FIRST ORIGINAL EDITION, JANUARY 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Deborah Bladon
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual person’s, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1542327541
ISBN-10: 1542327547
eBook ISBN: 978-1-926440-42-2
Book & cover design by Wolf & Eagle Media
www.deborahbladon.com
Also by Deborah Bladon
THE OBSESSED SERIES
THE EXPOSED SERIES
THE PULSE SERIES
THE VAIN SERIES
THE RUIN SERIES
IMPULSE
SOLO
THE GONE SERIES
FUSE
THE TRACE SERIES
CHANCE
THE EMBER SERIES
THE RISE SERIES
HAZE
SHIVER
TORN
THE HEAT SERIES
RISK
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Thank You
Preview of TENSE
Preview of WORTH
Deborah’s Mailing List
About the Author
Chapter 1
Lark
"How big do you think it is, Lark?"
"I think it's average, but I'm not the best judge when it comes to stuff like this." I smile at my co-worker, Dexie Walsh. "Everyone thinks I'm the expert, but seriously, I have no idea."
"Who thinks you're the expert?" She applies a thin layer of pink stained gloss to her lips. "I know your stats. If we're going by that, I'm more of an expert than you are."
My stats? The only statistic that matters when we're talking about our end of the year bonus is my relationship to the Chief Operating Officer of Matiz Cosmetics. My older brother, Crew, signs those checks and he's been tight-lipped about what's inside the envelopes he's going to hand out at this meeting. All I know for certain is that my check will be the same amount as every other junior executive who works in marketing for the company. No special favors are granted to me. The fact that I didn't get a bonus at all last year is proof of that.
"My brother is responsible for the bonuses." I finger one of the buttons on the front of the navy blue dress I'm wearing. "That fact alone means I'm more of an expert than you'll ever be."
"Who the hell is talking about bonuses?" She leans closer to me, lowering her voice. "I'm talking about Mr. Moore's dick."
I squirm in my seat, resisting the urge to cover both of my ears with my hands. This is not a conversation that's suitable for the boardroom. I'm not going to talk about Ryker Moore's nude photo scandal at this conference table. Ten of our co-workers are here. They're all within earshot and even if Dexie and I whisper they'll know what we're talking about.
It's been the primary discussion topic for the past two days. Everyone in the office, except for most of the men, has been focused on the candid shots of Mr. Moore and his girlfriend that were posted online last Friday night. I thought that people might forget about them over the weekend, but that didn’t happen. Bright and early Monday morning I arrived at the office to see several of my co-workers huddled together whispering and staring at the screen of a phone.
Those pictures left nothing to the imagination. The two people in the photos were completely naked and apparently unaware that they were being photographed.
"I'm not talking about this." I elbow Dexie as I shoot her a look. "How would you feel if someone took naked pictures of you and posted them online without your permission?"
"I'd send them a fruit basket and my latest purse as a great big thank you." She laughs. "If it takes flashing a camera to get more eyes on my line of handbags, I'm up for it."
I think she's kidding about going nude for publicity, but I wouldn't put it past her. Dexie works at Matiz for two reasons and two reasons only. She's using the bulk of her pay to fund her burgeoning handmade purse business, and she's soaking up all the marketing knowledge that our boss, Ryker Moore, is always dishing out.
He's a genius when it comes to selling cosmetics. That's impressive on its own, but before he came on board as the head of marketing here, he helped Liore Lingerie reach a billion dollar in sales. My brother thinks Mr. Moore can shoot Matiz's numbers into the stratosphere.
"You'll catch a break one of these days, Dexie," I say as I eye the doorway expecting Crew to walk in at any second. "I've been sharing all of your designs on my social media accounts. I don't have a ton of followers yet, but every little bit helps, right?"
"I can't argue with that." She starts to sketch something with a pencil on the notepad in front of her. "My time will come."
"Speaking of time," I segue awkwardly. "Crew is late. This meeting was supposed to start at ten, wasn't it? It's almost ten-thirty."
She glances up at the circular clock hanging over the doorway. "The email Crew sent out specifically said that we all had to be in the boardroom at ten or risk having to get him coffee for the entire month of January. He never follows through on those threats, does he?"
The only person he'd order to get him coffee would be me, but he knows that I'll flip him the bird in response. Working at Matiz under the watchful eye of one of my three older brothers has been both a blessing and a curse.
I'm grateful knowing that Crew always has my back even if I've told him on more than one occasion that I want to be treated the same as every other employee in the organization. He's done exactly that since I started working here thirteen months ago. We may be siblings, but I'm making a name for myself as one of the most innovative members of the marketing team. Knowing that he's in the same building as me every day offers a sense of comfort that I've never admitted to him I need.
"Did either of you see this one?"
I immediately turn to my left toward the voice of Christine Smith. We were hired within a week of each other. She's holding her smartphone in her hand, the image on the screen an all too familiar one of Mr. Moore on a Caribbean beach last week. Dexie glances at it briefly before she directs her attention back to the sketch she's working on.
"Put that away, Christine." I nudge her with my shoulder. "If Crew catches you looking at that during work hours, he'll reprimand you."
"I wish." She swipes her thumb over the screen of her phone to bring up a meme made from one of the nude photos of Mr. Moore. A cartoon tongue is hiding everything a swimsuit should have been. "I'd seriously burn the building to the ground if it meant your brother would take me over his knee and give my ass a good swat."
"Gross," I say the word with a light chuckle. "Don't talk about Crew that way and stop staring at Mr. Moore's pictures. You know those pictures are an invasion of his privacy, don't you?"
"I know these pictures are what I look at when I'm having some private time with my battery operated boyfriend."
I try to stifle a laugh. "I don't get the fascination but to each her own."
"Who do you think you're fooling?" She turns in her chair as she lowers her tone. "His cock has to be at least nine inche
s, Lark. I've never been with anyone bigger than a seven. He was a thin seven who had no idea what he was doing. Ryker's working with some serious equipment and I get the impression that he knows how to handle every thick inch of it."
"I don't think about things like that," I half-lie. I'm not about to admit that I stared at the pictures when they first went viral. It's not every day you see your gorgeous boss completely nude.
Christine moves her thumb across the screen of her phone yet again. "Who do you think you're fooling? Every single woman in this room has rubbed one out to those pictures."
I look around the table before my gaze falls back on her phone. The meme that's now on display has a rainbow that ends right between Mr. Moore's legs. Whoever made that one obviously thinks my boss's dick is a treasure.
"I seriously doubt most of the women in this room have seen the pictures, Christine."
"Let's find out." She spins her phone in her hand, so the screen is now facing the center of the conference table. "If you're a man close your eyes. If you're a woman, raise your hand if you saw this picture or any picture of Mr. Moore with no pants on."
More than a few people burst out laughing and two hands dart into the air before they fly back down.
"Stop it, Christine." I reach for her phone, but she's taller than me, which means her arms are longer than mine. My hand flails in the air. "No one needs to see that."
"Calm down, Lark." She waves the phone in front of her. "Everyone wants to see what's at the end of this rainbow."
"No, they don't." I push myself to my feet and yank her phone from her hand. "It's just a penis. It's not a pot of gold."
Raucous laughter fills the room until his words cut through it all. "Ms. Benton? What exactly are you doing?"
I cringe when I hear his voice. I'd know it anywhere. It's masculine, naturally authoritative and it belongs to my boss. I place Christine's phone on the table before I look to the doorway where Mr. Moore is standing with a stack of envelopes in his hands.
"Nothing." I lower myself into my chair. "I wasn't doing anything."
"That's debatable." His lips curve into a slight smirk. "Crew was called to the store in Midtown, so I'll be taking over the meeting today. No one has a problem with that, do they?"
His eyes haven't left mine since I looked at him. Damn Christine and her phone for putting me in that position and damn Ryker Moore and his utterly perfect face and body for making me feel like the room is suddenly one hundred degrees. It doesn't matter that he's dressed in a bespoke black suit. I know what's under it. We all do.
"I'll need a moment after the meeting in my office, Lark." He studies me as he takes a seat at the head of the table. "There's a small matter we need to discuss."
"A small matter?" Christine whispers in my ear. "Nothing about him that matters is small."
I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling as I nod. "I'll be there, sir."
Chapter 2
Lark
"The bonus was very generous, Mr. Moore," I say an hour later as he closes the door to his office behind me. "I realize you don't have final say in the amount, but I'm glad that it's marginally more than the one that was given out last year."
One of his dark brows peaks at my subtle burn. I respect Ryker Moore for the job he's doing at Matiz, but he hasn't carved out a place for himself next to my brother yet. Crew is Ryker's boss and although I'd never use that to my personal advantage, I know it can't hurt to remind him, particularly in a moment like this.
There's no business-related reason for this meeting. Every promotional campaign that I've been assigned to help manage is either running smoothly or wrapped and ready to go. The only open file is a mascara campaign for next fall which is still in the very early planning stages.
"Sit, Lark." He barks the order out as he points to a chair in front of his desk.
I lower myself into the leather chair as I watch his face for any sign of what he's about to say. He's stoic. His blue eyes give nothing away. His strong jaw is set firm. The only thing out of place is a lock of black hair that has fallen onto his forehead.
"Why am I here?" I ask with a slight tilt of my head. "I dropped off the files for the spring launch of the new lipstick with your assistant yesterday."
"I got those." He taps his long fingers on the flash drive I stored everything on. "You never cease to impress me, Lark. You have a pulse on the market."
I should. I wear only Matiz products. I did that long before I landed a job here after graduating from college. I know how I feel when I walk out of my apartment with Matiz make-up on. I want every woman to feel that same sense of confidence I do when I know I look my best.
I may have gray eyes and blonde hair, but that's never equated to natural beauty to me. I went through the same awkward acne and breakout stage almost every young woman has. I struggled with liking what I saw in the mirror. The cosmetics Crew gave me for my birthday the past few years have helped but it was learning to love myself that made the difference. I'm still working on that. I'm not perfect, but I'm enough for me.
"Thank you for recognizing that," I say with a smile. "I think the new campaigns are going to blow the competition out of the water."
"I agree." He leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "You've done well. You're an important part of the team."
I rest my back against the chair, relief flowing through me. I highly doubt that I was summoned here because of my recent work. I know it's stellar. I don't need Ryker or my brother to tell me that, but it's still good to hear. "Did you ask me here to talk about the holiday campaign for next year?"
It's a longshot but I want in on that campaign. I have ideas that I believe will catapult sales of Matiz products. I was passed over this year because I was still considered a rookie. I've proven my worth over the last quarter.
He pauses. "I'll be making a decision on the team for next year's holiday campaign in the new year. I haven't given it any thought yet."
I curse inwardly. The legitimate business related reasons for this meeting are quickly narrowing to zero. Ever since he walked into the conference room and heard me talking about his penis, I've been dreading any conversation between us that would involve that. I've tried to convince myself that he won't bring it up. He has to be embarrassed that the pictures were released. There's no way in hell he'd want to talk about them.
"Please keep me in mind," I reply, hoping to drag out our stunted discussion about a campaign that is months away from the planning stages. "If we're done here, I'd like to get back to my desk."
"We're not done."
I don't look at him because frankly I can't right now. Obviously, eye contact is inevitable when you work in close collaboration with someone, but I've gotten good at avoiding it as much as possible since that night almost a year ago.
I couldn't avoid looking at him in the conference room earlier when he walked in right when I was talking about his cock. I don't have to stare at him now even though the temptation to do just that is almost irresistible.
"It was evident in the boardroom earlier that you were discussing the pictures of Gem and me that were posted online last week."
Gem. The name doesn’t suit the woman who bears it. Ryker's girlfriend is a social media darling. Her ass is technically the star of her Instagram account. She's used her body to gain close to twenty million followers and several lucrative sponsorship deals with big name companies, including Matiz. She wears our products exclusively in the images that do show her face. Those postings aren't as frequent as the ones of her in a bikini or work-out gear but every time she shares the name of one of our lipsticks or eye shadows, the product sells out in record time.
"Everyone is discussing those pictures," I say evenly. "I was actually trying to get Christine to stop talking about them when you walked in."
"That's where the pot of gold comment came from?"
I should thank him for not bringing up the fact that I said the word penis in a corporate setting but technically it's
his fault that I did. If he had kept his swimsuit on, no one would have seen his cock, including me.
"Yes," I answer quickly. "I was trying to explain to her that they're just pictures."
"They're just pictures?" he asks darkly, his face stoic. "If they were pictures of you, would you consider them just pictures?"
"I can't answer that question because I'd never put myself in such a compromising position."
If he's going to push, I'm going to shove. I have no problem walking around naked at home. I keep my blinds closed and the camera on my laptop covered with a piece of electrical tape. I'm safe there. The last thing I would ever do is strip in broad daylight.
"You'd never put yourself in a compromising position?" His gaze narrows. "Are you sure about that, Lark?"
Chapter 3
Lark
My heart thumps a beat so loud I'd bet half of Manhattan can hear it. I know that he doesn’t remember what happened at the Christmas party last year, so I need to calm the hell down. He's not talking about the kiss we shared under what I think was mistletoe, although it had the distinct odor of cilantro. He's never brought up that night because he was too drunk to remember it.
"I'm sure," I mutter as I stand. I think I'm sure. I hope I'm sure.
He pauses to consider what I just said as if he doesn't believe my words. "I'd like you to refrain from discussing the pictures while you're in the office."
"I have no intention of ever discussing those pictures again," I blurt out so quickly that my words tumble into each other. "I have no reason to talk about your pictures, so I won't. I won't do it here at the office or when I'm at home or anywhere else."
Shut the hell up, Lark. Just shut up already.
"My concern is the office." He scoops his phone into his palm. "What you discuss after hours is your business. I can't police that."
"I won't be talking about your... I mean, I have no reason to talk about your..." I fumble for the right words, preferably any that don't include a reference to his dick. "I won't be talking about your pictures again."
"Fine." He looks at the screen of his phone. "You're free to go. I assume I'll see you at the marketing party tomorrow night?"
MELT Page 1
