Mixed Signals

by Ivy Raine

Mixed Signals

  By Ivy Raine

  Copyright 2013 Ivy Raine

  Mixed Signals

  Ivy Raine

  Mixed Signals

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2013 Ivy Raine

  Cover art by Rowan Graphics © 2013

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  “Forget it!” Rachel pulled away from Susan’s grip. “That’s not for me.”

  “Don’t be such a baby, Rach. I’m not asking you to actually do anything. I just wanna check it out.”

  Rachel threw her head back, her long, black waves reaching nearly to her butt. “Every single time you get me into something, it goes wrong. Remember what happened when you just had to know what went on at a stripper’s convention?”

  Susan crossed her arms and raised a brow. “That was completely different. We were actually invited to this thing.”

  The thought of revisiting the inside of a jail cell made Rachel’s nerves crawl. “I don’t know. It all sounds a little on the shady side to me. What if we see someone we know?”

  Susan shrugged. “So what. If they’re there, do you really think they’re gonna spread it all around that they saw you there? Don’t think so. Besides, like I said. I’m just curious!”

  The childish glee that sparked in Susan’s eyes when she came up with these crazy schemes always amused Rachel – until she got caught up in the aftermath. “Oh, okay,” she managed to squeak out. “But if something goes wrong, you’re my next ex-friend.”

  “Sure. Like you haven’t said that before.”

  It was true. Rachel had unfriended Susan so many times she’d lost count. She let out a sigh of exasperation. Too many things could go wrong with her latest scheme to go to a swinger’s party.

  “And just what does one wear when they’re trying to attract someone else’s significant other?”

  “Just a smile.” Susan said it so seriously that Rachel actually believed her for a fraction of a second.

  “Oh, god, Susan! Can’t you ever be serious?”

  Susan laughed. “Take a good look, sister. My nose is too big in proportion to my face, my hair’s an odd shade of orange and I’ve been told I snore. What’ve I got to be serious about?”

  Rachel scrunched up her nose. “You do snore.”

  Susan grunted. “And you’d be the only one to know that considering the opposite sex must be allergic to me.” She ran her fingers down through Rachel’s silky locks. “This might be my last chance to ditch my virginity before I turn thirty. You wouldn’t want to deprive me, would you?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I said I’d go, didn’t I? Just let me know when this thing is so I can start planning.”

  Susan squealed and jumped up and down. “Tonight. I’ll meet you at your apartment around eight.”

  “Nothing like giving a girl some notice!”

  That was the only thing that truly bugged Rachel about her best friend since forever. She liked to do everything from the seat of her pants, a fact that made her being a virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-nine a serious numerological anomaly.

  Swingers. Rachel thought about them all the way to work that morning, scrutinizing each and every passenger as they lumbered onto and off of the bus. Is he a swinger? She eyed up a gorgeous hunk fit for a goddess and actually found herself looking forward to it – until his buddy came up from behind and gave him a tongue lashing right there for everyone to see. Why, oh why? With serious envy of the guy pal, Rachel pulled her eyes away from the hunk, and focused on a more realistic vision of what a swinger might be. Married, most likely. They always seem to be married. Or maybe he’s just bored with his girlfriend and convinced her to play along. Rachel stopped dead in mid-thought when she realized she had no one to trade off. Pulling out her cell, she punched in Susan’s number.

  “Yo! Don’t we have to have a date to go to this thing?” For a moment, there was silence on the other end. “Susan?”

  “Well…I kind of figured we’d take each other.”

  Rachel pulled the phone away from her face and looked to be sure she dialed the right number. “Say again?”

  “Yeah. We’ll just be each other’s date.”

  “Seriously? Wouldn’t that make us look a little-?”

  “Bi,” finished Susan. “I told them we were bi. Oh, they’re okay with it!” she added quickly. “They say they get them every once in a while.”

  “You make it sound like we’re a disease,” Rachel hissed into the phone. “Couldn’t you just tell them the truth?”

  “Oh, yeah. That would sound good. Hi! I’m Susan and I just can’t seem to attract a sweat bee let alone a man, and this is Rachel who’s sworn to castrate and impale everything within a hundred yards of her that happens to be sporting a penis. Can you see where I’m going with this? Besides. Who could you possibly invite as a date that wouldn’t spread it all around town? This is the kind of stuff guys write on bathroom walls. I can see it now: Call Susan and Rachel for a swinging good time.”

  Rachel groaned. “I see what you’re saying, but really, Susan. Now we’ll have to fend off the men and the women.”

  Susan laughed. “Who said anything about fending off the men?”

  “Oh, probably the same person who said they were just curious.”

  Silence again. “You’ve got a point,” Susan said at length, “but the eradication of my virginity has now become my life’s mission.”

  The bus pulled up in front of Stanley Enterprises. “I’ve gotta go, Susan. I’m at work. I’ll call you when I get off.”

  She ended the call, cutting off Susan’s lingering goodbyes. Gathering up her laptop, Rachel pulled down the back of her skirt and headed toward the entrance.

  “Good morning, Miss Peters.” The security guard reached over and fumbled with the badge hanging around her neck. He made it a morning habit of trying to grope her a little and Rachel had gotten pretty proficient at having her badge out and ready. Not this morning. She felt his finger ‘accidentally’ slip in the gap between the buttons on her blouse, grazing her right breast. He pretended it didn’t happen and quickly scanned her badge before dropping it back against her chest.

  “Thanks, Jake. Remind me to charge you next time. Or better yet, I’ll just send your wife the bill.”

  Jake just looked at her and grinned. Why did all the creeps have the same twisted smile? There was no way his wife could live with him and not know exactly what he was. Everyone who had half a brain knew he carried on with practically every secretary in the building at one time or another, and his latest target was Rachel.

  “Have a good day, Miss Peters.” He winked and pressed a button. The door slid open and practically sucked her into its vapor lock. Prisoner again, she thought.

  “You better hurry,” called a bleached blond from the front desk. “Mr. Stanley has been asking for you for almost twenty minutes.”

  “Screw him,” she grumbled. “Last time I checked, my schedule says eight-thirty.” She pointed up at the clock on the wall. “And it’s only eight-fifteen. Does he think I’m a robot?”

  “
Yes. Yes he does. And I seriously think he’s one, too.”

  “You know, Jen, we really should just quit one of these days.”

  Jen rolled her eyes. “You’ve been sayin’ that for almost three years, Rachel. Either do it or shut up about it. You’re depressing me.”

  Rachel winked. “One of these days.”

  Taking a deep breath, Rachel punched the button on the elevator, calling down the car to carry her to hell. For three long years she’d worked at Stanley Enterprises, and in the beginning, it was pretty nice. Old man Stanley had gone into semi-retirement just before she got the job and his senior secretary, Bonnie, practically ran the place for the first few months. Aside from the occasional call from Stanley senior with instructions on what to do, they were pretty much on their own. Then, along came junior – stuffed shirt, no personality, all work. With dad now off somewhere on a beach in Puerto Rico, Stanley Junior was calling the shots and they all involved extra work at the same pay.

  Rachel stopped in front of the solid mahogany door to the main office and took a deep breath. Ryan Stanley, President. That same stinking plaque greeted her each and every morning. Even the eight letters of the alphabet were permanently tainted by his name.

  With her chin up, Rachel pushed down on the handle and let herself into the stringent room.

  “Hello, Rach! You better hurry. Someone’s been looking for you already.” She narrowed her eyes to tiny slits and nodded off toward another mahogany door of even greater proportions.

  Bonnie. She’d been there for nearly thirty years and had seen the company through the struggling times before it became the multi-million dollar success that it was now. Through it all, she never waved – until it came to junior. She didn’t take any of his crap, and did as she pleased. Having diapered the brat, she would say, entitled her to a little leeway.

  Though she really didn’t want to afford him the courtesy, Rachel knocked before entering. The low mumble from the other side told her he was in deep conversation with a potential client. This is how she usually presented herself in the morning and his normal reaction was no different on this day. With a brief wave of the hand, he lured her to his desk with the ominous yellow paper pinched between his fingers. Rachel snatched it out of his smooth, perfectly manicured hand and peeked at the chicken scratch. She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god! No lunch with junior today. Her normal course of the day entailed having a ‘working’ lunch with him, and since he always bought, he acted as though he were doing her a favor.

  “First two emails need to be sent off immediately,” he whispered, covering the receiver with his second, equally manicured hand. “Then get that package for the steel company ready to go in the morning mail.”

  Rachel nodded and whisked herself out of the room before he asked her to wash his laundry, too.

  “What has your highness in store for you today?” Bonnie grinned and curtsied.

  Rolling her eyes, Rachel dropped down at her desk. “Everything but the dishes. At least I’m off the hook for lunch today.”

  “My, my, my! How did you manage that one?”

  Rachel thought for a second. “You know? I’m not sure.” She brushed it off. “He’s a strange one. God only knows what he has up his sleeve.”

  Less than two emails later, Junior cracked his door and motioned her in. In all of her years of training herself to keep her emotions off of her face, Rachel found the last three years incredibly regressive, bordering on a full fail.

  “Yes, Mr. Stanley?” She really did try her best, but sometimes it just didn’t work.

  He must have noted the attitude in her voice because he stopped in mid-walk and looked over his shoulder. He just stared. Great, she thought. Busted for insubordination. “I…just forgot to schedule our lunch, Miss Peters. We’ll make it around one. Carlo’s,” he added, as if that would make up for it. “I know how you like their pasta.”

  Oh, why did he have to do that? Pasta was her weakness. Especially Carlo’s pasta. “Great. What’s the topic today?”

  Mr. Stanley perked up. “I need to go over the invoice for Adam’s Construction. Larry claim’s they were missing several thousand dollars’ worth of materials, and he’s threatening to take his business elsewhere. I want to go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. Bring his file with you.”

  Stupidly, Rachel thought they were finished, and she turned to leave.

  “Just one more thing.” Junior had a really bad habit of using the phrase ‘just one more thing’. “I’ll need you to stay over an extra hour tonight. We need to get the contract worked up for Bartle’s Steel Company. I’m dining with my parents later tonight and won’t have time to work on it at home.”

  “Mr. Stanley’s in town?” Rachel had never met the old man, but Bonnie had told her plenty. “How long’s he staying?”

  “For a few days. They’re taking an Atlantic cruise and this is just a short stop-over.” Junior stopped talking for a second and looked Rachel over like he really wanted to tell her something, and for a moment, she thought he was going to spill his guts. Nope. He pulled back in like it was a cold day in January. “I’ll see you at lunch, Miss Peters.”

  Her cue to leave.

  He was already on the phone when she clicked the door to a close. When Rachel turned around, Bonnie’s mouth gaped and she started grinning.

  “Since when did you turn into one of those types?” she said, motioning to Rachel’s chest.

  Rachel looked down and realized just why junior delayed her departure several times. The top button on her blouse had taken a vacation, revealing just a bit more than was office-appropriate. Well, okay. A lot more.

  “That’s just lovely. I’m wearing black and figured I’d be safe to go sans bra today since it’s bound to be a hundred degrees.” A mini tantrum bubbled up the more she thought about it. “That’s why he was looking at me like that. He’s no different than creepy, old Jake.”

  “I’m surprised he was able to control himself with a body like that.” Bonnie swung her hips and ran her hands down her waist. “If I had your body, I sure wouldn’t cover it up. I’d be using it to get ahead.”

  “Ahead of what? Landing Junior, here? No, thank you. I’d rather eat ramen noodles every day of the week.”

  Bonnie shrugged and sat back down. “Suit yourself, but don’t get all high and mighty when you’re heading for forty and still single. Eventually you’ve got to make the tough decisions, and they’re easier to make when you still have the looks to back it up. When you get to be my age, the options dry up.”

  She knew Bonnie was right, but after her last bad scene with a guy, she wondered if she’d ever be ready again. Hence, the play-dates that were just that – play. More than one guy had tried to force a third date, but she cut them off at two – before she could be used again.

  The morning blew on by, and before she knew it, Rachel found Junior standing at the corner of her desk. Ha! He thought he would sneak up behind her and get a peek from an elevation. A tiny, gold pin clamped the top of her blouse shut.

  “Do you have Adam’s file?”

  She tapped her finger on the top file on the ever-growing stack on her desk.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

  If it wasn’t Carlo’s pasta day, Rachel would have let him have it. Or not, but it was satisfying to think about.

  The mouth-watering smells seeping from Carlo’s kitchen made it even more difficult to concentrate on the droning voice of Junior as he went over each and every number on the invoice.

  “You’re sure they’re all accounted for?” He tapped his fingernail against his glasses. Rachel looked closer. Oh, my god, she thought! He buffs! She looked down at her own nails, the clear polish chipped at the tips, and pulled them back into her fist.

  “Everything’s here.” Rachel had picked over that account herself. She knew it was correct. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening. This is the third client in the last four months who’s had a problem.
Could it be the materials software making a mistake?”

  Junior raised a brow. “That is a possibility I hadn’t thought of, Miss Peters. I’ll have someone come in and run a few diagnostics.”

  A server interrupted them with heaping plates of angel hair topped with a thick layer of sauce. Rachel’s stomach growled. Next came the basket of fresh-baked rolls.

  “We’ll have to re-add everything and start over. I want to see if we come up with the same numbers a second time.”

  How could he possibly think about math with lunch sitting just under his nose? She was beginning to think he wasn’t human, when he looked up and smiled. “Let’s eat!”

  Rachel wished he would do that more often. His teeth were gorgeous – courtesy of the best in dental care money could buy – but gorgeous just the same. She felt a rush of heat rise up her neck.

  Junior, of course, noticed right away. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

  “Fine,” she said. “It’s just really hot today, and the spaghetti’s putting off even more heat.”

  Is that what it was? Rachel wasn’t even sure where that explanation came from, but it seemed to satisfy him. Twisting the angel hair around her fork, Rachel wondered if it had something to do with what Bonnie had said to her earlier in the day, or maybe it was the fact that she practically exposed both of her breasts to him that morning. Whatever the case, it definitely caught her off guard. They finished their lunch in relative silence while he tapped away on his phone’s calculator in between bites of pasta.

  “Well, Miss Peters, thank you for an enjoyable lunch. Tomorrow we’ll be trying out the new Chinese restaurant three streets over.”

  She knew the routine. “New client?”

  He nodded. “This is a big one. He’s flying in from California after choosing our company over twenty others. If we get this client, your job is set for at least a decade.”

  Rachel nearly choked. “Seriously?”

  There was that smile again. “Well, I may have exaggerated just a little, but it’s pretty big. I’ve been working on this for almost a year, and I’m this close,” he said, holding up his fingers.

  Though she didn’t want to admit it, Rachel was a little impressed. Junior hadn’t really done anything overly spectacular in his first year running the business and Rachel was beginning to think she should be looking for a new job. If all went well, maybe she would ask for a raise.