Business and Pleasure (2 page)

“Okay, Nat. Tell Bob I will meet with him at
one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Natalie walks out the door, I cannot help
but wonder who would want to buy me out, but after several moments,
I realize my efforts are useless. The hopeful buyer could be any
one of dozens of medium or larger-sized publishing houses, both
abroad and in the States. Finally, I decide to set the entire issue
aside until later, and try to get some work done.

*****

Despite my best intentions, I spend the rest
of the morning wondering what on Earth Bob could be thinking,
keeping something so astronomically essential from me. Before I
know, the lunch hour has come and gone, and it’s time for our
scheduled meeting. I race to Bob’s office, my heart pounding, but
once I reach his door, I pause. Taking a moment to compose myself,
I smooth down my hair, run my palms down the front of my slacks,
and then straighten my jacket. Regardless of my irritation and
intense anxiety, I must present a professional persona at all
times.

Drawing a deep breath, I twist the knob and
open the office door.

“Elizabeth.” Seated at his desk, Bob looks
up as I step into the room. “Thank you for meeting with me. Have a
seat.”

I sit, but, instead of allowing him to think
he is in charge and has the upper hand here, I decide a direct,
ambush approach will work best. “Alright, Bob, out with it. Has
someone shown an interest in buying me out? And if so, why am I
apparently the last one to know?”

Bob’s expression morphs from pleasant and
easygoing to shocked discomfort before I even finish my
question.

“Seriously?” I ask him. “You had no idea the
whole office is talking about this?”

He lets out a small sigh.

“No, I had no idea… Unfortunately, yes;
there is a publishing house that has shown interest in our company.
They’re very impressed with how well we’ve been doing, and they are
extremely interested in buying us and acquiring our stable of
authors.”

My chest grows tight, trapping my breath in
my lungs. Despite my suspicions the rumor is true, I still cannot
believe someone actually wants to buy me out. Me! Sure, we might be
doing well, but we’re still just a tiny little publishing house.
Why would some big publishing company want our authors? Surely,
they—whoever they are—are successful in their own right. Why bother
with me and mine?

“Well, Bob, I have no idea why you hid this
from me, but whatever you were thinking, you were wrong. I’m not
interested. And if someone tries to force me out of the industry, I
will fight to the death to keep my company alive and profitable. I
built this business from the ground, up. I will be damned if I’ll
walk away, just to make a quick buck.”

“I understand how you feel, Elizabeth. I do.
But are you sure you’ve thought this through? This could be a good
thing. Maybe we could arrange to remain on-staff, become a part of
a bigger publishing house. We could reach more authors, negotiate
better deals, and provide insurance to our employees. Again, this
could
be a
good
thing.”

Was he really saying this to me? “I’m
telling you now; I will
not
sell this company. I will fight
anyone who tries to take it from me. They will have to pry it from
my cold, dead fingers. So forget it, Bob. It’s not happening.”

He holds up his hands in an obvious gesture
of self-defense. “Okay, okay. I understand. But…well, there is one
more thing. I set up a meeting; they are coming to see us tomorrow
at nine o’clock in the morning.”

“What!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be so
adamantly against the idea. Figured you’d at least want to discuss
your options. And as I said, they are very interested.”

Angry and frustrated, I stand up and get
ready to walk out of Bob’s office, but as I reach the door I pause
and turn. “Alright, we will see what these jerks have to say, and
then we’ll kick them to the curb. But I’m not selling. Not now. Not
ever. This company is mine.”

I walk out without waiting for his response.
With supreme effort, I manage to make it to my office without
breaking down, but once there, I shut the door behind me and let
loose. For the next twenty minutes or so, I bawl like a baby. Women
are not supposed to show weakness in the work place. Doing so makes
them look like a liability, so after my crying stint in the privacy
of my office, I dust myself off and continue on with my day.

I attempt to read one of our latest
manuscript submissions, but I have lost my focus. I’m just ready to
give it up and go home, when my phone starts going off, indicating
I have a new text.

Wanna meet me at
Le Caire
for
drinks?

Nicki’s text comes at exactly the right
moment. A drink and a little down time sound perfect. I send her a
quick text back, letting her know I’ll meet her there at six
o’clock, which gives me plenty of time to run home, change, touch
up my makeup, and make it to the lounge.

*****

Nicki meets me at
Le Caire
right at
six o’clock, punctual as always, a personality trait I truly
appreciate. I absolutely cannot stand when people are late. Nicki
and I walk inside and claim our normal table. I love
Le
Caire
—coming here is like stepping into another world. The
bar’s dimmed lighting, red draperies, understated décor, and
hookahs on every table makes you feel as if you are in the Middle
East, a million miles away from downtown New York. One can’t find a
more relaxing place to lounge.

Nicki and I decide to order two French
martinis and the strawberry hookah, intending to relax and let the
music take us wherever we want to go. I fill Nicki in on what’s
going on at work, and by the look on her face, I guess she’s just
as shocked as I am. The more I talk about the situation, the more
furious I become. I cannot wait until tomorrow, so I can meet the
ass who has disrupted my life and tell him where he can go.

“Damn, Lizzy. I can’t believe someone
actually wants to buy your business. I mean, you’ve only been in
operation for three years.”

“I know…right? Why me? What’s the big
attraction?” I let out a sigh, and then flag down the waitress so I
can order another martini. I’m still entirely too tense.

“Are you sure you want another one? This’ll
make five, and you need to be fresh for your meeting tomorrow
morning.”

Shit. She’s right, of course. Last thing I
need is to face my nameless adversary—why the hell hadn’t I thought
to ask the man’s name?—across the boardroom table with my head
pounding and my stomach rolling. “This will be my last one.”

Nicki gives me a soft smile as she sips her
martini. “Maybe you should think about relieving your stress the
way you usually do, if you catch my drift.”

She gives me a wink then goes back to her
martini. Yes, I know exactly what she’s talking about, and
actually, I’m already one step ahead of her. I laugh and say, “I
already texted Mark. He’s meeting me at my place at eleven.”

“Mark again, huh? Not Steve, or Phil, or
Ryan?” She adds her laughter to mine.

“Ha ha. Very funny. So…I have a lot of guy
friends. What’s your point?”

Nicki makes a noise, as if she’s choking on
her drink. “Friends? I think they’re a little more than just
friends
.”

“Friends with benefits? Isn’t that what they
call them?” I tease her. “Yeah. But so what? I like sex. I like sex
with different people. Sex helps relieve my tension. And it’s not
as if any of them think they are the only one. They all know I am
not looking for a relationship, so they’re all happy to…give me a
hand
, so to speak.”

Nicki downs the rest of her drink. “Yes, but
Mark again? It’s been Mark the last few times, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose so, but he’s the only one
who really knows what I like, and he is
very
generous. It’s
not about him when we are together. He’s the only one, who takes
care of me,
and
it’s not just about sex with him; he’s also
one of my best friends. He’s like you, but you won’t sleep with
me.”

We both let out a huge laugh at that
one.

“No, Lizzy. I love you, but not that much.
Come on; let’s get you home, so you and Mark can have some
fun.”

I call my driver, because it’s late, and I
don’t like walking home after dark—never have. Although, I probably
shouldn’t call Joseph my
driver
; he’s actually my head of
security, but he also prefers doing the driving. Within minutes, he
pulls up next to the curb, driving the solid-black CTS-V Sedan I
love so much. The tinted windows provide a sense of safety and
privacy, since no one can see inside. Let’s face it; money creates
a need for additional security. As we pull into the garage beneath
my building, I can’t stop thinking about the meeting tomorrow. And
the more I think, the angrier I become. The drinking did nothing to
calm my nerves, so I’m praying spending some time with Mark will
help me relax…at least to the point I can get some sleep.

Chapter Two

Tonight, I decide not to bother with
lingerie or make any fancy preparations. I throw on my t-shirt,
pour myself a glass of wine, and sit at my window overlooking
Manhattan while I wait on Mark. Thankfully, I didn’t have long to
wait. After roughly ten minutes, there’s a knock at the door. I
draw in a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and go to answer,
but the minute he sees my face, he obviously knows something is
wrong.

“What’s going on, Lizzy?”

He calls me by the nickname I reserve for
only a certain few special people. Only Nicki, Becca, and Mark are
allowed to refer to me as anything other than Elizabeth… A
professional woman must maintain a certain level of
decorum—especially in public—but those closest to me call me Lizzy,
reminding me I have a vulnerable, feminine side. One I’m feeling
all too much tonight.

I let out a sigh and fall into Mark’s
arms.

“Someone wants to take over my company.” I
manage to tell him through my sobs. “There is no way I will let
someone buy me out.”

Mark starts rubbing my back, and I sigh
again at his touch, having had no idea how much I needed the
comfort.

“Shh, Lizzy; it’ll be okay. No one can
outsmart you. You’ll show them whose boss and make sure they know
they can’t have your company. I can’t imagine someone going up
against you.”

He always knows just what to say. He pulls
back and looks me right in the eyes. “You are a professional,
hardheaded, stubborn woman. I would hate to be the guy that pisses
you off. No worries, Lizzy. Everything’s going to be fine.”

I stop sobbing as Mark leans forward and
kisses the tears from my cheeks. Yes, this is what I need. Someone
to take me, overwhelm me, and make me forget everything.

“Shall we go into the bedroom?” Mark asks,
but he knows the answer and has taken my hand to lead in toward my
room.

He knows his way around my house almost as
well as I do, considering he’s been here a hundred times, easy.
Being with him like this feels comfortable. In fact, he’s the only
one with whom I feel this at ease. Neither Steve, nor Phil, nor
Ryan can make me feel the way Mark does. Mark and I discussed the
possibility of dating—of forming an exclusive relationship—but we
decided against the idea. There are too many risks involved. If we
were to date and then something went wrong or it didn’t work out,
we’d both lose a best friend. I don’t think Mark could live with
that, and I
know
I couldn’t. So we have sex. Sex,
interesting and intelligent conversation, and we comfort one
another. It’s a perfect set-up. That is until he finds somebody,
and I find myself alone again. I don’t worry about finding someone
I love enough to walk away from what I have with Mark…I can’t
imagine caring about someone else that much. I’ve attempted
relationships before, but something always screwed things
up—whether it be my money, my job, their life…there’s always
something that gets in the way of my happiness. I am beginning to
lose faith in relationships.

As we make our way into my bedroom, Mark
releases my hand long enough to remove his black t-shirt. He then
takes my hand again as we walk closer to the bed. There, he lifts
my t-shirt over my arms and allows it to fall to the floor. He
tucks each index finger into the waistline of my thong and begins
inching it toward the floor to join the shirt. His hands travel
down my legs, brushing my sensitive flesh. I step from my
underwear, and Mark straightens. He looks me in the eyes and kisses
me, and his warm gaze holds the promise of future delights. I smile
when he pulls back and unbuttons his jeans. As usual, he wears
nothing underneath; why bother, he once told me. Might as well come
prepared. After we are completely nude, he lays me back on the
plush, white comforter, and then wastes no time climbing on top of
me. Looking into his crystal blue eyes, I’m lost, completely and
utterly lost. These are the only times I can let myself go, let my
guard down, and allow someone else to take the lead. I forget
everything that’s bothering me—hell, I forget my own
name
,
at times. He’s
that
good
…

Mark kisses me again, and the heat between
us grows to a scorching hot level. His lips are velvety soft
against mine, and before I know it, his tongue is invading my
mouth, joining mine. He breaks the kiss, trails feather-light
kisses down my throat, making me squirm. His hands find their way
to my breasts, and I moan as he teases each nipple, pulling at
them, until he finally slides one hand down between legs and dips
his fingers into my core.

“Oh, yes; you’re ready for me.” He slides
his fingertips up and down my sopping wet slit.