Something So Irresistible

by Natasha Madison

  There is never a dull moment in this business. If I have to get in there and swing a hammer or wash the damn glasses myself, I do it. There is nothing I won’t do to protect my and my company’s reputation. If you are opening a restaurant or a nightclub and you attach it to the name Mackenzie Jacob, chances are it’ll be a hit from day one.

  So now, here I am walking into my office a few minutes late. The cute new receptionist, Carmen, is batting her eyes at me as I walk in, dragging out her greeting. “Good Morning, Mr. Mackenzie.” She’s new here, so she mustn’t have heard the news yet, but I don’t fuck where I eat. Ever.

  “Morning. Is my new temp here yet?” I ask her, getting right to the point as she hands me my messages. A new temp who is yet another thing I didn’t need today.

  Since my secretary retired last month, I’ve gone through six or seven temps…okay, maybe ten. But it’s not all my fault. I can’t take it if they’re stupid and I have to sit there and spell things out for them. I need someone who can take direction, get it right the first time, and just do what I ask the first time I ask it. It’s simple, really.

  When I ask you to get me coffee, I’m not asking you to join me for a cup. When I tell you to scan and email something, I don’t need reporting of the task as if you’re waiting for a sticker on your paper. When you have a caller on hold, I don’t need you announcing them to me through the intercom in a singsong voice. I also don’t need you knocking on my door every few minutes to ask me if I need anything. Trust me, when I need something, you’ll be the first one to know.

  “Can you tell Barbara I’m in now?” I prompt her, walking away while I pull the collar from my neck, making my way down the hall toward my corner office.

  I walk into my office, taking in the view of the city. We are on the forty-sixth floor, so I can see the skyline perfectly, and at night, it’s even better. I eat, sleep, and breathe my work. There aren’t set hours for my work. So, if I have to be at the office for fifteen hours a day, then that’s what it takes. Which is why I don’t need, or want, a wife at this point. I’d just let them down.

  I’ve lost count of how many relationships I’ve had that have ended because I wasn’t there when I said I would be. I’m married to my work, and she is my first priority.

  Sitting in my chair, I start going through the messages. I flip through them, seeing two messages from Vegas. I’m thinking of branching out and opening an office there, but something is stopping me. I like to stay local. I like to show up during construction. I like to pop in when you least expect it, and I wouldn’t be able to do that if I branched out to Vegas.

  I’m about to call them back when there is a knock on the door. I don’t even have to tell them to come in before Barbara opens the door. I look over at her. She’s been here from day one, but she isn’t what I’m looking at this morning; it’s the girl behind her.

  Fucking unbelievable! This crazy chick followed me to my work. She is probably coming to sue me. I’ll show her. “Are you fucking stalking me? Did you follow me here?” I growl at her while I stand up behind my desk.

  Barbara’s face pales and her mouth hangs open, but not the sassy one behind her. “Follow you? Are you insane?” She looks at Barbara. “I can’t do this. I totally understand why you’ve gone through so many temps. Who would work for him?” She shakes her head. “Not only did he hit my car”—she looks at me—“while texting. The first thing he asked was if I was drunk!” She looks back at Barbara, who then glares at me. Great, just great, she’s on crazy chick’s side. “You would think he would ask me if I’m okay, right? Nope, not this guy. He wanted to know if I was drunk at eight a.m. Who the hell drinks at eight am anyway?” She folds her arms under her breasts, unnecessarily pushing them up. Fuck. I can’t stop the mental image of her standing there, arms crossed under her tits, in nothing but her shoes. I shake that thought from my head.

  “Wait.” I throw the messages on my desk. “You, you’re my temp?”

  “No, sir,” she says, and fuck me, but does that ever make me want to hold her hands behind her back as I bend her over my desk and pound into her while she calls me sir. “I was your temp.” She looks at Barbara. “I wish you well.” Then she turns and starts walking out the door.

  Barbara’s raised voice stops her. “Wait a second!” She looks at me. “Austin Montgomery Mackenzie, is Lauren telling me that you hit her car and then asked her if she was drunk? I raised you better than that, young man,” she chides in that sharp tone I remember from my childhood. Okay, so Barbara was also my nanny growing up. That was to be expected when you’re the child of world-renowned doctors who jetted around the globe saving lives. One is a cardiologist, and the other is a brain surgeon. They had very little time to raise a child. So, that’s where Barbara came in, and she stayed until I was eighteen. She retired, but when I opened this firm, she was the first one I thought of to handle the HR side of the company, something I knew she would handle far better than me. “Apologize right this second, Austin,” she demands, and I scoff at her. I will not do any such thing.

  “She braked suddenly for no reason! There was no one in front of her,” I defend myself. Barbara’s eyebrows pinch together, and she takes her glasses off so they hang on the chain around her neck. I know that if I don’t say sorry, this will just end in her quitting again. Last time, it cost me a month-long Mediterranean cruise. “Fine,” I huff out, “I’m sorry I accused you of being drunk. I should have just called you what you are—a reckless, clueless female driver.”

  Lauren stands there glaring at me as Barbara yells, “I quit!” This must shock Lauren, because she immediately goes to Barbara and strokes her back. “Oh no. No, no, no. Please, really, it’s fine. It’s totally okay. I accept his apology.” She aims a glare at me. “I understand now why so many women left, he’s a...” She leans in and whispers in Barbara’s ear. I don’t know what she says, but they both snicker. Great, just great.

  “Yup, my money is on Lauren.” She looks at me. “You’re lucky she saved you this time.” She smiles at Lauren. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow. Austin’s treat.”

  She leaves the room leaving us all alone. “Fine. I guess I’ll try and work with you, for Barbara.” She walks out to the desk facing my office. She puts her purse on it. Turning the computer on, she grabs a pen and notepad and comes back in. “No time like the present to get this out of the way, so why don’t we start with your expectations of me?”

  I look at her while she sits in the chair in front of me, crossing her legs at her ankles. I sit down, leaning back in my chair, and start rocking. “Okay, fine. I expect you to be on time. Every day. No exceptions.”

  She doesn’t write it down. “That isn’t a problem. I hate when people are late, so you don’t have to worry about that. Unless, of course, irresponsible people hit my car while I’m innocently driving, I’ll be here on time.”

  “There is a list on your desk of routine tasks required of this position that you can read. If it’s not clear enough, then come ask me questions. How’s that?”

  She gets up. “That sounds like a plan.” She turns to walk away, and I watch her. Every fucking step she takes she swings her hips; the best thing is, she has no idea she’s doing it. She has no idea that I’m sitting here negotiating with myself about my own rule. I’m not sure how I’m going to get anything done, because fucking her on my desk is the only thing I can think of that needs to be done right now.

  Also Available Now

  Hell And Back

  Prologue

  Walking into the bare room, I look around. A small dresser with three drawers sits up against the plain white wall.

  A couple of shorts, shirts, and some socks fill the drawers, but most are empty. The small toddler bed lies in the middle of the room.

  Two nails hold up a dusty sheet in the window to block out the light. It used to be navy, but the years of wear have turned it to baby blue.

  I look down at my three-year-old daughter curled up into a small ball. Almost like
she is guarding or protecting herself from whatever evil is lurking around us. She’s seen enough blackness in her three years to last a lifetime.

  She cried enough tears and heard enough sobs to fill twenty years’ worth of scary movies.

  When the doctor placed her on my chest I vowed to love and protect her, but I’ve failed her. I’ve failed myself. But no more. From that fateful day I vowed to right all the wrongs I did to her.

  I’ve escaped the horror we’ve endured. The bruises are starting to fade. The black and blues have now turned into a greenish yellow.

  The scars will fade, too, but the terror, the memories…nothing will erase them.

  I wake my girl up and grab her from her bed. “Momma, we habe to leabe again?”

  “No, baby, I just want to show you the stars outside.” I tuck her into my chest and make my way to the porch.

  No one knows about this one-story house my grandmother left me. Which is why we are safe. For now.

  The yard is overcome with weeds. Something I plan to rectify tomorrow. We’ve been here for the last seven days, staying inside. Trying not to bring attention to us. I’ve done my best not to be too jumpy, but every time I hear a car door slam shut, I hold my breath, hoping no one is coming up the steps that lead to the front door.

  We haven’t even opened the windows. It is almost like we’re shuttering ourselves inside this temporary safe haven as if we don’t even exist.

  Opening up the screen door, the rusty springs make a loud squeaking noise in the dead of the night. Trying not to make it slam shut, I hold the handle till it shuts softly.

  The sounds outside are quiet. Serene. No car sounds, no horns honking, no rushing, just crickets. I settle into the swing I know my grandfather hung to make sure my grandmother had somewhere she could sit and watch the stars.

  For thirty-seven years, they did it all together until death came and took my grandfather in his sleep. Ten years later, he came and rescued her from the pain of ALS. Her knitting, cooking, cleaning, gardening, baking all came to a halt the minute her hands shook so badly she couldn’t hold not even a fork to feed herself.

  Settling myself into the swing, I fold one foot under me, pushing off with the other one.

  “So many stars, Momma.” My brown-eyed girl looks up, pointing to what looks like a million twinkling lights in the sky.

  The darkness of the sky makes them sparkle like diamonds. Some are small, some are blinking. All are beautiful. It’s peaceful. It’s everything I remember it to be.

  It’s hope, hope for change. Hope for the future. Hope for the end of the nightmare I have been living the last four years. “Look, baby, a shooting star. Make a wish.”

  She closes her eyes, and I see her lips move, but no sound comes out of her mouth. I lean down kissing her forehead, making my own wish.

  I do this for the next thirty minutes, maybe more, pushing myself on that swing with one foot. Once I know she is asleep in my arms, I get back up to go inside.

  The whole time I never realized that the neighbor across the street has been sitting in his living room with the lights off just staring out the window at two broken girls sitting across the street.

  Pieces Of Heaven

  Prologue

  Mick

  I’m sitting here on a stool in this old, run-down, dead bar called Molly’s. The smell of stale cigarettes lingers on the walls, having soaked in over the years, way before they were banned.

  I swirl the brown liquid in my glass, thinking about how I got here, how much I could fuck up, even my own life.

  The stool next to me moves, scraping across the floor, but I don’t take my eyes off the glass.

  I don’t have to turn around to see who is sitting next to me. I know Fred, the bartender, called him. It’s what he always does when he thinks I’ve gone over the edge.

  I think this is my worst bender yet, and trust me, I’ve had a lot of fucking benders. How could I not?

  I’ve been here for the past five days, each day coming in at around noon, not leaving till past midnight. A couple of times I even passed out on his dirty, old couch in the office, waking in a puddle of drool with cat hair on my tongue.

  Just another phase, they thought. Just another bad time. If only they fucking knew.

  “So,” I hear Jackson talk. “How long is it going to last this time?” This is not our first rodeo. Jackson is the only one who has been there for me over the years.

  I shrug my shoulders, not even sure of the answer myself.

  “Is it Marissa? Is it Lori?” Just the mention of their names is like a stab to the heart. The pain is so unbearable I grab the glass and drink the amber liquid, hoping the burn will overpower the pain.

  “Gone,” is all I say, all I can muster up.

  “Gone where? Bella just spoke with her,” Jackson says.

  “Sandie’s pregnant.” The thought alone makes the liquid I just swallowed down begin to climb back up.

  The shocked look on Jackson’s face mimics mine when she told me.

  “Had heaven in my hands and I let it go. Fucked it up. Now I’m living in hell.”

  With that, I close my eyes, remembering the day I actually touched heaven.

  RIDER’S REVENGE

  (THE LAST RIDER’S, #10)

  by Jamie Begley

  Jo swam through the cool water of the small lake hidden in the woods behind Rachel and Cash’s house. Rachel had offered to let her swim there any time she wanted. Usually it was early evening when she came out here. If she didn’t see any cars or motorcycles outside Rachel’s house, then she would take a quick dip.

  Tonight, though, it was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, and the lights from Cash’s cabin that could normally be seen through the inky darkness were off.

  She dunked her sweaty hair under the water. The night was muggy, and she had serviced a three-car pile-up on the outskirts of town.

  Jo swam until she was nearly exhausted, banishing the sight of the dead body being wheeled to the coroner’s van. Thankfully, the victim had already been covered in a body bag before she had arrived.

  The sheriff had told her that the victim had been from out of town and had ignored the warning for the sharp curve. The BMW had taken the curve too fast, not seeing another car had stopped, waiting for a car in the incoming lane to pass so they could go down the side road that led to a home.

  All three cars had been involved in the accident, four people had headed to the ER, and one to the morgue.

  “I need to find another job,” Jo said out loud to herself as she floated aimlessly on her back.

  Staring up into the tree branches that fanned over the water, she had drifted out farther than she had thought. She didn’t bother lifting her head, knowing exactly where she was in the small body of water.

  The faint sound of a motor from the road didn’t have her lifting her head. The main road wasn’t close, but sounds carried in the woods surrounding the lake. With Rachel and Cash being out of town to visit Cash’s relatives, she didn’t expect any of Cash’s friends or Rachel’s brothers to stop by for a visit. Even if they did, they wouldn’t stay long, seeing that they weren’t home.

  As the sound of the motor grew closer, Jo lowered her legs, treading water to stay in the shadows of the trees on the side of the lake.

  “Dammit,” Jo muttered softly, seeing a motorcycle’s headlight coming to a stop at the bank, the lone light hitting the water.

  She moved farther into the shadows, her chin dipping into the water in case the light hit her. She castigated herself for not taking the time to put on her swimsuit.

  She had ridden her bicycle from the scrapyard. At least whoever the lone rider was who was enjoying his cigarette wouldn’t be able to see it from where it was leaning against a tree several feet away.

  Jo remained still, making small movements to stay afloat as he smoked. When the smoke drifted toward her, she realized whoever it was, they weren’t smoking a cigarette.

  W
hen he lifted the joint toward his mouth again, Jo recognized Rider.

  She cursed to herself. She detested that particular Last Rider. Shade, she had talked a few times before and after her father had been murdered. He had even loaned her enough money to keep her business going when she had been overwhelmed with the debts her father’s death had left behind. If Shade hadn’t loaned her the money, the new tow truck her father had talked her into buying

  would have been repossessed.

  The few times that she had been unfortunate to talk to Rider, he had grated on her nerves. The first time she had met the handsome biker, he had expected her to fall for him as if he were God’s gift to women. The second time, he had thought she was interested in women.

  Every bone in her body had screamed at her to take the Casanova down a peg or two. The only reason she didn’t was because Jo knew he was friends with Rachel and because his ego was so overblown that dynamite wouldn’t make a dent in his pearly whites.

  A stray breeze had her shivering in the water.

  Dammit, how long does it takes to smoke a joint? she thought wrathfully as she waited for Rider to leave.

  When she saw him flick what was left in a glowing arc, then turned off his bike, she knew she was in trouble. His headlight disappeared, giving only the dim shadow of him undressing.

  Her head spun at trying to figure out what to do as she warily watched his movements.

  Rider headed toward the opposite side of the lake from where she was swimming. When she heard the scape of a rock, she knew he was climbing the rock overhang.

  Was he going to stand there or …?

  Her unfinished thought was answered as soon as she heard the splash.

  She started swimming for the bank where she had left her clothes and bike. Her heart was pounding in exertion as she swam.

  The tips of her toes had just grazed the bottom when she felt a muscular arm curl around her waist.

  “Let me go!” Jo screeched, trying to jerk out of Rider’s restraining hold. “Who do I have here? A mermaid coming to keep me company?” his amused