Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for Celia T. Franklin
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong
Copyright
Dedications
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The sky had suddenly darkened, and rain came down in sheets. A loud clap of thunder rattled the glasses hanging from the bar. The sound startled her.
But the thunder wasn’t the real cause of her shock. A man wearing a hoodie paced outside the window. She caught his eyes glaring at her.
Dear God. Guido. What the hell? He’d followed her.
Marc looked up from his phone. “Is something wrong, Carmala?”
She flashed a glance at Marc and then to the window.
He followed her gaze. “Who’s that guy? Is he someone you know?”
Carmala’s face burned with embarrassment. Guido was such an asshole. She cleared her throat. “Actually, he’s, er, my boyfriend, Guido. He expected me home. Ah…I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize to me. Should we invite him in?” Marc glanced at his watch. “Actually, I have to scoot. I have a date with my wife. But I think we’re about through here. If you have any further questions, give me a call.” He motioned to the waiter for the check. “This is an exciting opportunity for you. You shouldn’t hesitate to take it.” The waiter produced the check. Marc examined it and inserted money in the bill folder.
“You’ll make the right decision, Carmala—about the job. Call me if you need me.” He kissed her cheek and quickly exited the bar.
Stunned, Carmala sat there for a moment, feeling miffed and mortified. How could Guido embarrass her this way in front of Marc?
Praise for Celia T. Franklin
“Like great chocolate, I simply could not stop devouring Celia T. Franklin’s new book, HAVING FUN WITH MR. WRONG, which explores the complexities of relationships and life. Mah-velous.”
~Vicki Batman, author of Temporarily Employed
Having Fun
with Mr. Wrong
by
Celia T. Franklin
Fun with Mr. Now Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Celia T. Franklin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Mainstream Women’s Fiction Edition, 2015
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0456-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0457-1
Fun with Mr. Now Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedications
First to the Palm City Word Weavers
At times I went home crying from those meetings
on Thursday night, but, overall, I learned and
those critiques made this story better.
To Candy Lyons
Thanks for the professional help and encouragement.
To my wonderful CP’s and beta readers,
whom I thank because without you this book
would never have been published.
Thank you to my wonderful editor at The Wild Rose Press, Roseanne Armstrong, the one who made The Call after numerous tries with multiple publishing sources. Roseann saw the value and shared the vision I had for this story. With her patience, sheer thoroughness, and numerous rounds of edits, we were able to pull together a polished to the max piece. I am eternally grateful to Roseann and though we kidded often about The Movie, you never know, we might just get that call as well, and I shall consult with her when that time arrives! And a big shout out to the staff at The Wild Rose Press for their professionalism and expertise.
To Randy
Dare I forget you, thanks for slugging my manuscript
to the fire department, sneaking all those big print jobs,
and reading material you would never voluntarily do
if it hadn’t been that you loved me.
And lastly, but most importantly,
to my mom, God rest her soul,
who told me time and time again that I can do
whatever I put my mind to.
Well, Rita Lucente, you were so right! Here’s to you.
Chapter One
He answered on the third ring.
“Guid, are you busy?”
“I’m never too busy for you, babe.”
Carmala Rosa’s heart fluttered at the sound of his sexy tone. Guido Cortollo, the boyfriend she loved but sometimes loathed, was one-hundred-percent hot Italian. She imagined his well-developed biceps flexing as he held the phone to his ear. And in this mid-September Manhattan Indian summer heat, she pictured the sweat dripping down his neck, causing his tight T-shirt to stick in all the right spots.
The sound of machinery running in the background at his construction site jolted her back to the moment. “Sounds like you are.”
“Ah, these guys are just cutting the drywall. I’m putting new electrical wiring in at the downtown Emerald Hotel. But I have a minute. What’s up?”
Carmala stood to peer over her cubicle. Satisfied there was no one eavesdropping, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s Steve. He’s putting the pressure on me to get this job done. I got here early and worked through lunch, but I’m flustered and can’t concentrate. I’m embarrassed and pissed at having to report to him, especially since he’s passed me over and got the promotion to manager.”
“Give him what he wants and let the cards fall where they will. You know you got it, babe.”
“I guess so.” She fumbled with her worksheets.
“How about I cheer you up with a special dinner tonight? Turkey lasagna with a nice bottle of chianti.”
Her rumbling stomach reminded her she needed to get something to eat. The people at Banter Androson & Co. made her so nervous she’d often work through lunch to catch up on her assignments. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to make a difference. No matter what did, she was just an average player.
“I suppose I can skip the diet tonight. I’ll be at the apartment by seven.”
“All right, see you then.”
Carmala’s apartment was, on a good day, a half-hour subway ride downtown from Banter’s midtown office. Guido had the key, but he didn’t live with her.
“Carmala, are the Ross spreadsheets done yet?” Steve Colby poked his head into her cubicle.
Carmala jumped. Did he hear her? She’d die
if he’d got wind of the conversation she just had with Guido.
“I’m almost ready, putting on the final touches.” She gave him her most confident smile.
“How much more time do you need?” He glanced at his watch.
“I’ll bring them to you in a half hour.”
Steve sighed, visibly disappointed, and leaned in farther. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I need to get everything to the managing partner by five.”
“You can get started on these.” Carmala handed the schedules to him, except for the last one. She was still working on that. “Wait. I have to copy a few things so I can work up the final schedule. I’ll run everything into you in five minutes.” She took back the schedules and rustled through them.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it.”
Of course, he’d do the rest of the schedules. Damn! Why didn’t she have them done when they should have been, first thing in the morning? If he did the summation, she knew he’d make sure to point out to the partner that he’d completed it, instead of her. With her recent lackluster reviews, she had cause for concern.
“Okay, Steve.” Carmala reorganized the material and handed it to him, careful not to show her slip in confidence. “Here’s everything, plus the supporting documentation you need. I’m sure you’ll find it satisfactory.”
“I’m sure I will.” He took the information and gave her a smug smile as he turned on his heel toward his office.
Yup, that was right. His office. Carmala stared at the fabric walls of her tiny cubicle. Correction. Borrowed cubicle. Banter allowed their traveling public accountants to wrap up or plan assignments in the home office. When she came in from the field, she had to grab whatever cubicle was available. The cubicles were barren, with gray fabric walls and fiberglass desks, sitting in grid-like fashion on the twenty-sixth floor. Under the harsh fluorescent light, without a window in sight, she imagined herself in a corporate prison. She had to walk across the entire floor to catch a glimpse of the outside world. She longed to have a picture of her boyfriend or her cats at her desk, but only staff with permanent offices, like Steve, had that privilege. Damn! Banter named the sterile environment the “home office,” but it had to be the farthest thing from home she could get.
Four years ago, she had left her close-knit family, who lived within a ten-block radius of each other in South Philadelphia. Everyone back home believed she’d achieved great success with her job in the Big Apple. If only they knew how inadequate she felt. Or that she’d been passed over for promotion and didn’t quite fit. So, no, she probably wasn’t much of a success.
****
After her yoga class, Carmala grabbed the first express subway train to her downtown apartment. The damned elevator in her apartment building was out again, so she had to trudge up six flights of stairs. So much for maintaining her relaxed state of mind.
“Babe, I’m so glad you’re home early,” Guido called out from the kitchen as she walked in her door. “How was yoga?”
“After another harrowing day at work, I needed it.” Breathless and hot from the climb, she unbuttoned her lightweight overcoat, pulled it off, and threw it and her briefcase on the couch. On her way to the kitchen she glanced at her surroundings with a touch of pride. Her cozy one-bedroom apartment filled with Mom’s and Grandma’s handed-down antiques crammed in every nook and shelf available welcomed her home. Mom’s handmade lace curtains adorned the windows of the living room. The apartment was small, but heck, she could make it into a two-bedroom by opening the pull-out couch. Not bad for living right in Manhattan.
“I made the lasagna with fat-free cheese.” Guido opened the oven door.
She peered over his shoulder and saw the dish bubbling with a nice crust. He removed the tray and set it on the counter to cool. A whiff of the tangy sauce hit her, and her mouth watered.
“It smells delicious. I’m glad you’re using fat-free cheese because, except for the six-flight jog up the stairwell, I didn’t do any cardio today.” She slipped out of her suit jacket and climbed onto a stool at the breakfast bar. Guido had set the table with her good china, cloth napkins, and long, red candles that cast an inviting glow on the tiny eating area.
Hmm. The setup was a bit elaborate. What was up?
When he produced a full glass of red, she took a generous sip, enjoying the sharp taste of her favorite wine. She refused to feel guilty for drinking tonight. Her five-day workout regimen was more than enough.
“We’ll get the cardio in tomorrow night, unless you plan to blow me off for a client.” He play-pouted his sensitive and irresistible full lips, melting her cares away. No matter what happened at the office, at least she had this gorgeous, caring man to come home to. And she needed to remember that when he annoyed her with his possessive behavior.
“It’s never a blow-off, Guid. You know that.” She got up, walked over to him, slid her hands around his waist, and kissed his neck, taking in his musky scent.
He turned to kiss her, and just the feel of his full lips against hers ignited her soul. He gently moved her aside and shifted to the counter to chop veggies for the salad.
“You do blow me off.” Guido produced a half-kidding look of warning.
“Only when I have to.” Carmala gazed at his back as he diced away. She could die for those incredibly wide lateral muscles.
Four years, and she still couldn’t take her eyes off him. Despite the drawbacks.
He turned and pinched her nose. “Anyway, the meal is going to be great. We haven’t had Italian in a while.” Guido poured himself a glass of wine and raised it to hers.
“I’m going to get more comfortable.” Carmala went into the bedroom to change into her pajama pants and T-shirt.
Guido’s jealous tantrums upset her. Even though he kidded her about it tonight, he still could be overbearing. Like when he disapproved of her after-work cocktail hours with the clients.
They’d fight over it—sometimes to an excruciating degree—but invariably, they’d both get over it, and she’d melt into his fathomless, seductive eyes and give in to the passion. What could she do? She had to socialize with her clients. It was part of her job. Really, he was overprotective. Maybe because he’d emigrated from Italy and had to take care of his mama in the absence of his father. Even though Carmala was one-hundred-percent-Italian descent—albeit third generation—this man took the proverbial cake with his accent and old-school ways.
After changing into her night clothes, she padded back to her barstool and swirled the remains of her wine. “Today, that dweeb Steve practically grabbed my almost-finished work out of my hands.” She sighed and drained the remainder of her wine.
Guido refilled her glass. “I could always come over there and rough him up a little.”
He was teasing, of course, but she wouldn’t put it past him.
“No, that’s quite all right. I can handle it myself.” She gave him a meaningful glance.
“I know you can.” He winked at her while tossing the salad.
“You’re in a good mood tonight.”
He placed the lasagna and the salad on the breakfast bar. “I got myself a little promotion. I’m lead electrician on the new hotel job. Ten-dollars-an-hour raise isn’t too bad, huh?”
“That’s wonderful, honey.”
He hadn’t been able to get the education she had, but he did well as a master electrician. And he worked hard. He couldn’t help being overly protective or jealous. It was just his nature, and she had tried hard to accept it.
“I’m so proud of you, Guid.” She skipped around the breakfast bar, put her arms around him, and squeezed tight. “I love the extra effort you took with dinner.”
“I thought we’d celebrate. But I feel bad you’re not too happy with your job. You should work with people who appreciate you. That’s why I’m still with Bob after all these years.” He served them each a generous portion of lasagna.
She returned to her seat. “I know. It’s not that easy for me to walk away. I w
ork for a good firm with some high-profile clients. The experience will help my resume.” She consumed a huge bite of lasagna. “Yummy.”
“Why can’t you get a job with one of your clients? You’re always talking about Synergy Plus. Why don’t you see if they have a position open?”
“Synergy Plus has been the silver lining in the corporate hell I’ve been battling. But, because I’m an independent auditor, I’m not supposed to seek employment with one of our clients. I heard through their staff grapevine that they were considering making me a job offer. But even though the audit is over, I haven’t heard from them. I’m due for a review by Banter on the audit this Friday.” She finished her chianti and poured herself another glass. Her third and, she promised herself, her last.
Guido stopped the forkful of food midway to his mouth. “Oh no, with the Dragon Lady?”
“Yep, the one and only Dragon Cathy. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to say, and none of it good. I can never please her.”
“Enough talking shop. Let’s finish eating and relax.”
They continued to eat in silence for a few minutes. “Your sauce has just the right amount of basil and spices. Delicious. I’m stuffed.” Carmala pushed her plate away.
He got up and cleared the bar. “You go and relax in the living room. Put on one of those Real Housewives shows you love. I’ll clean up.”
He certainly knew how to spoil her. Inside and outside the bedroom.
On nights like this, she was grateful to have him in her life. She smiled to herself. They’d had their share of heavy-duty fights. The relationship was fire and brimstone, but he was “Mr. Right Now.”
****
Carmala arrived at the office at a quarter to nine and went straight to Cathy’s corner office.
Cathy’s secretary, Mary, glanced up from her paperwork. “Hello, Carmala. You’re a little early. Good. I’ll let Cathy know you’re here.” She called Cathy on the intercom.
Cathy came out and invited Carmala into her office. “Please, have a seat.” She directed her to a chair opposite her desk and then sat down. “I’ve completed the review of your work on the Synergy Plus audit. Your performance on the audit and business improvement segments was quite satisfactory.” She pushed the written review form to Carmala’s side of the desk. “Here it is. Go ahead, take a look.”
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