by Mia Carson
Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT:
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
JILTED GROOM
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
Three Months Later
CONNECT
COPYRIGHT:
No part of this books shall be reproduced in any form or manner without the written permission of the author.
Copyright 2017 Mia Carson
Chapter 1
“Hey, Freddie! Aren’t you going to be late?”
Frederica Sable—Freddie for short because she was appalled by the name her darling mother had stuck her with—popped her head out her bedroom door. “What time is it?”
“Well past time for you to be gone, young lady,” Rosie, her eighty-something-year-old next-door neighbor chided. “You know what traffic’s like down there. What’s wrong with you today? Sick or something?”
“No, not sick,” she called back.
Only one year had passed since she had joined the software company, LM Solutions, and she’d managed to earn herself the nickname, Ms. Punctual. She was never late and never sick, despite how crazy her life was outside of the office. Today, though, was different. She tugged on her bright blue pencil skirt and readjusted the white blouse tucked in at her waist. Her blue pumps matched almost perfectly, as did the blue beaded necklace, bracelet, and matching earrings. This outfit was a gift to herself after working her ass off for so long. Altogether, it had cost a pretty penny, but damn, it was worth it. She’d meant to save it for a special occasion—like what would have been her first annual office party for ending another great fiscal year. However, a company takeover was good too. Sadly, her current company was not doing the takings over.
Macon Brothers Developers, one of the largest software companies on the west coast, was taking over. Her tiny, family-feeling company couldn’t compete.
“You’ve got this,” she told her reflection, fluffing out her long, blue-black hair again so the curls ran down her back. “You’re going to keep your job. That was the deal.”
Many of the older employees were taking the generous retirement packages the Macon company had offered to cut back on numbers. Those who weren’t close to retiring, like Freddie, had a chance to keep their job if they wanted it. She’d heard rumors, though, that the new management would give everyone a critical once-over to ensure they were a good fit for the new direction the company would take. Freddie had no direct dealings with software. She was in marketing and liked to think her track record had value.
“You’re never going to make it if you don’t leave now,” Rosie said, whistling from Freddie’s bedroom doorway. “My, don’t you look like the spitting image of your mother today.”
Freddie smiled graciously at the compliment. “I’ll never look that good.”
“What have I told you about selling yourself short?”
“I know, I know,” she muttered. “Thanks, by the way, for picking up my slack and seeing Clarice these past few weeks.”
Rosie waved a wrinkled hand. “Don’t mention it. She knows you’re trying your best.”
“It’s not good enough, though. I should be visiting her every day.”
Rosie took Freddie’s young hands in her old ones. “You do what you can, that’s what matters. You’re still young, Freddie, remember that now and again.”
“Young, right. I haven’t been young since Dad ran off and Mom died,” she muttered.
“Clarice has been doing better. Maybe she can come home soon, and it won’t be such a strain.”
Freddie clung to that hope like a lifeline every month when she sat down with her sister’s doctors to hear how she was progressing. And every month, they told her she was still too unstable to live in a household where no one could watch her twenty-four/seven. Clarice was special, had always been a creative girl with wild dreams. When she turned eleven, her life changed and her imagination took over her life. Freddie and her mother learned she had schizophrenia, and Clarice went downhill soon after. Currently, she resided at a medical institution for those with mental illnesses, and the program was great. Most days, Clarice seemed coherent enough to carry on full conversations.
But the bad days always came one way or another and would drag her right back down. The place was expensive, too. Freddie was thankful her mom had had the tiny house nearly paid off before she died and her life insurance covered almost all that was left.
“Right, work,” she said and shook her head. “I may be late tonight.”
“I’ll leave you some dinner. I know you haven’t been eating.”
“What? I have so,” she argued, slinging her black, well-worn purse over her shoulder.
“Don’t you lie to me, young lady. I saw your fridge. Bare bones. That boy of yours should make sure you eat.”
Freddie was tempted to agree, but Mack was usually so busy with his own job as a publicist in LA, he was as bad as she was about eating. “I’ll be fine. Tell Clarice I love her and I’ll be by as soon as I find time this week.”
“I will. Now scoot before you’re late.”
Freddie climbed behind the wheel of her beat-up old Beetle and left the suburbs behind. Traffic was atrocious, as always, but she was more worried about what her first day under the new boss would be like. She blasted the radio as Katy Perry sang, boosting her confidence that today would be great. No one would take her job away from her. When she parked and shut the music off, though, her confidence wavered and she gripped the steering wheel in sudden panic.
If they fired her, she had maybe a month’s worth of money saved up before she would have to find another job. She and Mack had talked about moving in together a few times, but he never came through for her. If she didn’t have to deal with the mortgage on her own on top of Clarice’s medical bills, life would be much more manageable. He had mentioned moving her to the city, but that was too far away from the care Clarice needed. Maybe tonight, she’d surprise him with takeout and bring it up again in case she found herself without a job.
Her heels clicked across the lobby floor, and she flashed her badge to the security guard, Gary. “Morning, Gary,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Ah, now, don’t you be nervous,” Gary assured her.
“No? How bad is it so far? Am I late?”
“Young lady, you’re one of the first here every morning, even on the days you think you’re late,” he teased with a warm laugh. “And so far, I haven’t heard any grumbling from upstairs.”
“Good, that’s good.” She waved at him again and marched to the elevator.
Her small cubicle was located on the second floor with the rest of the marketing team, taking up half the floor, with accounting on the other half. Their building was small, only four stories, and usually lost amongst the taller, more modern skyscrapers surrounding them. The place had charm the others lacked, having been around for a hundred years. Some of its age showed, but in her one year there, none of the other employees complained about the faint odor when it rained or the way the lights flickered randomly when they warme
d up for the day. And Freddie had learned early on to save her work every few minutes, just in case.
“Morning, Freddie,” Ian said, walking with her when she stepped off the elevator. He worked in accounting and had started one year before she did.
“Morning.” She glanced around the floor at the early arrivers going about their day as normal. “Well, I don’t see any craziness, considering this is the first day of the takeover.”
“I think Tom stole a few staplers,” Ian said absently. “And said something about leaving a surprise for the new CEO in his office, but I think Muriel talked him out of it.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Have you met him yet?”
“Rhett Macon? No, not yet, but there’s an e-mail about a brief introduction today.”
“Brief? He’s taking over a company and he’s going to give his new employees a brief introduction?” She huffed when they reached her cubicle, tucking her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk and booting up her machine. The computer was a few years behind the latest models, but it functioned well enough for her. Most days. The monitor flickered and she tapped the side until the image steadied. “How old is this guy?”
“Twenty-something.”
“So one of us could be running the company, if that’s the case,” she said, and Ian grinned in agreement. “Guess I’ll see you at the briefing.”
“Sounds fun,” he uttered and waltzed away, his nose buried in the papers he carried.
Freddie could only imagine how terrible accounting would be for a while and felt thankful she was not in that department. She logged into the system and her full inbox greeted her. She tapped her blue nails on her keyboard before pushing back in her chair, bumping the cubicle wall as she always did, and marched to the breakroom for coffee. She greeted a few of her fellow co-workers, but the breakroom was certainly less full than it usually was at this time of the morning. She made a note to ask Ian later about how many employees had left.
Coffee in hand—black like her mom drank it—she leaned against the counter in the breakroom, listening to the morning gossip around the office. A group of men walked by the door, and she studied them in their sharp suits and young faces. Two of them gawked openly at her, and her finger itched to give them the bird before they were dragged away.
“Great. I guess that briefing’s starting,” Muriel said as she moved to lean beside Freddie.
“Wait, one of those guys was the CEO?” she asked, nearly choking on her coffee. “They all look younger than me!”
“You’re not too far off. I heard the CEO brought in three of his friends to become the new heads of departments.” Muriel sipped her coffee, shaking her greying head of curls. “Maybe I should have retired.”
“And leave me and Ian? No way. What would we do without you?”
Muriel eyed her and grinned. “Get yourselves into way too much trouble. How’s your sister?”
Freddie started to nod, but she hung her head. “The same. I saw the doctors last week. Her depression is back, worse than before. They showed me the pictures she sketched. I could barely look at them.”
“She’ll get better. It’s just going to take time, and you know it may never fully go away.”
Muriel squeezed her shoulder in support, and Freddie was grateful for it. Only a few people here knew about her sister, and she planned to keep it that way. Clarice didn’t embarrass her, far from it. The last thing Freddie wanted was people looking at her as if she might be the next one to hear voices or fall into depression. It ran in the family, after all. Her mom had it, and her grandmother. She was damn lucky she wasn’t locked up. The guilt over her younger sister was too much to bear some days. It should have been Freddie. She was the strong one, and Clarice was so innocent. None of it was fair.
“Let’s get this over with,” Muriel said grumpily and headed for the door.
Freddie and the rest of them followed, walking to the biggest boardroom their company had. There were not enough seats for everyone, so Freddie stood near the back of the room. The men she saw pass the breakroom stood at the front. She wondered which one of the extremely attractive men was her new boss.
It figures they’re all sexy as hell, she thought, giving each one a scrutinizing stare. One of them met her gaze and tilted his head curiously, his lips twitching into a grin. Yeah, two can play at the gawking game.
The man turned to the rest of the room and raised his hands for silence.
Shit! He’s the boss? Her cheeks warmed and she considered rushing from the room before he focused those hazel-brown eyes on her again.
“Good morning, everyone. I am Rhett Macon, your new CEO,” he announced loudly. He seemed friendly, but looks could be deceiving. “I’m happy to stand here before you all to introduce you to the new daughter company of Macon Brothers Developers.”
There was a smattering of polite applause. Freddie, still holding her coffee, refrained joining in.
“I know many of you are probably skeptical of how this takeover will go. I want to reassure each and every one of you who chose to stay that your jobs are secure.”
Freddie let out a relieved sigh along with most of the others in the room.
“You will help train the employees we’ll hire over the next few months to fill out the departments that need them. There may be some rearranging and restructuring,” he warned, “but I believe in an open-door policy. If you have any concerns—any at all—feel free to swing by my office any time.” His gaze lingered on Freddie, and her cheeks felt damn near on fire. His smile widened and he winked at her. The nerve of him to do that in front of everyone.
“The three men beside me will be the new managing team. Starting on the left is Jeremy Munchin, who will oversee accounting, Zach Gale, who is now your marketing go-to man, and Adam Blair, for software.”
Freddie shifted her gaze from the young CEO to Zach. He was a little on the shaggier side in his appearance, and she didn’t like the predatory glint in his eye when he turned towards her and a few other women in the room. If only she could work directly beneath Rhett, that she could handle.
“I do have one more announcement to make and then you can go about your day, though rest assured, I will speak with all of you one-to-one before the week is out. I like to get to know my employees,” Rhett promised. “The assistant for your former CEO, Lawrence Maize, has chosen to retire, which means the position is open. If anyone would like to apply for it, please feel free to leave your resume on my desk by the end of the day.”
Freddie perked up at that news. The personal assistant job meant more income, which meant less stress in her life. Her hands warmed from holding her coffee mug so tightly as excitement welled within her.
“Now, everyone have a great day at work, and if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to see me.” He shook a few hands of the employees towards the front of the room, but Freddie didn’t wait around. There was an inbox full of e-mails to get through and a resume to update before the end of the day.
Marketing was fun and exciting, but all things considered, the extra money was more important than her being perfectly happy. Besides, working under a man she could check out every day was not a bad idea. Mack might mind, but he spent his days around tall, leggy blondes with cleavage that could swallow Freddie’s head. She was allowed to have some eye candy of her own.
She had barely reached her desk when Zach wandered over and knocked on her cubicle wall.
“Frederica?” he asked politely.
“Yes,” she said, spinning around in her chair. He held out his hand and she shook it. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Oh, no sirs are necessary,” he assured her. “And Zach is fine. You work with the marketing team, I see. What do you do exactly?”
“Well,” she said slowly, taking in the stack of papers on her desk, “I am currently in charge of the social media side of our company. We’re large amongst local businesses and branching out to the east coast as well as internationally. Our software departm
ent has come a long way with creating programs to help companies function better, take care of more tasks, be more accurate, things like that.”
“And you promote it all through social media.”
“Yes and no. I also help with selling and seeing that we have space set up at technology conferences, colleges—pretty much wherever you see the big guys, we’re there too.”
Zach nodded, and she smiled, proud of her work, until his gaze slipped to her exposed cleavage and the slit in her skirt. Her smile remained fixed on her face, but her small cubicle was suddenly far too small for the two of them. He breathed in deep as if smelling her perfume.
“Well, that sounds fascinating. Just remember, everything will have to be changed so it contains the logo for Macon Brothers Developers.”
“Of course. I was briefed on the changes last week,” she told him.
“Good, that’s good. If you need anything while this transition takes place, swing by my office. I’m sure I can help you.” He backed out of her cubicle and wandered away, whistling.
Freddie sagged against her desk, rubbing her temples as a headache formed. “Resume. Update the resume and get out of this department.” She was not about to work under a man who stared at her like a fresh piece of meat.
The day passed slowly, and by the time Freddie could log out for the day, her resume was in hand to leave on Rhett’s desk. She had already called in the takeout to pick up on her way to Mack’s place. She thought of texting him first, but he always surprised her at the house. Tonight was her turn. Rhett’s office was empty, though the light was still on, so she slipped inside and dropped her resume on his desk. Crossing her fingers that he would choose her, she left and hurried to pick up the food.
When she’d reached Mack’s high-rise building in downtown LA, she drove around the block four times before a parking spot became available for her tiny Beetle. She grabbed the bag of food from the front seat and anticipated kicking off her heels and relaxing for an evening as she dug his key out of her purse. They’d been dating for two years and had keys to each other’s places for most of that time. She slipped the key in the lock, opened the door, and frowned when she stepped inside. She knew he was home; she’d seen his car parked out front. Voices came from the bedroom, and she could have sworn she heard the bed moving. He often took naps sometimes in the evening, and she wandered down the hall to consider sliding into bed with him.
