In Over Her Head (Corporate Chaos Series Book 1)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Marly ran to her cubicle and grabbed her purse then headed back toward the elevator. Pressing the G button, she realized she had no idea how she would know which car was Jasper's. Since this was New York City, the front of the building was on a main street. Taxis stopped there all the time, and cars would double park there, but how was she going to know which one was his, especially as it was dark out?

  She stepped out of the elevator, her heels clicking as she walked across the huge marble lobby to the main doors. She said good night to the security guard, and he buzzed her out.

  The cool air felt good on her face as she stepped outside. She instantly went from the cool quietness of the office to the hustle and bustle of the warm, humid city streets filled with the smell of diesel and the sound of horns honking and people yelling.

  She was hesitantly walking down the large steps that led to the street when a red car pulled up. She wasn't sure what kind it was, but it was the shiniest vehicle she had ever seen. The windows were tinted black, and she couldn't see inside. Her instincts told her it was Jasper. She approached slowly as the driver's-side door opened and Jasper emerged, crossing in front of the car to the passenger side.

  "Allow me." He opened the door for Marly, and she slid inside, sinking into the buttery-soft leather, which cradled her as if it were custom made for her body. The car was a perfect seventy-eight degrees and had that pleasant new-car smell that Marly always loved.

  "So where are we headed?" Jasper asked her as he slowly weaved in and out of traffic. Even though it was nine p.m., the streets were full, as usual.

  "West Easton Street," Marly said, amazed at how smooth the car rode. "This car is gorgeous," she commented, almost to herself.

  "Thanks. I know it isn't practical to have a car in the city, especially when I live next door to where I work." Jasper chuckled as he said this. "I just like to drive. It takes my mind off of things."

  "I've never had a car. I grew up in the city and just never really needed one. But when it's snowing or raining out, I sure wish I did." Marly hoped she didn't sound stupid.

  "Well, it looks like we have something in common. I grew up in the city, too, and this is my first car. I never had one before this." Jasper slowed down, as traffic was almost at a standstill up ahead due to the ever-constant night construction in the city.

  Marly relaxed a tad. Jasper didn't seem as if he was trying to put the moves on her, and he was actually kind of nice. She smiled at the thought of her and Jasper Kenney having something in common. He probably had chauffeured limousines his whole life, and she had been lucky to have money to take the subway.

  She wondered where he had grown up. Probably some giant penthouse on Park Avenue. She'd grown up in a townhouse, which was actually very nice, but was probably the size of Jasper's bathroom. Her father had owned his own plumbing company and worked long hours to provide for his family, which was probably what led to his heart attack five years ago. Marly had always felt guilty about that.

  Jasper turned the car down West Easton Street.

  "It's in the middle. You can pull over anywhere," Marly said, eager to get out even though the ride hadn't been awkward as she'd envisioned. Thank God she lived so close to work.

  Jasper pulled the car over, and before Marly knew it, he had jumped out and was opening her door for her. He extended his hand, and she instinctively reached for it. She tried to act smooth as she stepped out, but with her being the klutz that she was, her heel missed the curb and she fell back, prompting Jasper to pull on her hand. She stumbled against him, feeling hard muscles and smelling the spicy scent of aftershave.

  She pushed away from him and stumbled onto the sidewalk.

  "Sorry about that. My car isn't the best curbside. It's so low." Jasper's voice was husky.

  Marly tried to keep her tone light. "No worries. It's such a gorgeous car. Thanks again for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Kenney."

  "You're welcome. Good work today!"

  She thought she heard him sneeze as she practically ran down the sidewalk to her townhouse, her pulse skittering like a frightened rabbit's.

  She heard the light toot of his car horn and turned around in time to see him wave as his car sped by. A feeling of giddiness bubbled up inside her. Jasper Kenney liked her work!

  But the small sliver of happiness she allowed herself to feel was crushed when she reached her door and saw a notice on it. She ripped it off, her hands trembling as she read it.

  Foreclosure.

  It was from the bank. She crumpled it up, throwing it down in the foyer as she walked inside. For the second time that day, tears threatened, and this time she let them fall.

  There wasn't much of a mortgage left, but after her father died, she and her mother had struggled to make the payments. They had managed until last year, when everything had started to happen.

  She headed upstairs, wiping the salty tears from her cheeks. Any career-advancement thoughts she'd entertained soured. She couldn't risk getting in deeper than she already was, not when she was closer than ever to being able to fix all her problems.

  Jasper watched Marly in the rearview mirror as he pulled out into traffic. His mother had raised him to be a gentleman, so he'd offered to give her a ride. His father would probably admonish him for spending time with one of the worker-bees, but Marly was a nice kid. Well, not really a kid, as he guessed she was in her late twenties—not that much younger than him—but she was still fairly new in fashion design.

  She didn't exactly dress the part, though, he thought as he watched her walk into her building. Maybe they weren't paying her enough. His gaze drifted from her somewhat outdated suit and lingered on her calves, which were made even more shapely by her high heels.

  Honk!

  Jasper jerked his head forward, his quick reflexes saving him from smashing into the car coming up on his left.

  What the hell was he thinking?

  Jasper shook his head, picturing the sour look on his father's face if he knew that Jasper had almost smashed up the Ferrari because he was looking at a mere woman. Heck, even though Jasper wasn't interested in a relationship, he could still look.

  Thing was, he liked Marly. She wasn't stuck up or pretentious. She didn't try to put the moves on him or seem at all interested in his money. Not to mention her idea for the clothing line was spot on. And she had a sweetness about her, which could be a disadvantage. Marly was out of her league pitted against the sharks in the sales office at Draconia. She'd have to watch her back—or maybe he would have to watch it for her.

  He glanced back one more time as she disappeared through her door. A feeling of protectiveness washed over him, and his eyes automatically scanned the sidewalk to make sure no one was following her. New York City could be a dangerous place, and he didn't like the thought of any harm coming to her.

  The traffic eased up, and he pushed down the gas pedal, feeling the hum of the motor as his sweaty palm shifted gears.

  Pushing the car harder, he headed toward the highway, planning to run the car as fast as he could.

  4

  The next morning, Jasper stepped off the elevator and was immediately met by Veronica St. James.

  "Mr. Kenney, Mr. Henderson and Mr. Quirk would like to meet with you as soon as possible. You do have an opening at eight thirty. It's regarding Miss West, I believe." Veronica sneered as she said "Miss West." "You know, the girl who—"

  "I know who she is." Jasper cut her off a little more sharply than he had intended. Veronica had worked for him for years, and while she was extremely efficient at her job, he did not like her penchant for drama. Plus, he got the feeling she wanted more than an employer-employee relationship, and he was not in the least bit interested. "Send them up now."

  Veronica turned and sashayed to her desk, calling the two department heads and telling them they could meet with Jasper now.

  Jasper looked across his desk at Bill Henderson, VP of Sales, and Steve Quirk, VP of Marketing. They had come to ask why Marly W
est was given access to their departments' files. They weren't happy about it.

  "I understand your concerns. Ms. West is working on a special project, directly for me. I authorized her access. She will be presenting at the weekly meetings, effective immediately, and at that time I'm sure you will understand why," he said dryly. He didn't like to be questioned, and certainly not about something that was the result of these two individuals dropping the ball in their areas. Lack of sales wasn't acceptable.

  Bill and Steve looked at each other.

  "Jasper, our main concern is her background, her experience. I mean, she's fairly new in the fashion industry. She's only been here a month, and let's face it, she doesn't exactly scream 'style.'" Bill Henderson was always the most outspoken one in the room. Jasper liked that about him. Usually.

  Jasper frowned. "What does that mean? Style?"

  Steve chimed in. "Jasper, she sticks out like a sore thumb here."

  Jasper's blood boiled, not only in defense of Marly, but also in defense of his company. Was that what his VPs thought was important? Looks? No wonder sales were slipping. Then again, wasn't this what his father had always drilled into them? Into him?

  Jasper stood up, looking down at the two men. Maybe his father's outdated ideas were dragging the company down.

  "And why is that?" he demanded. "Because she isn't an emaciated Barbie doll? Because she doesn't wear the same designers the other women in this office do, even though most of them probably aren't able to pay their rent because they are paying a thousand dollars for a pair of shoes?

  "You two are both at least twenty pounds overweight. Do you realize that? This company doesn't just run on the looks of people. It runs on the ability of the senior executives to create, evaluate, and implement what is necessary to maintain Draconia's lead in the fashion industry.

  "You two dropped the ball with the new line. The fact that someone who has minimal experience in this industry was able to figure that out should embarrass you." Jasper spoke in clipped, even tones, reining himself in so as to refrain from yelling at the two men.

  Bill and Steve's faces turned red. They nodded in silence, knowing better than to argue with Jasper when he was like this. Without a further word, they stood and left.

  Jasper looked out his window. He had given Marly a lot of responsibility. And it wasn't like him to take on a new person, an unknown, and bring them into the circles of upper management. No wonder Steve and Bill were so shocked.

  A seed of doubt took root in his stomach. Had he given that assignment to Marly because of her abilities, or was there another reason? Why had he defended her like that in the meeting?

  For the first time ever, he questioned his judgment. No, he had done the right thing. Marly had brought data to light that the others had ignored … or hidden. Draconia's sales had been dwindling, and Marly did have good points and a great perspective, something that no one else had brought to the table.

  He glanced at the mahogany-framed photo of his mother that sat on the credenza. She'd died twelve years ago, but he could still feel her influence. Still feel her comforting presence. Still smell her gardenia-scented perfume. His early decisions had been guided by doing what his mother would think was right. Jasper was startled to realize that he'd gotten away from that recently, especially since he'd taken over the company. Was he turning into a carbon copy of his father?

  His mother had been smart and sweet. The complete opposite of his father. His mother had taught him to value people for what was on the inside, not how they looked. His father was more interested in appearances, and clearly that attitude had rubbed off on the Draconia executive team. But Jasper hadn't done much to change that since he'd taken over. Maybe now was the time.

  He couldn't believe Bill and Steve's remarks about Marly's appearance. What did that have to do with her skills on the job? Besides, Jasper thought she looked fine. Healthy. In fact, he preferred her look to the skinny women that his father liked to hire.

  Thoughts of his father made his stomach clench. Edward felt that anyone who wore over a size four was fat, which was ridiculous, but Jasper would never have the courage to tell him that. His father had built an empire based on that way of thinking. He had also gone through three wives, all who seemed more interested in his money than an actual marriage.

  Jasper hadn't had much luck in that department, either. He had never married and had never had a serious relationship, as the women all seemed drawn to his money. He typically had a girlfriend for a few weeks, and then he would dump her and move on to the next.

  Jasper leaned back in his chair and smiled at the thought of the stodgy old men's club that made up the Draconia executive team being bested by a woman. Draconia had been, for the most part, a man's company all these years. They had never even had a woman on the senior executive team. It wasn't because he was against it—it was that no one had ever been aggressive enough to earn a spot. The women all seemed to be too busy competing in the fashion area to move ahead in their careers. He felt Marly West might be a game-changer. He hoped his instincts were right. Otherwise, he was going to be eating a lot of crow.

  5

  Tanner Durcotte paced back and forth in his office. He hadn't heard from Marly in a few days. Not acceptable. She should know better—he wasn't a patient man. Fall was fast approaching, and he was under the gun at Theorim to increase sales, somehow. His phone rang, and he picked it up immediately.

  "Where have you been? You need to keep me updated daily, Marly. Every day," Tanner almost yelled to her.

  "Tanner, calm down. This isn't going to happen overnight. You knew that. Just because you don't hear from me doesn't mean I am not working on the plan. In fact, it's going better than I could have imagined. I expect that within two weeks, I will have something solid for you." Marly's voice was barely above a whisper. She must be at work, where she couldn't talk. So what? Tanner didn't care if she got into trouble except for the fact that he needed her there until she got him what he wanted.

  "Two weeks?" Tanner screeched. "No. That is too long, Marly. I need something in one week. No longer. Otherwise, the whole thing is off." He hung up on her abruptly.

  Marly scowled at the phone in her hand. Tanner was impossible to deal with. He was asking for too much, too soon. But she had to figure out how to get it done faster now. Her thought process was interrupted by a cheerful-sounding, "Hi, Marly."

  Turning around, she saw Sarah Thomas.

  "Oh, hi, Sarah! Happy Monday." Marly grinned.

  "Ugh. I hate Mondays. Did you have a good weekend? I spent mine studying. Not much fun." Sarah rambled on as they both walked toward the elevators.

  "I spent mine working, so I guess we are even. What are you studying, anyway?" Marly asked her. Sarah was too old to be a full-time college student, unless she was going for her master's or studying to be a lawyer or something.

  "Food! Well, I already have a degree in finance. I spent some time in the field and hated it. Then I switched to fashion, but that didn't take either. But I've always loved food, love to cook, so I decided that was my real calling. My parents weren't happy with all my career changes, but oh well. I'm paying for it myself. So the studying is actually cooking and learning about different methods, et cetera. It's pretty cool," Sarah explained to Marly, her smile cheerful. Marly really liked her—she was so down to earth.

  The elevator stopped at Marly's floor. "Well, here's my stop. I'll talk to you later."

  "Okay. Maybe we can do lunch later on. I'm in early all this week and not used to having to fend for myself for lunch," Sarah said, laughing as the doors closed shut.

  Marly walked to her cube, smiling. Sarah was the first person who had actually tried to have a conversation with her since she had been here. It felt good.

  Her mind wandered back to Tanner, and she realized she needed to work on that issue. And fast. She sat at her computer and accessed the server that had the company's couture designs on it. There was a file that contained the designs that had b
een rejected for previous years. She had an idea. She picked up her phone and texted Tanner.

  "Meet me at Café Lazure at eight tonight." She glanced around to make sure no one could see what she was doing and started to implement her idea.

  When Marly got to Café Lazure later that night, Tanner was already seated, with what looked like a vodka tonic in front of him. She paused in the door, her mouth curling up in disgust as she looked at the back of his balding head. She hated having to deal with him, but there was no other way.

  How had things gotten so far out of hand? Tanner and his wife, Emily, had been close family friends. Or so she'd thought. Marly's heart sunk as she remembered her mother sitting at Emily's bedside while she had chemotherapy. Cooking meals for Tanner. Tanner had been nice back then, like a kind old uncle. But after Emily died, Tanner had turned mean. And when Marly's mother had needed help, Tanner had offered, and Marly had had no choice but to accept.

  She walked to the table, a large manila folder clutched in her hand. She slid into a chair across from Tanner and ordered a glass of white wine from the waitress.

  "I am still working on it. But since you insisted on getting started, I brought these. I think they will help you get on your way." Marly pushed papers across the table to him. There were four pages of designs, with information on all the materials, estimated revenue, everything.

  Tanner's beady eyes lit up as he looked through them.

  "Excellent. Excellent. Wait. These are dated three years ago. What's up with that?"

  Marly's heart lurched. She was hoping he wouldn't notice the date. She told herself not to panic. She hadn't been able to alter the designs in any way, due to her access level. She knew the dates on it were three years old. She was ready for this question.

  "They've been working on the designs for three years, Tanner. That's how good these are. They were waiting to roll out the line for a specific price point and consumer—young women. So that's why other lines were released before this." Hopefully she sounded convincing enough that Tanner bought it.