Hunter turned left down the hallway. “Where was your mom?”
“She’s an attorney with a big firm back in New Orleans where I grew up. She was always out to prove herself, which meant being away a lot.”
Surprised, he looked over at her. “You’re from New Orleans?”
“I came here to go to Emory. I was going to go to law school when I got sidelined working for the school newspaper. During my second semester, I changed my major to journalism.” She rolled her eyes. “My mother had a fit, but my father encouraged me to pursue it.”
“Is that where you know Smut Slut from? She said she was from New Orleans, as well.” He ushered her back down the hall.
“Believe it or not, we never knew each other in New Orleans. Smut Slut and I went to Emory together. We met in a writing class. Even then her stories were very sexually explicit. We became friends and she began letting me review her work. My reviews turned into editing and when she sold her first book, she asked me to be her editor. That was eight years ago.”
“You ever write, or do you only edit other people’s work?”
“I always had aspirations, but never the courage.”
“Courage?” He drew his brows together. “Courage for what?”
“Courage to put my name on a book. The thought of owning up to what I write scares me. I see what other writers I edit for go through with readers and reviewers, and I’m not that brave. I make a better editor than a writer.”
“I think you’re wrong. If you want to write, you will.” He stopped before a wooden door with a frosted glass top. “You just haven’t found what you want to write about.”
When he pushed the half-glass door open, two women sitting behind thick desks piled high with manila folders lifted their heads. One was a slender blonde with a very pretty face and alluring gray eyes. The other was a rather dowdy middle-aged brunette, wearing glasses.
“Sara and Amy,” Hunter announced as he waved a hand to Cary. “This is Cary Anderson. She’s going to be the division head for a new line we are starting. I need you guys to go over the accounting procedures with her, have her fill out her payroll paperwork, and bring her up to speed on how to submit requests for her budgets.”
The two women stood from their chairs and came up to Cary. “Welcome to the family. I’m Sara Coe,” the pretty blonde greeted.
“And I’m Amy Wallace,” the round brunette said, removing her glasses.
“Great meeting you ladies,” Cary returned with a warm smile.
“Take good care of her,” Hunter instructed. He nodded to Cary. “Come back to my office after you’re done here and we’ll start hacking out the particulars.”
Cary turned to him. “Yes, Hunter.”
The sunlight from the large window beyond the two cluttered desks reflected off her hair, momentarily captivating Hunter.
“Is there anything else?” Cary questioned.
He shook himself from his stupor. “No.” Hunter hastily departed the room.
After returning to his office, Hunter went back to the pile of messages on his desk, eager for a distraction. Pulling the one from his father out from the pile, he picked up his office phone and dialed the number.
“Took you long enough to call me back,” a deep, commanding voice barked. “I called you two hours ago, Hunter; where have you been?”
Hunter sighed before answering. “Working, Dad. Where else would I be.”
“I figured you were still lounging around in bed with some bimbo. Your brother told me about the Expo. He said you were busy chasing blondes and not drumming up business.”
Hunter sank back in his creaky chair and felt as if he were five years old again. “Chris is just being…Chris. I was right by his side for every meeting. We added a few new authors and I even got some ideas for a new line.”
“No new lines,” his father loudly protested. “I told you and your brother the day you two took over Donovan Books to keep to the formula. Alexander always maintained that ‘Victory over one’s enemies is only perfected when you avoid taking on their vices.’ We can’t be like every other publisher and introduce new lines all the time. We have to be better than the rest.”
“Dad, this isn’t some ancient war against Persia; it’s book publishing.”
“Might as well be war,” Jim Donovan huffed. “We’ve been selling the same kind of books for over thirty years and it still works. We’re pulling in over ten million in sales annually. That’s how you could afford that fancy condo of yours. And how your idiot brother can afford to live in that ostentatious penthouse he has in the city. I swear you boys never learned a damn thing from your mother and me. We taught you two to be frugal and—”
“Dad,” Hunter interrupted. “Can we save the lecture for the holiday dinner? I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Jesus, you’re such a smartass.” Jim Donovan paused and let a hissing sigh out through his teeth. “I was calling to remind you to send your mother flowers. Her anniversary is coming up and I want to make sure you and your brother pay your respects.”
Hunter closed his eyes and fought back the ache in his chest. “Dad, she’s been gone for ten years. Maybe Chris and I should do something else, like take you out for lunch. All you do is sit around in that big house every day and—”
“Never mind about me. You see to my Gracie. Remind your brother to send flowers and visit her at the cemetery. Neither of you boys should be forgetting her.”
Hunter crumpled the message from his father in his hand. “We can never forget about her.”
An edgy silence filled the phone line. “Well, I just wanted to remind you…and no changes to my company, Hunter. You keep my publishing house like it has always been. That’s what works. Don’t be jumping on all these new book fads. I know the e-book thing has gotten big just like you predicted, and I agreed with converting the company to the whole paperless nonsense, but that is technology and not entertainment. Our books have always been bestsellers.”
“But readers are changing.”
“Yeah, I know. Your brother told me of your desire to put more sex in our books. But that is not the kind of publisher we are. We don’t publish porn. You want to publish crap like that, then fine, do it when I’m dead and buried next to your mother. But while I’m breathing, Donovan Books will stay as it is.”
Hunter could tell by the tone of his father’s voice that the discussion was finished. It was the way he had always been. What Jim Donovan said was law around the Donovan household. His mother had been the only person ever able to change his father’s mind. Gracie Donovan could flash her pretty smile, bat her green eyes, and all of Jim Donovan’s ultimatums and shouting would go out the window.
Thinking it best to avoid further argument, Hunter decided to agree with his father…for now. “All right, Dad. Donovan Books will stay as you envisioned.”
“Good boy. Don’t forget to speak to your brother about the anniversary.”
“I won’t, Dad.” Hunter tossed the crumpled yellow paper in his hand to his trash can. “I’ll call you soon.” He quickly hung up.
“Is our old man on your ass again?” a painfully familiar voice spoke out from the doorway.
Hunter felt his misery complete when he spotted his brother. Decked out in a fitted double-breasted blue suit that showed off his blue eyes, Chris Donovan strutted in the door, making Hunter’s stomach recoil.
“He called me this morning, too, but I never got back to him,” Chris admitted, eyeing the collection of statues on the bookshelf. “Are you ever going to get rid of that stuff?”
“No,” Hunter replied. “You know how he feels about those statues.”
Chris shook his head. “Old man was always obsessed with that guy.”
“He wants us to take flowers to Mom’s grave. The anniversary of her death is coming up.”
“So it is. I forgot about that.” Chris arched a graying eyebrow. “I’ll have something delivered to her grave from both of us.”
Hunt
er shook his head, disgusted with his brother’s casual disregard. “He wants us to visit her, not just send flowers, Chris.”
“Why? East View Cemetery is an hour away, and neither one of us have time for that kind of drive.” Chris strolled up to his desk. “I’ll just tell him we went over there and he won’t know the difference.”
“You lie to Dad with such ease.” Hunter folded his arms over her chest. “I always wondered how you could do that.”
“Don’t start, Hunter. You get that holier than thou attitude like you were the good son and I was the bad one, when you know damn well it was the other way around.”
“Don’t give me that horseshit, Chris. You know I wasn’t the one who came home every—”
“Excuse me?” a female voice called from the doorway.
Hunter turned to see Cary’s eyes volleying between the two men.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I had a question.”
Chris momentarily leered at Cary. “Well, hello. You’re a new face around here.”
Hunter’s gut twisted with disgust. He knew Cary was just Chris’s type: petite, and more like a little girl than a woman. Hunter had seen that same quality in Monique Delome, and he knew Chris had recognized it in Cary.
“I’m Cary Anderson.” She came into the office with her hand extended.
Chris hastily moved across the office, and then eagerly took her hand firmly in his. “I’m Chris Donovan. Co-owner of the company.” Chris held on to her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary before she pulled away.
“Co-owner? Since when?” Hunter’s eyes swerved to Cary. “My brother manages most of our authors. He sets up their book tours, arranges media appearances, and is their all-around gopher.”
Chris’s blue eyes glared at his brother. “I am not a gopher.” He pivoted to Cary. “I manage the PR for the authors at Donovan Books, which means I have a very important job. Unlike my brother, I have to be out in the public, selling our authors to media outlets, talk shows, and reviewers.”
Cary gave him a tolerant smile. “How nice for you.”
Hunter hid his amused grin. He was beginning to like this woman.
“My brother never told me he hired anyone new,” Chris went on, not seeming to notice her slight. “What will you be doing for our esteemed publishing house?”
“Cary is our new chief editor,” Hunter jumped in. His eyes pleaded with her to go along with him. “She will be overseeing all the lines.”
“Chief editor?” Chris leaned in closer to her, appearing smug. “That is something. My brother never wanted to hire a chief editor before because he likes to micromanage everything.” Chris’s eyes drifted up and down her slender figure. “I’m surprised he’s relinquishing control to you. Where will your office be?”
“Why are you so interested, Chris?” Hunter snapped.
Chris spun around to his brother. “Just wondering where you were going to put her, since the office you have for our other editors is rather cramped.”
“I have a place in mind,” Hunter coolly returned.
Chris faced Cary, wearing a synthetic smile. “Just make sure you’re happy with your new office. If not, let me know and I will pull some strings.”
She curiously eyed Hunter, standing behind his brother. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure it will be fine. I think I’ll be too busy doing my job to be concerned about my office space. I have a lot of ideas for Donovan Books.”
Chris gingerly placed his hand beneath her elbow. “Really? I would love to hear about your ideas. Perhaps we could get together for drinks sometime and discuss them.”
Cary’s eyes rotated back to Hunter’s scowl. “I would like that, Mr. Donovan.”
“Chris, please,” he insisted. “We don’t stand on formality at Donovan Books.”
As Chris escorted Cary to the door, Hunter recognized the hint of lust in his brother’s blue orbs. At the door, Chris let go of her arm. “I will see you again, Cary, since I spend a great deal of time here.”
“You do?” Hunter blurted out. “That’s news to me.”
Chris gave him a contemptuous sneer and once again turned back to Cary. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Cary.” Without looking back at Hunter, Chris waved his hand and walked through Hunter’s office door. “I’ll talk to you later, Hunts,” he called over his shoulder.
After his brother had left, Hunter’s body sagged with relief. Sometimes he did not know who was worse, his brother or his father.
Cary thumbed the doorway. “Is he really your brother?”
“Yeah, older brother by eight years.” Hunter took a step closer to her. “I apologize for his…I think our mother dropped him on his head a lot when he was small.”
She let out an adorable short giggle. “Are there any more Donavan’s working here?”
“First of all, my brother does not work here, and no, it’s just the two of us, which according to my mother was plenty.”
“That must have made for an interesting home life.”
“Uncomfortable, aggravating, even infuriating at times, but it was never interesting. We’re not the closest of families.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” she added with a grin.
Now it was Hunter’s turn to laugh. “Was it that obvious how much we hate each other?”
She pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Just a smidge.”
Hunter combed his hand through his curly hair, feeling a tickle rising in his gut. “Chris was always very competitive, so everything between us was a contest growing up. Still is.”
“Why does he get to manage the authors while you’re left to run the company?”
“He never wanted the day-to-day grind of my job. Chris always wanted lots of attention when we were growing up, and that’s why he likes living in the limelight of the writers he manages.”
Cary leveled her brown eyes on him. “Why didn’t you want to tell him about my real job?”
He frowned and went to his office window. Peering out to the small patch of green grass across the street, he tried to find a way to explain his situation to her.
“My father was pretty adamant when I took over that I never change anything about the business. He’s still that way, and unfortunately my brother agrees with him. They both feel we need to stay with that wholesome, sweet image we have, but I want to upend that image.” He faced her. “Donovan Books needs to get edgier to attract a brand new type of writer like your friend, Smut Slut. I read her new manuscript and thought it was pretty graphic, but it was also very well-written and the story was timely and exactly what we need. I just don’t want to say anything to either of them yet, until I get this first book out there. If we can make The Bondage Club hit some really high sales numbers, then I know my brother and father will change their minds.”
Cary stood before his desk with her arms folded over her chest, carefully weighing his words. “You sound pretty passionate about this new line.”
He stood for a moment, dazed by her comment. No one had ever called him passionate about anything. Remembering why the woman was in his office, Hunter tried to regain his businesslike composure. “Was there something you needed to see me about?” he questioned.
“Yeah, I was just wondering what you wanted me to call the new division, I mean besides erotica. Most publishing houses give their line a name.”
Hunter clasped his hands behind his back. “What would you suggest?”
“I always liked the name ‘Hot Nights’ for an erotica line.”
He pondered the name, and a slew of advertising possibilities rushed to the forefront of his thoughts. “Hot Nights by Donovan Books. I like it. There’s a lot of potential there.”
She gave him a warm smile that caused his belly to ignite. “Hot Nights it is.”
He waited as she sailed out of the room, her green dress flowing behind her. Heading behind his desk, he plopped down with a dull thud into his chair. As he contemplated working side-by-side with Cary for hours on end, he also reca
lled the way his brother had drooled over her. Hunter may have found Cary attractive, but he was damn sure his brother had already set his sinister sights on the woman. And when Chris Donovan wanted a woman, he was ruthless in getting her.
Irritation stirred in Hunter’s belly as he thought of Chris pawing his new employee and eventually getting what he desired out of her. Usually he would stand aside and let his brother do whatever he pleased with a woman, but this time Hunter wasn’t going to remain passive. He had to safeguard his company’s future, and if Cary Anderson was going to be an integral part of that future, Hunter needed to keep her away from his lecherous brother.
Struck by an idea, Hunter hit the intercom button on his office phone. “Julia, call Bryan at our storage facility. Tell him I’ve a job for him to do.”
* * *
After lunch, Hunter was at his oak desk, going through the slew of e-mails he received every day when Cary knocked on his open office door.
“I’ve finished up with the ladies in accounting. If you just tell me where my office is, I will get settled in.”
Hunter pointed to a dark wooden desk in the corner of his office. “You’re going to be in here with me.”
Cary eyed the desk. “That wasn’t there before.”
“No, I had it brought from our storage facility while you were in accounting.” He stood from his chair. “I figured since we will be working so closely together on this new line, it might be better for us to share an office in the beginning.”
She went to the desk and ran her hand lovingly over the smooth surface. “Sure I won’t cramp your style?”
Hypnotized by the way her hand caressed the wood, Hunter inched closer to her side. “For you to learn the workings of this place, and for me to learn everything I can about erotica, we need to be together,” he told her as she went behind the desk. “Once we have launched our Hot Nights line, I can have a new office prepared for you. Until then, I honestly don’t have any other place to put you.” Hunter waited as she opened the drawers and inspected the black leather desk chair. “Your computer will be installed tomorrow. Your phone line the day after that. If you need additional room, let me know and I can have a bookcase and file cabinet brought over for you.”
The Bondage Club Page 5
