ForePlay: A Checkmate Inc. Novel Book 1 (The Checkmate Inc. Series)

by Shelly Alexander

  “I need to meet with Dex and Oz first to assess the situation. I’ll call if there’s anything you can do.”

  I give the driver a few bills, get out in front of Checkmate, and lean into the doorway of the car with one hand slung over the top and one over the door. She slides closer, looking up at me.

  “I promise we’ll pick up where we left off.” I brush a soft, lingering kiss across her lips. “Tomorrow.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” The promise in her tone makes me want to change my mind about going to the office.

  I close the door and give the roof of the car a double tap before I screw over my two partners even more than I already have for a girl I just met.

  When I get to the executive floor conference room, Dex, Oz, Magnus, Gerard, and Leticia are waiting. My inner circle, and I trust them with my life.

  Coldness zings through me.

  Not only have I broken the near-sacred pact I have with my partners, but I’ve put Gerard in a bad position too, by asking him to keep our meeting with Chloe a secret.

  Leticia points a remote at the wall-mounted television and hits the play button the second I walk through the glass door.

  Dex and Oz don’t say a word. All eyes are glued to the screen.

  The news anchor starts with, “A well-known men’s cologne company smells fishy.”

  Oh for fuck’s sake. I drag a hand down my face.

  After a preamble about how Checkmate is teaching men to manipulate and mock women, the station cuts to the undercover recording.

  “New Jersey,” Magnus speaks up. He smoothes a hand over the back of his graying gelled buzz cut. “They targeted one of our smaller studios with a new, lesser-experienced stylist.”

  Gerard already has his phone out dialing the number.

  Leticia pauses the show.

  “Wait,” I say. “Let’s finish watching it first, then call him.”

  “Andrew was one of our top recruits. He didn’t even mind moving to Jersey because his Aunt Mabel lives there.” Swear to God, I think Magnus sniffs. Gerard squeezes his shoulder.

  Our life-stylist training program is three months long and takes place at a private training facility called the protégé studio. Checkmate employees are the guinea pigs. Magnus and Gerard spend a great deal of time training, grooming, and mentoring the recruits. By the time they finally receive their “Life-Stylist” title, they are almost like children to Magnus and Gerard.

  Dex takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes like he hasn’t slept in a week. “Let’s see the rest of it, Leticia.”

  Andrew leads the client through the process. The first damning statement comes when Andrew says, “Our pheromone products, a new haircut, and the right wardrobe should get you…” The recording cuts away to a rack full of expensive men’s sample clothing as Andrew’s last word is spoken. “…laid.”

  This time Magnus buries his face in his hands and chokes out a sob.

  And the situation goes downhill from there.

  Chloe should be here. Her expertise is exactly what we need to calm the emotions of those of us at the top so the hysteria doesn’t spread. I thought it would be a mistake to bring her to this emergency meeting. Maybe it was an even bigger mistake not including her. At the time I made the decision to send her home, I was more concerned with finding a way to tell my partners everything. They might give me a high-five for hiring a PR firm. Right before they kick my ass all the way to Hoboken for taking Chloe to the studio behind their backs.

  The newscaster goes on to interview spokespeople from several feminist organizations that want blood from Checkmate. Or our balls. Either would seem to work for the Gloria Steinem wannabes.

  “The only way the three-way studio mirrors don’t capture the image of the client is if they keep the camera pointed to the back of the room, or if the videos are heavily edited,” Dex says.

  I turn to Leticia to tell her to send the recordings to our security department. If they can’t analyze them, they’ll know someone who can.

  “On it,” Leticia says before I can start to speak. The woman’s near-telepathic abilities are amazing. She marches out of the conference room and heads to her office.

  “Let’s sue,” Oz blurts.

  “Sue who?” I ask.

  “Everybody!” Oz is clearly beyond pissed. “The client, the networks, the feminist groups who are distorting this and slandering us. I don’t care, but someone needs to pay, because this is bullshit.”

  “I agree,” says Dex. “Maybe if we hire a high-powered corporate law firm and start slapping lawsuits on people, they’ll back off.” He waves a hand toward the screen. “This is ridiculous, and it’s defamation. Sales are definitely going to take a hit, and that will fuck with our expansion plans. It’s one thing to open a new studio in Cincinnati. It’s entirely another to open in Europe and Dubai. We need every dime of cash flow we can get right now.”

  The three of us have worked tirelessly on this new business venture, but no one more than Dex. I know he’ll take it the hardest if it falls through.

  “If our first response is to take legal action, it’ll make us look guilty, like we have something to hide. It’ll also make us look like bullies.” I lean forward and thread my fingers together. “Which will play right into their hands and work against us.” I tap my forefingers together. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to come out swinging against organizations that stand for rights, equality, and fair treatment for women.”

  “Are you saying we should do nothing?” Magnus is obviously appalled at the notion. “They’re bullying us!”

  Gerard nods and gives his head a sassy twitch. “They’re attacking Checkmate by infiltrating our studios and using our life-stylists to do it. This is war as far as I’m concerned.”

  All four of them are glaring at me, and I’m afraid they might riot if I don’t do something.

  “I’m saying we should outsmart them.” I look around the table. Dex and Oz are two of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Magnus and Gerard are two of the savviest. They are waiting, hanging on to hear me finish. “I’m saying we should do what we do best.”

  Dex and Oz keep a patient, neutral expression trained on me. They already know that when I’m trying to make a point, I let the moment build.

  Magnus’s face turns purple as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

  Gerard caves first. “Do tell.”

  I smile. Timing is everything. “While they’re playing checkers, we’ll play chess.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Before I can explain that I’ve hired Simmons & Richards and come clean with my partners about where Chloe and I were earlier today, Dex insists we take a break. He instructs Gerard and Magnus to call the life-stylist who appears to have veered off the script he was meticulously trained to use. Leticia retreats to her desk to write a memo to Checkmate employees. Oz and Dex start contacting vendors to assure them we’re already working to turn the situation around. The last thing we need is our vendors bailing on us in an attempt to distance themselves from the bad press.

  And me? I pull out my phone in the privacy of my office and send Chloe a dirty text.

  What are you wearing?

  I know I should be doing something more constructive than sexting my PR account rep. I should be updating her on the situation. Getting her input. Sending a fucking car to bring her here to participate in the rest of the meeting. But I can’t help myself. Chloe has infiltrated my world, my work, my thoughts, and I want her so badly it hurts. Literally. The perpetual boner I’ve been sporting for three days now has gotten somewhat painful.

  I stop breathing as I stare at the phone, waiting for the dots to start jumping. Finally, they do, and I haul in air to ease the sting in my lungs.

  Nothing.

  All the air I just breathed in is knocked right out of me with that one word.

  My fingers fly over the smooth screen.

  Nothing as in still no panties? Or nothing as in nothing at
all?

  The dots jump and dance. My knuckles turn white because I’m clutching the phone so tight.

  Nothing but my birthday suit.

  Fucking. Christ. I run a hand through my hair.

  I want to see you in it. Send me a pic.

  The phone goes silent for a moment before another message pops up.

  I don’t send naked selfies.

  A tremor of relief threads through me. Smart girl. I’m glad no men have naked pictures of her they can use to jack off or show their buddies while they brag about the notches in their belts. Before I can respond, another message appears.

  But you can see it in person.

  I fire a response right back.

  Oh I plan to do more than see it.

  The door cracks and Leticia sticks her head in. “Everyone is back in the conference room.”

  I send Chloe another text while walking toward the door.

  Going into a meeting.

  She responds.

  Anything I can do?

  I keep texting and walking.

  Plenty you can do. How late will you be up tonight?

  I stop walking and wait for her response.

  If you’re with me, all night. If not, you can still text me no matter how late. That goes for both work and pleasure.

  I swallow down the cotton in my mouth, shove the phone into my pocket, and charge into the conference room to take a seat before anyone can get a good look at the bulge in my pants.

  Magnus and Gerard are happy to report that the life-stylist swears some of his words have been edited out to distort what he really said. Magnus even challenged him to a lie detector test, which he agreed to.

  Funny, since we don’t employ such high-handed tactics at Checkmate. Magnus looks very proud of himself anyway.

  “We need to figure something out quickly to spin this in a different direction,” Dex says.

  “You’re absolutely right,” I say. “I’ve got a plan.” I’ve chickened out long enough. It’s time to man up.

  “What do you have in mind?” Oz asks.

  I hesitate, not sure how to begin. The mood hanging over the conference room grows heavier.

  Dex reaches for the phone. “I’m calling your sister. She’ll drag it out of you.”

  So much for manning up.

  “All right. Let’s do exactly what they did. We give people a peek behind the wizard’s curtain, but this time it’s on our terms.” I don’t tell them yet that this is Chloe’s idea. I plan to ease into it so they don’t shut her down before she even gets started.

  Dex and Oz both stare at me with gaping mouths.

  Leticia lets out a low whistle.

  Magnus gasps.

  Gerard gives me a shit-eating grin like he’s got me by the balls. Which he kind of does. But he’s loyal, and I know he won’t give me up. Plus, he loves his job and doesn’t want to move back to Milan. Or West Virginia.

  “Are you crazy?” Dex finally says. “That’s like Colonel Sanders giving away his secret original recipe. Once everyone can cook it the same way, the chicken won’t be so finger-lickin’ good anymore.”

  “I’m with Dex on this one.” Oz gets up and paces behind his chair. “You know why women flock to Victoria’s Secret?”

  Sounds familiar, and visions of Chloe wearing a thong under her business clothes while giving a PR campaign pitch to a room full of people races through my dirty mind. It also makes me jealous as hell. When she makes the pitch to us, I’ll have to insist she wear granny panties.

  Which I will peel off of her the moment we’re alone, so I can fuck her against the wall. Or maybe on top of my desk. Whichever she wants is fine by me, as long as I get to fuck her. Soon.

  Oz jams both hands into the pockets of his jeans, and my attention snaps back to him as he continues his rant. “It’s because Victoria never gave up her goddamn secret, that’s why.”

  Magnus nods his head emphatically.

  Gerard is conspicuously quiet. Arms crossed, sly smile on his face, he’s watching the situation unfold.

  “I get what you’re saying.” I lean back in my chair. “But if we control what they see behind the curtain, control what they learn about Checkmate, it will squash the momentum out of this smear campaign before it starts to snowball.”

  Dex shakes his head. “It goes against everything we represent. Everything we’ve promised our clients. Client privacy is everything to the success of our retail studio arm.” Dex gives me a worried look. “Men want to be cool, sophisticated, or whatever. They don’t necessarily want anyone to know how they got that way.”

  I know what he means. Oz and I both do. We were all in the same boat at one time. We may not have worn high-waters, we may not have been bad-looking, we may not have lacked social skills, but joining the chess team instead of the football team didn’t exactly have the popular girls lining up unless they wanted us to do their homework for them. It wasn’t until we started Checkmate and I insisted we each get a new image that exuded success and made us feel comfortable and confident that the tide of female attention turned in our favor.

  That’s also where the idea for our retail studios was born.

  Oz thrums fingers against the table. “The fact that the general public isn’t allowed to see behind Checkmate’s curtain is the whole point. We lose the mystery and we lose the very thing that sets us apart and makes us successful.”

  “I thought Magnus and I were the things that set Checkmate apart and made it successful,” Gerard says with sass.

  We all ignore him.

  “What if it can be done with a certain finesse that will enhance the mystique instead of destroying it?” I’m using Chloe’s words to ease into the subject so I can break it to them that not only have I given her a peek behind the curtain, I tore the fucking curtain to shreds.

  Oz and Dex exchange a look.

  “What do you mean?” Oz says.

  “Do you remember my sister bringing a friend who works in public relations to the new product launch on Friday?”

  “Smart girl,” Leticia says. “I liked her.”

  “The one you were salivating over like a Pavlovian dog at your sister’s client appreciation picnic in Central Park yesterday?” Dex asks.

  Shit. That would be the one. I’d hoped he hadn’t noticed. Dex’s IQ is as high as mine. Maybe higher. But even though he can solve a Rubik’s cube in under ten seconds, he can be as obtuse as a stump. “No idea what you mean. We were talking business.”

  Oz chuckles. “My kind of business.”

  I shoot him a disgusted look.

  He holds up both palms. “Dude, you were the one salivating.”

  “No one was salivating,” I growl. “Look, this is a bigger public relations mess than we can deal with on our own. I hired her firm to put together a campaign pitch. One of Chloe’s preliminary suggestions was to give people a behind-the-scenes glimpse at our studios.”

  Gerard arches a brow so high I can’t ignore it. I give him a hard stare.

  His smile only widens, and he gives me a bitchy mean-girl look that says, “There better be a raise in exchange for my silence.”

  My eyes slide shut as I tip my head in the smallest of nods, then I move on. “Bad press that gets people tweeting and talking is one thing. I will not have this company or any of us classified with the douchebags we’ve all watched mistreat women. Checkmate stands for the opposite, and that’s what Chloe plans to hinge our PR campaign on. Let’s at least hear her out on the idea of letting the public in on some of what goes on inside the studios.”

  “Fine,” Dex says. “Get her in here tomorrow afternoon. Let’s see what she’s got to offer.”

  My heart rate doubles. I want this for her. I want her. But then my heart rate plummets. It’s like an elevator freefalling. This is a sizeable project, and she was supposed to have nine days to prepare her pitch. I don’t know if she’ll be ready if we move up the timeline. It will practically be impromptu, and if she doesn’t win over Oz and De
x, it could get her fired. Worse, even if she can prepare on such short notice, I’m not sure she’ll want our little adventure to continue once she makes the pitch. She also applied the nine-day timeline to the seductive game we’re playing.

  I’m just about to ’fess up and tell them I’ve already taken Chloe to the studio, when Oz interrupts me. “Since you were salivating over her, Leo, let’s agree that there will be no relationship outside of work between you two. At least not until this blows over.” Oz pushes his glasses farther up his nose. “There’s a reason we’ve never let outsiders behind the curtain. This PR firm needs to prove their trustworthiness to us first.”

  The elevator crashes to the ground floor and smashes into a million pieces. And I decide to wait until after Chloe’s presentation to tell my buddies that I’ve already pulled the curtain back and given Chloe a long, hard look.

  Chapter Twelve

  When my partners and I call an end to the emergency meeting, it’s late. I put all thoughts of thongs and birthday suits aside and go to my office, where I call Chloe to give her the news about the accelerated timeline.

  “Tomorrow?” The distress in her voice is palpable.

  I want to hold her. I want to kiss her fears away. “I’ll come over now and help you.”

  “No!” She blows a thick breath into the phone. “No, Leo. You’ll distract me. If I’m going to be ready, then I’ve got to stay focused. I have a hard time focusing around you.”

  “Then what can I do?” I ask, like a helpless schmuck.

  “I’ve seen the news reports and the video. Just give me the details of your meeting, and I’ll take it from there.”