Authors: Jamie Salisbury
Southern Heat 1
Secret Cravings Publishing
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Copyright © 2014
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-277-4
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Secret Cravings Publishing
My "muse" for
Choice, Mackenzie Kennedy, who left us far too soon.
There are many people I should thank...Liam,
C-boy, DC...the list goes on and on. You know who you are, my faithful warriors
who beta read and make suggestions, or in some cases rip it apart. Without all
of you and your feedback, none of this would be possible. Thank you.
And a huge Thank You to my readers!
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instead of meeting him, she accidentally crosses paths with her rock star
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Nightwalkers and the man she based the hero in the series upon. She would do
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Southern Heat series 1
Copyright © 2014
It was bizarre to say the least, how random the interviews were.
No one knew who would be next, and everyone was fair game. I’d heard plenty
Choice in the four
years since I’d come to work at Choice Enterprises. Rumors, innuendos…I was
never sure where the stories left off and the real man began. Oh sure, he sat
in on many a merger and acquisitions meeting.
Our interaction though has been merely professional. A
handshake, perhaps some words of praise. As far as the man himself? That’s as
close as I’ve ever gotten.
Choice owns half of the city
of Atlanta, if not more. Or at least that’s how the story goes. His reach
spreads far into the surrounding cities and counties that make up the rest of
Still, I’d never met him on a personal level. Oh I’d seen
photos, plenty of them. He was a regular in the tabloids as well as the Atlanta
Choice was, after all, one of
most eligible bachelors in the world. He was, as they say, a hot commodity. All
the women wanted him, but none had him. Mr. Choice, it seemed, kept his private
life deep undercover, dark and mysterious.
The interviews were rumored to be for that of his right hand
man or woman, as he had promoted Nick Jacobs to run the London branch. As soon
as Nick was out the door, the search began. It was said that
Choice knew talent mere seconds after speaking with a
person. He was aware he had an entire building full of it, and this was where
he would go first. All outsiders’ sparkling resumes were tossed aside into a
file. Just in case.
Now, here I was, seated in his outer office, waiting to be
summoned by one of the world’s premier business moguls. I smiled nervously over
at Renee, his assistant of more years than I had been at Choice Enterprises.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something, Caitlyn? A bottle
of water or a Coke? Coffee, perhaps?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” I glanced up at her. She was
older, in her early forties. Her hair was thick, highlighted blonde, and hung
at her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes accented her face. It would be hard to
guess she wasn’t a natural blonde in one fashion or another. The navy suit she
wore probably cost half what I made in a week.
Meanwhile, I was decked out in my black pencil skirt and
white blouse with matching black pumps. I was quite sure they had come from
stores Renee hadn’t stepped into in years.
A moment later, one of the lights on her phone lit up.
Taking the handset in her elegantly manicured hand, the woman spoke softly. In
the next instant, she returned the receiver to its place and stood. “If you’ll
follow me, Mr. Choice will see you now.”
I followed her to a closed door that appeared to be at the
start of a long hallway. She knocked lightly before opening it, standing
against the dark mahogany as she gestured to the two seats situated in front of
a large chrome and glass desk. The occupant,
Choice, had his back to us, his attention focused on whoever he was speaking
with on the phone.
The door shut behind us, and I stared out at the downtown
view of Atlanta skyscrapers through the windows.
“Good afternoon, Ms. White.” The chair swung around, and
before me was the most perfect looking man God has ever made.
Choice did indeed live up to his name. Dark,
dangerous, and handsome, if those qualities are possible all in one. Piercing,
graphite colored eyes jumped out at me. His mink brown hair lay perfectly on
the collar of his crisp, white shirt.
He stood, unfolding his lean, muscular frame from his seat.
It was obvious the man worked out and enjoyed the outdoors. He had a perfect
tan. Everything about him seemed to be perfect.
I stood, making sure my pencil skirt was as straight and
professional looking as possible. I extended my hand in his direction. “Good
afternoon, Mr. Choice.” I stumbled over my words a little, trying not to make
an idiot out of myself.