Coming soon!

Unedited and Unproofed Excerpt.
Copyright Karen Monroe 2005. All rights reserved.

Chapter 1

"You're late … again."

Flavia Rodriguez cocked her head to the side, frowning at her good friend, Jane Smart.

"I'm only telling you because ol' Battle-Ax was looking for you. She wants to see you in her office, ASAP."

"It's eight-oh-five, no one has even started working yet," her arms swung in a wide arc around the multitude of two person stables, also know as work space cubicles, "they're all getting coffee."

"I told you, the woman has out for you. Stop giving her ammunition and be here on time," Jane admonished.

"I have never been more than five friggin' minutes late! Why does she keep messing with me?"

"Because she doesn't like you, Flavia, and to be honest, I might not like someone who told me that I might want to consider shopping at a big and tall store."

"I didn't do anything except try and give her some fashion advice. The Battle-Ax could be pretty if she tried."

"Face it, the woman hates you," Jane returned.

"Yeah, well I hate that bony bit-" Eyes wide, Flavia froze in her swivel seat, her jaw dropping as she stared into the bespectacled beady gaze of Carol Reynolds, her supervisor. "M-ms. Reynolds," she stammered, "I was just on my way to see you."

Beside her Jane started coughing furiously, holding her giggles back by pretending to choke to death.

"Well, you've finally decided to join us, Ms. Rodriguez. I'm glad you could make it to work today." Suddenly, the same narrowed beady gaze focused in on Jane. "And you Ms. Smart, that cough sounds really bad. I hope you won't have to take any time off of work because you aren't taking proper care of yourself."

"I-I have some medicine," her friend stuttered, regaining her composure even though her eyes glistened with mirth.

"Good. I'd like to think of everyone in this office as a team player dedicated to doing there job, and though some people" her eyes pointedly swung back toward Flavia, "may need a bit more reinforcement. I refuse to believe anyone is lost cause. Now Ms. Rodriguez, I need to see you in my office."

A few moments later, Flavia again settled into her chair.

"What did she say?" Jane asked, turning away from her computer monitor, her straight cut shoulder length hair swinging in a wide arc.

Sighing, Flavia wished she could loosen the tight bun at the back of her head. After the fifteen-minute lecture she'd just received, all she wanted to do was go home and relax. Undoubtedly though, releasing the thick, unruly black swath would give the long locks the order to get totally out of control, and surely Battle-Ax Reynolds would have a lot to say about that!

"She said I needed to take my job more seriously, and by consistently being late I was setting a bad example for the junior personnel."

Jane snorted. "What junior personnel? You and I are at the bottom of the totem pole."

"I think she meant the parking attendants."

"Wow, that woman has really got it out for you."

"You're telling me," Flavia said, rolling her eyes.

"It was the big and tall suggestion-"

"I only said it to help the woman! Seriously, she's a six feet tall Amazon who dresses in plaid. There are other fashion choices available! That's the only reason I said it."

Jane laughed. "And see what your advice got you. It would have been better to keep your mouth closed."

"So, I shouldn't have tried to help her, even though she desperately needs it," Flavia defended.

"Obviously, Battle-Ax likes who she is, and I don't think she's planning on changing anytime soon."

"Yeah well, that still doesn't give her the right to dress like a buffoon."

Slashing a hand in the air, Jane rolled her chair closer, dropping her head like she was imparting some great secret. "So, you never told me why you were late. Was it a man? Did he keep you up all night?"

"No, it wasn't a man," Flavia replied, laughing.

"Where you at your other job?"

Jane Smart was the only person at Bouche LLP who knew about the double life she led, and she'd sworn her friend to secrecy on a stack of bibles and pain of having her hair died purple for the rest of her natural life. "No, actually I was up all night thinking of designs for a commission."

"Another?"

"Yes."

"Wow," Jane excitedly said. "That's the second one you've had this month."

And each day Flavia was counting her blessing too. A mucha hambre, no hay pan duro, her mother would always say, and since she'd been virtually begging for commissions she definitely wouldn't be choosy. Having two friends about to wed billionaires had definitely been a coup for her bank account. Ameril Haverton and Alex Houston each wanted elaborately designed wedding rings for their intended fiancés, and price was certainly no object.

"Just think, if you get a few more accounts you won't have to deal with ol' Battle-Ax anymore," Jane said.

Madre de Dios … though that was a wonderful thought, it wasn't realistic because what Jane didn't know was she was literally in debt up to her eyeballs. She had maxed out all but one of her credit cards to buy the expensive equipment and material needed to build up her fledging business. And although she did make a lot of money from her second job, nearly all of those funds went to pay the monthly fees and exorbitant interest rates, along of course with her rent, food, car note, utilities… Her paycheck from Bouche LLP was what kept Flavor designs afloat at the moment, and though she loathed the job she couldn't afford to give it up.

"I have to take a few more classes. Right now, I'm farming out business because I don't know how to solder or inlay precious stones," she mumbled, not wanting to go into exact detail about her precarious financial situation.

"Yeah, but now you'll have enough to take the classes, right?"

"Maybe. They're pretty expensive classes." At least the good ones were. "As much as I'd like to let ol' Battle Ax have it, I'll have to let her be for the time being."

"Well, when I can afford enough for one of your pieces I'll be your third big commission. Then you'll be eternally grateful to me for releasing you from the drudgery."

Flavia laughed, she really liked Jane. She had a weird sense of humor, and though her friend continually described herself as a nondescript brunette with browny-green eyes, Flavia considered her to be one of the most beautiful people she had ever met. The inside radiance of Jane's effervescent, ebullient persona shined forth at all times.

They had both been working for Bouche LLP in the secretarial department for a few months before being moved to the same cubicle. At first Flavia had kept her distance, but one day when her computer had frozen, before she could save the file she'd been working on all morning, she'd turned around and tapped the quiet brown head on the shoulder. Hoping her seemingly computer literate co-worker could help, she'd been grateful when Jane got the stupid machine to obey with a few clicks and ticks of the keyboard. After that, they'd formed a friendship, and Jane was probably one of the few people Flavia trusted with her secrets dreams-and double life.

"Oh look," Jane whispered, her voice filled with awe. "It's one of the big chiefs."

Swiveling in her seat, Flavia rolled her chair passed the thinly made, four foot felt barriers separating the masses of accounting secretaries, so her head peaked just pass the edge. Peering at the tall, lanky man walking between the pathways of oddly shaped rectangles, she wondered why he looked so familiar. Then it hit her, they had ridden in the elevator once. She'd been working late … well … actually she'd been printing up some new designs from the high tech color printer in the office. Kinkos had wanted an arm and leg to rent their photocopier for the hundred or so pages she needed, and since she was already giving one pair to the credit card companies and the other to her fledging business, Flavor Design. Flavia decided Bouche LLP could help since they would probably, at least, need her sane to work for them. Besides, they shredded and wasted so much; she'd figured her hundred pages didn't really count in the scheme of things.

Flavia could her mother's voice in her head. Cada uno habla de la feria segun le va en ella. Conceding she probably was looking at things in her own point of view, she assessed that sometimes a point of view was all that stood between a person and the poor house, and if she explained the circumstance to Claudia Rodriguez, her mother would surely understand.

"I've seen him before," she murmured, shaking her head. "We rode in the elevator together, and you know, I think he's wearing a carbon copy of the suit he was wearing then."

"I wonder what he's doing down here?"

"I don't know, but he looks really serious."

Jane widened her eyes. "Quick. Look busy, he's coming this way."

Flavia swiveled toward her monitor, knowing she couldn't look too busy with a blank screen; she bent to the left to the turn the CPU on. Yet, the soft fall of footsteps made her look up, and she turned her head to stare at the man in the dark gray suit, curiosity beckoning.

He was just as she remembered from the stolen glances she'd spied when they had stood less than two feet apart in the elevator-light, wavy brown hair, a distinguished forehead, dark eyes and dark brows. Where some women might consider him meek, or even nerdy because he didn't have the classical features associated with male beauty, like curling lips, a deep cleft chin or a barrage of muscles. For Flavia his sleek lines and rounded face with the strong jaw, made her think of understated handsomeness, more so than glamour type allure. Plus, his intent gaze was distracting. When they were in the elevator together, alone, he had stared at the silver doors like he was silently commanding the lift to move faster. And now, he was staring at nothing in particular, but he looked so concentrated, his focus was like a laser beam.

When he finally moved passed them, Flavia took full advantage to ogle his backside, rolling her chair so she could get a full glance. Though the ends of his jacket fell to the middle of his buttocks, there was enough flesh filling the rear of his pants to be noticeable. Smiling, she thought he probably looked quite nice with out the drab suit he was wearing, or his underwear for that matter.

Boxers or briefs?

"You got that look in your eyes," Jane said, interrupting her pleasant thoughts.

Startled, Flavia rolled back into their cubicle. "What?"

"Don't act like you didn't hear me. You were looking at him like sliced bread."

Offended, not because Jane had pointed it out, but because it was so obviously noticeable, she denied the accusation on principal. "No, I wasn't."

"Yeah, sure. That's why you were looking a-at his-his … booty."

Laughing out loud for a full four seconds, Flavia covered her mouth to smother her giggles. In the year she had known Jane, she'd never heard her curse. Even when her computer acted up, the harshest word Jane Smart had ever uttered was probably closer to 'shoot' than 'shit'. Just hearing the proper young lady say the word booty, with the inflection on the 'ty' rather then the 'boo', made Flavia want to fall out of her seat.

"His boo-TY was really nice," she mumbled, stressing the last syllable as Jane had.

"I'll take your word for it. Though, what's he doing now?"

Flavia again moved to get a better look. "He just went into the Battle-Ax's office. Maybe he's about to fire her," she mused.

"I doubt it. They look like they'd be buddy-buddy after working hours."

Frowning, she shifted her head to look at Jane. "Why would you say that?"

Jane shrugged. "Because he's … I don't know … staid."

Staid. Flavia didn't think so, intensely serious maybe, but definitely not staid. "Why do you say that?"

"He's an accountant, Flav. They're bread to be boring, non-adventurous and reserved."

"And this from the woman who is destined to be an accountant one day," she retorted.

"It takes one to know one," Jane replied with her usual quick wit. "People don't trust someone who looks flashy and unreliable. Being an accountant is like being a really reserved banker. "

I guess.

Flavia sighed, peering one last time through the windows guarding the Battle Ax's private sanctum. The two-staid-accountants were involved in a deep conversation, and she figured it probably revolved around the latest tax scheme. No doubt, he definitely wasn't receiving the dressing down she had when she'd been in that office earlier. Smiling, it occurred to her that he was sitting in the same chair she had, and her butt wriggled on her seat at the thought of their two rear ends sharing some kind cosmic connection.

Turning back toward her computer, which was now booted and ready to go, she typed in her company username and logged into the system, her thoughts still twisted on apparitional buttocks contact.

"What's his name?" Flavia wondered aloud.

"Huh?"

"The big chief? What's his name?"

A musing note of bewildered humming filled the small confines of the space they shared as Jane typed something quickly on her keyboard. "There," her friend said, after a moment had passed. "His name's Phillip Ward, and I can't believe I didn't recognize him right away. I read an article about him last week. Remember when I mentioned the company had sent one the big wigs to investigate that fiscal crisis in Michigan. He was the one. Apparently, he's a specialist in … corporate and governmental finances," Jane said, sounding impressed. "I'll send you the link."

Opening her email program, Flavia clicked the highlighted URL in Jane's message, quickly reading through the news report.

Dry beyond the barren landscapes of the Sahara, the only good thing about the piece was the grainy picture of a group of clustered businessmen, one who she recognized as her ass man.

Frowning over her shoulder, she squinted her eyes. "Please tell me you read this during working hours?"

"No, I read it while I was at home."

"Jane," Flavia sighed in exasperation. "We have got to get you out the house more often."

"You're a fine one to talk. I'm not the one who was looking at his butt," Jane muttered.

She had a point, Flavia thought. Laughing, she turned back toward her computer and opened the MS Excel document saved to her desktop. She had to have the report finished before lunch or ol' Battle-Ax would be all over her butt, and she really couldn't afford to stay late tonight. It was Friday and she had to be at her other job later in the evening.

Her brows raised in a nonchalant lift before she dismissed all thoughts of the staid accountant, Phillip Ward, from her mind. She didn't have any business thinking about him anyway. She barely had time for sex these days, and her usual type of man was the fun loving, easy-to-kick-the fuck-out-of-bed type. Besides, as Jane had mentioned, she didn't have anything in common with him. A Pagan loving, unconventional, jewelry making, stripper by night and secretary by day would never have anything in common with boring, non-adventurous, reserved accountant.

Nice ass or not!