Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection

by Monica Corwin

  “Criticism for our first Ren Faire coming from the guy who dressed up like a Vulcan six years in a row for the Comic Con,” she said. She adjusted her sleeves to fall off her shoulders.

  He took a deep breath, jaw clenched. “I might not make it very long at this festival. Your maiden costume is causing a certain physiological reaction which is difficult to control.”

  Reese beckoned him nearer. “Then maybe you should do something about it before we go…”

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my editor, Mary Iamandi, at www.rendercompose.com for her hard work and for holding my hand to get this novella polished. Also, I want to thank my fabulous group of writer friends the Wattchicks: Debbie Goelz, Kristin Jacques, Tammy Oja, Keri-Lee Kroeger, Gabriela Cabezut, and Darly Jamison. You keep me going (and laughing) during the hard spots in life.

  The 12 Dares of Christmas

  Lauren Hall has one wish for Christmas this year—raise money to build a new, no-kill animal shelter for the town of Sycamore Cove. And she is prepared to do anything to make it happen. Even dare a man she just met to perform a strip tease for the local knitting society.

  Gabe Nicholson has one wish too—obtain the job of a lifetime to launch his career. Only his wishes get snowballed when his best friend's little sister hands him a pair of stripper pants and a bottle of eggnog-flavored body oil.

  It’s all sugar plums and mistletoe until a scandal caused by Lauren’s fundraiser threatens to ruin it all. With Gabe's work opportunities disappearing before his eyes and Lauren's fundraising efforts tanking, their game of dares stands to burn them both. Unless it ignites a spark of Christmas magic.

  A sizzling Christmas romance, available at http://leighwstuart.com/books/

  About the Author

  Leigh W. Stuart was born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri, daughter to an English teacher. Although she decided to be a writer by the age of six years old, she later talked herself out of it and went on to study French and German in college. She met her husband in Switzerland, where she studied abroad one year, and they now live there with their two children. Love of reading inevitably transformed into a love of writing and she is thrilled to begin a new adventure as an author of romance. Connect with her at http://leighwstuart.com/ for news and upcoming books!

  The Perks of Higher Ed

  N.D. Jones

  The Perks of Higher Ed © 2018 N.D. Jones

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  The Perks of Higher Ed

  Those who teach never cease to learn and a lesson on love is on the syllabus for two educators who are due for a little romance.

  When the air turns bitter cold and the leaves begin to change, the chilly campus of Eastern Bluebird College welcomes back students and faculty, old and new, to chilly Buffalo. Despite the dropping temperatures, things in the office of the Diversity Progress Committee are only starting to heat up. Upon her arrival to campus, Director Sky Ellis finds herself in a precarious situation. Having left her beloved hometown of Annapolis, Sky is suddenly thrust into an unwelcome situation, where a closely guarded introvert is suddenly in the position to accept new people into her life.

  When met with Dr. Malcolm Styles’ warm charm and inviting sense of humor, Sky finds herself wanting things she never considered were missing from her life. While an office romance is dangerously out of her comfort zone, Malcolm challenges Sky in ways that shape her as not only an individual but an educator. However, with her past carried so closely behind her, Sky realizes that it will take a little more than a handsome face to free herself from its grasp. It is only when they decide to grow together that true change can take shape and encourage both Malcolm and Sky to accept love from the most unlikely of places.

  1

  No.”

  “Come on. Why not?”

  “Did you really just whine those four words at me?”

  “Yeah, he did. He’s either devolved into a loser of epic proportions or the woman he wants is smokin’ hot.”

  “Okay, two things,” Malcolm raised his middle finger at his brother-in-law, Sean, “one, no one says ‘smokin’ hot’ anymore, and the only loser in the family is you. Two,” eyes shifted to his older sister, and his index finger went up, “you owe me a favor.”

  “For the record, Dr. Styles, that’s three things.” Sean took hold of Angie’s hand, where it rested on the sofa cushion between them, brought it to his lips, and kissed the palm. Her dark-brown eyes no longer shimmered with faith and happiness but flickered with shadows and disappointment.

  She didn’t return her husband’s smile, but she did reclaim her hand.

  “A degree in African American History doesn’t mean I’m poor at math.” Malcolm’s response to Sean’s playful jibe came a touch too late for the comeback to sound unforced or his deliberate use of a stereotype enough to cover the harsh tenor of his voice.

  “I know, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just… well, you know, playing with you. Like old times.”

  Yeah, Malcolm knew. Seventeen years of friendship and eighteen years of marriage tested and damn near ruined because Sean Franklin, Esquire, couldn’t keep his dick out of his former legal assistant. The twenty-something UB law graduate thought the father of three would leave his wife and children for her. That kind of office romance had the wrong ingredients for sustainability. Cheating and lying weren’t sexy and romantic. They were poorly executed tropes committed by people without creativity but with an inflated sense of entitlement.

  Malcolm had no interest in that kind of office romance. People got hurt. People like Angela Styles-Franklin.

  “Listen, I came here to talk to my sister.”

  For uncomfortable seconds, Sean stared at Malcolm, a mixture of guilt, anger, and understanding in his eyes. At six-three, the civil rights attorney oozed confidence and built his legal career fighting injustice. Until six months ago, Malcolm respected the hell out of the guy as a person and as a professional. Now, he wavered between supporting Sean and Angie as they struggled to rebuild the embers Sean’s affair had reduced their marriage to and beating the big man’s ass for breaking Angie’s heart.

  “Right, right. We don’t talk anymore. I get it.” Sean looked at his wife, her five-three frame set in profile. Her skin, rich and dark, like his, radiated the same ageless beauty as their mother and aunts. Styles women, in Malcolm’s eyes, were unmatched in intelligence, stubbornness, and loyalty. “I know I messed up. With Angie, with the kids, with you. I’m trying to fix things.” Sean, relentless in his pursuit of what he wanted, leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. A quick peck, but also an intentional display of affection.

  Malcolm got the message. More importantly, so did Angie. Sean Franklin, the cheating bastard he’d turned into, wouldn’t give up on his marriage and wife no matter how anyone else felt about his mistakes, including Malcolm.

  He itched to punch him. Yet Malcolm couldn’t fault the man’s spine and fighting spirit. The two kept his firm busy and high-profile. U.S. News - Best Lawyers® ranked Franklin & Associates among the best regional law firms in civil right law in Buffalo, New York.

  Pushing to his feet, Sean nodded to Malcolm on his way out the liv
ing room. A couple of minutes later, he heard sounds coming from the kitchen where Sean had turned on the television. From what he could hear, the Mets were down one run to the Phillies. The second week of the baseball season was in full swing, and Malcolm couldn’t give a damn. He may prefer spring to fall, but football was his sport of choice.

  “One of these days, you’re going to have to forgive him.”

  “Have you?”

  The house smelled like a flower garden. The sweet fragrance of hyacinth overpowered the clove scent of the dozen red roses on the marble top coffee table in front of Angie. His sister liked flowers as much as any woman, but Sean’s expensive floral arrangements amounted to slapping a Band-Aid over a gaping wound.

  Bare feet lifted to the leather reclining sofa, wide and plush and still in good condition considering the way Angie and Sean’s children, fourteen, ten, and seven, sprawled over the furniture with no care or understanding of the cost. Their parents, Charles and Kimberly Styles, couldn’t afford half the items in either of the siblings’ homes. The Styles children, like too many of their east side Buffalo neighbors, had grown up in a household one paycheck from living on the streets.

  “I don’t want to talk about my marriage. You didn’t come here for that, anyway. Let me see the brochure.”

  Malcolm guessed he wasn’t much better than his nephew and nieces with the way he’d plopped on the ottoman instead of the chair behind it. He handed his sister the brochure and didn’t interrupt as she read.

  A decade may have separated them, but Angie never treated him like an annoying younger brother, even when he acted like one. No more than she confused the role of a sister with that of the mother.

  “SUNY’s Summer Leadership Retreat, really?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve never shown any interest in higher ed leadership beyond being African American Studies department chair. You don’t want to be a chief academic officer or dean, although, if you keep researching, publishing and presenting your papers, you could. And you certainly have no aspiration to claim a presidency.”

  “One college president in the family is enough. I enjoy teaching too much to ever give it up.”

  “I felt that way once.”

  “It’s not your fault. Chasing your dreams isn’t an excuse for Sean to chase young, convenient ass. You work long hours. It’s the nature of the beast. He’s a lawyer who didn’t have a firm handed to him. He damn sure knows what hard work and long hours look like and the impact on a marriage.”

  “I know. It all matters, though. Everything in marriage matters, even the stuff we don’t realize or even think about. Why are you running after a woman who doesn’t want to be caught or even chased?”

  “She wants both but doesn’t know it yet.” Angie spoke volumes through her snorts, so he added, “I’m not being arrogant or foolish.”

  “The fact that you pulled those words from inside you is more telling than if I would’ve said them.”

  “I knew you were thinking them. I spared you the time and another snort of disapproval. She likes me… I think.”

  “You think?”

  “She likes the way I look. I’m thirty-six, for god’s sake. I know when a woman finds me attractive, and she does.”

  “She would have to be blind not to. You’ve always been too handsome for your own good.”

  “That saying has never made any sense, no matter how many times you’ve said it to me.”

  “Oh, it makes plenty of sense. Ask… what’s the poor woman’s name who you want me to help you stalk?”

  “I’m not going to stalk her, and her name is Dr. Sky Ellis. She’s the new Director of Diversity & Inclusion at Eastern Bluebird College.”

  “How do you even know she’s going to attend this summer leadership retreat?” Angie shook the trifold brochure at him. “You also don’t need me to nominate you. You can self-nominate.”

  Malcolm pointed to himself. “Chair of an understaffed and struggling department.” Angie rolled her eyes, knowing him well enough to anticipate his next words and actions. He pointed at her anyway. “President of University at Buffalo. Which nomination will have the greater chance of getting me one of the thirty-five spaces?”

  “You want me to use my position to help you get a date. Unbelievable.”

  “It’s not as if I’m not a highly-qualified candidate.”

  “Highly-qualified, yes, but not highly motivated. You could possibly take someone’s spot who wants to be there.”

  “I do want to be there. Right next to Sky.”

  “The retreat is intended for institutional leaders who want to improve their leadership skills as they move along their career path. It’s not a dating service for the horny and smitten.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “Yes, the same answer I gave you ten minutes ago. There’s an ethical line here, M&M, and I won’t cross it for something as frivolous as a crush.”

  He hated when she was right, almost as much as he disliked how much he still loved his nickname.

  “I withdraw my other question. I don’t want to know how you know she’ll be attending the summer leadership retreat. Apply, and see what happens. Or just ask Dr. Ellis out.”

  “I did. She said getting involved with a colleague wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Well, there you have it then. She doesn’t want an office romance, no matter how attractive you think she finds you.”

  Malcolm and Sean may be on the outs right now, but they weren’t always. They had a lot in common, beyond their love for Angie and the kids. Tenacity, for one. Charm, for another.

  Sky never said she wasn’t interested in him, only that an office romance was “ill-advised with the potential for awkwardness and embarrassment when it ends.”

  There, the woman was wrong. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Malcolm pulled his cell from his pants pocket, found Sky’s number, and typed a message.

  “We’re in the middle of a conversation. Who are you texting?”

  “Sky.”

  “Geesh, you have her cell phone number? You are stalking her.”

  “I’m not. With her new position, she’s now the chair of the Diversity Progress Committee. I’ve been a member for years. Every member has each other’s cell number, including Sky’s. A committee meeting is how I found out she received an early acceptance to the leadership retreat. I overheard Sky talking to Dr. Mosby about her acceptance letter.”

  “You mean you eavesdropped on her conversation with a colleague.”

  “If you want to get all technical and judgmental about it, then yes.”

  When he finished typing the message, Malcolm ended it with a romantic emoticon. He’d downloaded the stickers to his phone a few weeks earlier and had waited for the perfect time to begin using them. He didn’t want to scare Sky off, so he didn’t send anything too forward. But he also wanted to make his intentions clear, so he added an emoticon with two emojis facing each other and sharing a spaghetti noodle. Okay, the noodle did loop, over a dinner plate, in a heart design and two small red hearts were between the smiling male and female emojis.

  Tenacious and charming, yes, subtle, not so much.

  “Let me see what you wrote.”

  “Now who’s being nosey?” Malcolm joined Angie on the sofa and handed her his phone. He watched her read the short message, waiting for a frown or snort. Neither came, to his surprise. Instead, she smiled.

  “This is good.”

  “Glad you approve. Do you think it’ll work?”

  “No, but it’s a good start.” Angie read the message again. “A very good start.”

  Malcolm took the phone from his sister, reread the text, and then, literally, patted himself on the back. He didn’t desire an office romance, although he would take one to begin. At thirty-six, Malcolm wanted to settle down and have everything Sean had taken for granted and nearly thrown away.

  What he didn’t know, but needed to find out, was whether Sky Ellis wanted the same
with him.

  Malcolm read his message again.

  16% of people met their spouse at work. The celestial sphere, a dome under which the sun, moon, and stars dance and sing in cosmic harmony, is an astrological phenomenon eclipsed only by the limitations of our vision and the gravity of our fears.

  “How many square feet?”

  “Seven hundred. The same as the last time you asked and the time before that.”

  “That’s one hundred eighty-nine square feet below the national average, one hundred forty-two below New York’s average, and one hundred ninety-seven below Maryland’s. How much are you allowing yourself to be ripped off in rent? And for what, to have a view of Niagara River? We have rivers in Maryland, you know? You didn’t have to go all the way to Buffalo for scenery. What about the weather? They get about twenty-five inches of snow in January. You don’t like snow, remember?”

  Sky rolled her eyes and plopped onto her bed, her hand clutching the wireless phone the way she wanted to squeeze her father’s throat until he shut up. Phones had Caller ID for a reason. Against her better judgment, she’d answered, knowing the obstinate man would keep calling until she did.

  Through the speakerphone and a pillow she’d buried her face in, Sky could hear her father, Retired Admiral Robert Joseph Ellis III, spout more pointless stats. He did this, using data to buttress a dead argument instead of letting it go and moving on. The old man knew all about moving on and letting go. He’d done it before.

  Sky didn’t say that, of course, not that she hadn’t in the past. She’d promised herself, after her father’s heart attack, to have more of an open mind and less of a closed heart. To forgive, if not forget. She hadn’t done either, which they both knew. Like much between them, however, it went unsaid. Well, unsaid on Sky’s part. Her father, on the other hand, had turned over an annoying new leaf. His five-hour coronary bypass surgery had left him with more than a physical scar. The man, at seventy-three, thought to fill decades of emotional neglect with belated fathering that long since passed the point of smothering.