraged his staff to keep things casual. If he was going to expect me to step in for things like this in the future, maybe I needed to step up my wardrobe.
“There’s a green dress Emily brought in yesterday that would be perfect. I’ll have her bring it up,” Mr. Gabriel said in an offhand manner that belied his specificity.
“Oh, okay.”
My odd tone brought his gaze up from his phone screen. He stared at me for a moment before frowning. “Not that you have to wear that particular dress,” he said. “I apologize if that came off as demanding. I just remembered the dress from meeting with her yesterday and thought it would be appropriate for Brie. Please, wear whatever you feel most comfortable in.”
“No,” I said quickly, “I appreciate the recommendation. I’ve only ever passed by Brie. I don’t know what the dress code is. I was just surprised you bothered to make the suggestion, I guess.”
Mr. Gabriel hesitated a moment before setting his phone back on his desk and standing. “You’ve only been here a year, but you’ve become a very important part of the team. You’re a fast learner and have an eye for design that goes beyond fluid layout in the print magazine. I think you’re ready for more, but only if you want it.”
He stood closer than usual, our bodies pushed together by the arrangement of the furniture and my abrupt halt on the way out. I swore
I could feel his body heat at that distance, and felt my own rise in response. “I do want more,” I said more quietly than such a firm statement should have demanded.
“Good.” A slow smile spread across his lips, the kind that begged me to lick mine. I didn’t. I had that much composure, at least. Mr. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice my floundering and continued. “If you can convince Brandon to come in tomorrow, studio three is available. We haven’t been able to contract out the article on lighting and skin tone. Use that as a test run. I want to be able to take the proofs to Marie to make my case for hiring him over the other two candidates.”
I nodded, shoving down any doubts. If Mr. Gabriel thought I could handle this, I would. He was not only one of the best bosses I’d ever had, he was intelligent and a good judge of talent. If he wanted Brandon Frere, I would do whatever he needed to make sure Marie agreed with him. “I’ll take care of everything.”
His answering grin made my grip on the binder tighten even more. “I knew I could count on you.” Pulling away from his desk, he waved at one of the copy editors walking past his office. He turned back to me with an apologetic expression. “I don’t mean to throw you out, but I need to talk to Camden about some changes in the featured artist section.”
“Oh, of course,” I said. I was actually thankful for a reason to leave the office and make an attempt at getting my head back together. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
“Call me after your meeting with Brandon.”
I nodded and escaped to the hallway as Camden held the door for me. Their conversation began before the door swung closed. Taking in a deep breath, I willed my thoughts to coalesce. Mr. Gabriel was trusting me to do this right. He wanted to give me more responsibilities, groom me for something better. Letting him down wasn’t an option.
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