The Sandstone Affair (An Erotic Romance Novel) (3 page)

The phone rings.
“Julia Sharp,” I answer with my usual business
voice. Just because I’m unemployed doesn’t mean I have to sound like a pauper,
particularly to the scheduler from the Sunrise Yoga.
“Julia, it’s Janice. I’m at the yoga place.”
“I can’t come to yoga right now, Janice. I’ve
got things on my mind, if you haven’t noticed.” My tone with her is crisp and
snide. I guess I can’t blame her for continuing to work at Lynx, but it would
have been a comforting gesture if my good friend would’ve stood up for me and
left.
“I don’t care about yoga. It’s the only safe
place to call you from.”
“What?”
“Kenneth All-Slime and Blake the Snake are in
the office all the time. I can’t call you from there, and I’m kind of afraid to
use my cell. Everyone is really tense.”
“Well, that’s what you get when you decide to
stay in the gutter with the rats,” I say without compassion. Does she really
think I should feel sorry for her? It’s my life that’s a mess.
Janice gives me an annoyed sigh. “I just
wanted to let you know I got it out of the office before they found it. When
you’re ready for it, it’s secure.”
“You’ve got what?”
“The story, of course. That’s what all this is
about isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what it’s about, to tell you the
truth. But keep the story safe. And, thanks Janice.”
A hot bath, a glass of Merlot, and some nice
music is the best medicine I can afford right now. While some folks use those
things to relax, I’m using them just to keep myself going. I’ve got to find a
way to get my head around what’s happening. I admit I’ve had my eye on Mark
Stone for some time, imagining what a joint venture with him would be like in
the boardroom and in the bedroom. But right now I’m as far from the boardroom
as I could possibly get, and while I’ve certainly been on the receiving end of
his attention, it’s not like he’s inviting me to the bedroom.
The wine takes the edge off, and I realize
he’s right. I am afraid to ask for help, and I don’t like giving in. I do put
on an act and try to bully people into my way. It’s the only way I know to get
ahead in the publishing game. There’s no room for the weak. Valerie James is
just as ruthless and cutthroat as I am. She just does it with a smile. Somehow
that’s worse.
Finally relaxed, I mull my options. I’ve got a
lawyer looking for a loophole in the original Sandstone Ventures contract, but
he’s already said it looks airtight. I do get a chance to file a rejoinder, but
I don’t even know what grounds I could file under. I have Mark’s mysterious plan,
which I can’t even fathom–let alone count on. Finally, I have the Wall Street
article Janice managed to save from Blake. I don’t know what to do with any of
these but there has to be a way. The phone jars me out of my focused state.
“Julia Sharp,” I say, hoping it’s not Janice
again calling me from the laundromat or Burger King.
“It’s Mark,” he says with that deep beautiful
voice. I can see him in my mind’s eye and my body begins tingling in response
to the very sound of him.
“What do you want?” I say far too rudely for
my own good.
“Meet me at the fourth level of the parking
deck at Monroe and Seventh Street around nine o’clock tonight. Come alone.”
“Do you want me to wear a cloak and carry a
dagger?” I respond sarcastically. Mark just hangs up the phone leaving my
attempt at humor hanging in the air like a bitter pill. Part of me thinks I
should nip this in the bud right now and stand him up. That will back him off.
Yet another part of me that resides noticeably lower in my body, wants to meet
him and see what he can do.
I arrive about ten minutes to nine, and I’m
the only car parked on this level. Mark pulls up in an Escalade at nine on the
dot. He’s such a careful and exacting man. He gets out of the driver’s seat,
opens the passenger side back door, and walks around to the driver’s side,
getting in the back. I look around, and climb in the back.
“Close the door, genius,” Mark says with a
smile. “You’re not very good at this sneaky stuff.”
“Before Sandstone Ventures came along, I
didn’t have to be,” I retort as I pull the door closed. What is it about him
that makes me want to rebel and obey all at the same time?
“Where’s Jose?” I ask. I had never seen Mark
driving himself before.
“At this point, it’s better if no one knows
that we’re meeting.”
“Even Jose? I thought you trusted him.” The
older man always had a smile and a joke for me whenever he drove us to visit
Glenvale.
Mark’s silent look is answer enough to that
question.
Mark turns on the map light in the back. It’s
a surprisingly roomy vehicle for a single man to drive around in. Maybe it’s
his mobile office. He reaches into the door side pocket and pulls out a folder
with copies of the same documents Kenneth Allen gave me.
“Have you read these?”
“Yes,” I reply, unwilling to admit I can’t
make heads or tails out of most of them.
“Then you know what the problem is, right?”
Mark speaks in a clearly controlled focused manner. It’s hard to sound
professional in the back seat of an SUV in an empty parking garage, but he
pulls it off nicely.
“I know I lost my company, and it’s a
problem,” I respond petulantly, and then remember he doesn’t have to help me at
all. “Honestly, I really don’t know much about what they say. It’s all legalese
to me.”
“They say you have thirty more days, four
weeks, to save your company.”
“Thirty days?”

“That’s how long you have to file a
rejoinder. About four weeks. If you don’t find a reason to file, or don’t file
on time, Lynx Magazine’s assets, talent, stories and resources all become the
property of Ladies World.”
“What do I need to file?”
“You need evidence that you were wrongfully
put out of the company because of corruption, personal gain, or by an
inappropriate system, and you want the matter legally reviewed. If you have
evidence, a judge can stop the merger to Ladies World. But you need real proof,
not just theories and venom.”
“I don’t have it. Do you?”
“No, but I have a plan. It’s going to take
almost all thirty days, and it’s risky for me, but I think I might be able to
find something you can use to file. However, I’m going to need your help and
I’m going to need you to trust me.”
“I must trust you, I’m here aren’t I?”
“I mean you need to trust me with more than a
passing glance. You need to trust me body and soul, to give your whole self to
me and rely on me to do what’s right.”
“Here we go again with a lecture on what I
need. Can you please stop being my life coach and just help me save my job?” I’m
shocked by this turn of events, and this talk about my body makes me edgy and
wet all at the same time.
“I have a proposal for you. Are you ready to
listen with an open mind, or should I wait a few more days while the clock
ticks down on Lynx?”
His face is passive, calm, waiting. I consider
throwing another casual snide comment at him, to drive a barb into him, to spur
him to drop his cool exterior just for a second. I want to see the real Mark
again, the human one, the one that can feel pain. The Mark that had been in the
office. The caged animal just underneath the surface that had grabbed my hips,
bent me over and used me like an object. That Mark had been frightening, but
even more terrifying is how much I want to see that part of him again.
Stop it. This isn’t just about me, or my
company. Dad is counting on me. So is Janice. And the rest of my employees.
Time is not on my side and tossing cruelty at Mark won’t bring me any closer to
getting Lynx back.
“I’m ready,” I say with my head down like a
school child in the principal’s office. How does he keep doing that to me?
“Here’s my proposal. I think I have a way to
get you the proof you need to file a rejoinder. I can’t tell you what it is, or
how I’m going to get it. But I’ll need your trust, your cooperation, and a
source inside the magazine you can go to who won’t reveal you. You need to be
very close to your former employees. I will give you my expertise, time,
investment, and strategy to make this plan work. In short, I will give you your
job back and the humility necessary to run it.”
“And what do you expect in return?”
“You will give me your body, your will, your
trust and your obedience for the next thirty days. You will do what I say
without question, and you will submit to my instructions, my desires and my
discipline.”
I freeze for a second, trying to process what
he said. My body?
“Are you serious?” I ask him. “Is this
something you and Blake designed together? He fucks me over and then you get to
fuck me?”
Mark continues speaking in that clear
controlled way as if my accusation just bounced off the ceiling into oblivion.
“You will submit every part of your body, your
mind and your soul to my will. While we are working on getting your company
back, you will also be learning the basic things you need to know in order to
keep it. Remember that if you had heeded my advice, you would never have gotten
yourself into this position in the first place. If the reed will not bend, it
must break. But I promise you this: on the day I hand you the keys to your
office and your sexual freedom you will be thankful you said, ‘Yes’ no matter
how challenging the next thirty days may be.”
“You think that just because of what happened
in the office, you can blackmail me like this?” I ball my fists.
“Not at all. I want to be very clear, Julia.
If you accept this proposal, we will go forward in what will be an interesting
and risky adventure. If at any time you wish to stop this agreement—whether
it’s getting your evidence or the sexual submission, all you have to do is say,
‘I don’t want this anymore’ and I will stop. I’m not here to force you. I’m
here to offer you a chance.”
“I trusted you, Mark.” I turn away from him.
“And I trusted you. I trusted your judgment to
make the right decisions for Lynx. I never forced you to make any decision you
didn’t want to make, but you never trusted me enough to take my advice.”
My hand reaches for the door handle. I’m
trembling slightly, but I don’t open the door. I don’t run. I don’t leave.
“Julia, by helping you, I am putting
everything on the line. I am going against a decision that my own company has
made. If I do this, I may be planting the seed to destroy everything that my
father has built. Why should I risk it to return Lynx to your hands if you’re
only going to dig yourself into a deeper hole later on?”
My mind fills with images of women sprawled
lewdly on satin sheets, blindfolded and handcuffed. Images of collars, whips
and, paddles crowd out any ability to think rationally. Then out of the haze
one image crystallizes in my mind. I am kneeling on the ground, my arms are
tied behind me with thick coarse rope, my pencil skirt is hiked up to my waist,
my bare bottom exposed as Mark presses his rigid manhood against my heated
lips, stretching me open.
I can’t do this. Something inside me wants
this too much, and it scares me.
He rests a warm hand on my shoulder, “There is
more than one way to be strong, Julia. You know one of them, I can teach you
the other.”
The silence stretches. The door handle is
slippery and cool from my sweat, but I can’t let go. It’s my only root in
reality right now.
“Can you really do it? Can you get Lynx back?”
I ask quietly.
“I think that I can. But I need your help. I
won’t be able to tell you everything, and you must accept that. I will ask and
teach you to do things you never imagined doing, and you must accept that too.”
Mark opens his door and puts a long leg out
onto the pavement, “I will give you some time to think about it. But I need
your answer tonight.”
He walks around the perimeter of the parking
garage with his hands in his pockets staring out at the starry sky.
I could keep pressuring my lawyer. I could try
to get this ‘evidence’ on my own. I could sell the Wall Street story to another
magazine to scoop Ladies World. That would surely bring me a lawsuit, but at
least I’d get the last laugh. Or, as my slit begins to moisten, I can take
Mark’s offer.
Sexual submission? Total trust? Even if I
could get my body to cooperate, how would my mind ever fall into line? And what
did he mean by teaching me another way to be strong? Yet, everything he has
told me has been true. Every place he touches on me catches afire and ignites a
craving within me that only he can satisfy. He was right about Lynx. He was
right about me. If I had just listened to him and not gotten involved in a
street fight with Ladies World, things might be different now. What more do I
have to lose at this point? I have the power to stop it. He has the power to
make it work.
I unlock the door and push it open, finally
loosening my grip and wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt before walking over to
him.
“Well?” he asks with a slight smile.
I swallow hard and speak as if I’m before a
board of directors.
“I accept your proposal.”

In elementary school, I had a ponytail that
reached halfway down my back. My mother would comb my hair every morning and
braid it carefully, fixing it with a purple elastic band. It had to be purple
because it was my favorite color, and the only color I was willing to have in
my hair. I don’t know who started it, but there was one year when all the boys
thought it would be funny to yank on the girls’ hair during class. First it was
Maria. She went home crying. The teacher gave all the boys in the class a stern
talk, but that didn’t stop them. Next was Carolyn. Her mother had to come pick
her up. When Brian Carter yanked on my ponytail, he ended up bawling on the
floor with a bloody nose. We both went home that day, but none of the girls in
the class ever had their hair pulled again.