Corporate Seduction

  Indigo Love Stories

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright© 2006 by A.C. Arthur

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-542-8

  ISBN-10: 1-58571-542-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

  Dedication

  To all the co-workers (attorneys and staff) in the firms where I previously worked.

  Thanks for the inspiration

  Acknowledgments

  I am so glad to have completed this book. I was a little nervous about a sequel but it was fun re-visiting these characters and the law office of Page and Associates.

  Thanks always to Damon who, I think, enjoyed this story more than I did.

  Thanks to my brother Darren, who answered my computer questions.

  And last, but certainly not least, thanks to my Lord and Savior for the gift, the patience, and the strength to endure.

  Prologue

  It was Thursday morning, and Reka couldn’t wait for the weekend. Even though her weekends were now spent quite differently than in her past, she still looked forward to her personal time. Opening her Inbox, she scrolled down through her new messages and sighed as she glimpsed an all too familiar sender.

  To: mail@passoclaw.com

  From: Jack

  Subject: The Naughty and Nice Collection

  She’s still not giving in. What should I do? I thought of buying her something. Maybe something from the Tantalizing Thongs Collection would give her a clue and help speed things up? What do you think?

  Jack

  “After all these months you still haven’t slept with Jill?” Reka rolled her eyes, right clicked and deleted the message. “You ask too many questions, that’s your problem, Jack, ole boy.”

  She had to smile to herself at the latest of the sexual emails the office had been inundated with. It had started about three months ago and, at first, Cienna and Tacoma, the new office manager, had just assumed they were a joke. But then the sexually charged messages had begun appearing with more frequency and much more urgency from their originator, Jack.

  Now the entire office seemed focused on these messages. Most of them wondered who they were from, speculating about the staff, as well as the attorneys, especially since love connections were known to happen in this office. Some of the more simpleminded employees, though, took the messages all too literally. On any given day talk in the lunchroom was of the steamy messages and the thoughts they provoked. Tacoma had had more than a few reports of quickies in the storage room and had even caught Nigel, from the mailroom, and Kelly, from accounting, hugged up in the stairway acting out a previous email, one entitled Exciting Edibles.

  Tacoma was hyperventilating by the time Reka had made it to his office after his urgent page for her. The male/female connection was not his cup of tea, which was clearly understandable since he was now engaged to his longtime boyfriend, Terry.

  Reka, however, didn’t take the unsolicited emails quite so literally, but had to admit that lately they seemed to exacerbate her own situation—no boyfriend, no prospects and no inclination to find either.

  * * *

  Cienna Turner-Page clicked the icon that would load Microsoft Outlook onto her computer. She flipped through the day’s schedule while listening to the computer go through the motions. When her screen blinked with the familiar background, she clicked into the Inbox and began a cursory glance at the subject line of this morning’s messages. ‘The Naughty and Nice Collection’ caught her eye and she instantly positioned the mouse to open that particular message.

  Cienna read the words and stifled a scream. Jack was beginning to piss her off. She had a lunch meeting with her longtime client, Johnathan Peterson, the CEO of Sensuality, Inc., a lucrative lingerie company, and planned on discussing this situation again for the billionth time in the last three months. She had no idea how the emails that had first appeared throughout his growing company had found their way to her law firm as well. But she was damn sure going to find out.

  Picking up her telephone, she dialed a familiar number.

  “Judge Page’s chambers,” Gayle, the receptionist, answered in a cheery voice.

  “Good morning, Gayle. Is the judge on the bench yet this morning?”

  Gayle smiled at the friendly, familiar voice on the other end. “Oh, hello, Cienna. No, he’s having his usual cup of caffeine right now.”

  Cienna chuckled. Keith said he needed all the caffeine he could get before dealing with the lunatics that came through his family division courtroom. “In that case, I can interrupt him.”

  “You sure can. I’ll put you right through.”

  “Thanks, Gayle.”

  “No problem,” the woman said happily before ringing Keith’s office to announce that his wife was on the line.

  “Mornin’, beautiful. You miss me already?” Keith Page looked at his watch, noting that he’d left his Greenwich Village house only about an hour ago after his lovely wife had given him a very satisfying send-off. If she didn’t miss him already, he damn sure missed her.

  “I miss you every minute we’re apart,” Cienna sighed, still helplessly in love with her husband after three years of marriage. “But that’s not why I’m calling,” she added quickly. Behind closed office doors, she and Keith had shared some pretty steamy telephone conversations, and this had the potential to go there, unless she cut it off quickly. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “A problem?” Keith sat up in his chair. “What’s up?”

  “I got another message this morning. From Jack.”

  Keith knew very well who Jack was, and how the pervert was wreaking havoc on the firm he partnered with his wife. “Forward it to me now.”

  Cienna did as he asked and waited while he read it.

  Initially, Keith chuckled. “I’ve seen the Tantalizing Thongs. That just might work, Jack.”

  “Keith!” Cienna was not feeling his humor.

  “Just kidding, sweetie. This is serious, I know. It’s been three months now, and this guy hasn’t let up.”

  “What are we going to do? Everybody’s walking around here like they’re in heat or as if they’re amateur detectives trying to figure out who in the firm could be sending them. Attendance is down, morale is shot to hell since nobody can keep their mind on the business of law. I’m sick to death of the jokes and banter going around on a daily basis and, to top it off, Johnathan plans to release the new collection in four weeks. Just imagine how this thing is going to explode once the public gets wind of the collection and the sex-orientated emails.”

  “Calm down, baby. I’ll take care of it,” Keith assured her.

  “How?”

  “I’ve been talking to this computer guy I know. I offered him a job a few years ago but he turned me down. I’ll just give him a call and tell him that I really ne
ed him this time.”

  “You think he’ll be able to find out who’s sending these messages so we can prosecute for harassment?” Cienna wasn’t very optimistic, but realized this might possibly be their only hope.

  “He’s the best.”

  “Okay, when can I meet him?” she asked.

  “I’ll invite him over for dinner tonight. Print out all the messages and bring them home, I’m sure he’ll want to see them.”

  “You’re inviting him to our home? You know him that well?” She was a little shocked. She knew all of Keith’s friends and wasn’t sure she’d ever met a computer guy before.

  “It’s Khalil. You know, we play ball on Saturdays. I’ve told you about him, haven’t I?” Keith asked the question although he already knew the answer. He hadn’t told his wife about Khalil, mostly because a reason had never come up, but partly because of the business Khalil was in.

  “I don’t think so. But I vaguely remember him from the cookout last summer.” She was getting a blurry picture of the friend Keith was referring to.

  “Well, you’ll meet him tonight, and we’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry.”

  Cienna read over the message again and sighed. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not going to be hearing ‘The Thong Song’ all day.”

  * * *

  Seated in his high-backed soft leather chair, Khalil desperately tried to dismiss the conversation he’d just had with his mother. It was just too damned early in the morning for that type of drama. Besides, he’d made his mind up and this time, Cornelia Hughes Franklin was going to have to accept it.

  He was about to go over the report a new employee had left on his desk last night when Carol, his assistant, buzzed through the speaker phone.

  “Judge Page on line one,” she stated in a professional voice.

  Khalil grinned. He’d put a hurtin’ on Keith in Saturday’s game. If he knew his friend, Keith was already calling to talk trash about this weekend’s rematch. “You feelin’ better, old man?” he asked when he lifted the receiver to his ear.

  “Feelin’ better?” Keith queried.

  Khalil couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, after that butt whuppin’ I served you a few days ago.”

  “Ah, man, please. You just got lucky, that’s all. It’s about time you started playin’ like you had some skills. Those Ivy League schools made you soft.” Keith laughed. “But that’s not what I’m calling about.”

  “Really? What else can I do for you?”

  “Remember those email problems I told you we were having at the firm?”

  Khalil sat back in his chair, abandoning the reports. He remembered the problem, and didn’t want to miss anything. The erotic emails his friend had mentioned a few weeks ago had sparked his interest. “Yeah. Is the firm still getting them?”

  “Mmmhmm. Cienna forwarded me another one this morning. She’s really upset, says everybody’s more focused on who’s sending the messages and why than on work now.”

  Khalil thought of his own non-existent sex life. “There are worse things then sex that they could be thinking about.”

  “I agree, but not at work. I want you to come take a look, see if you can find out who’s sending them so we can prosecute.”

  Franklin Investigations had just opened its second office in Connecticut, so Khalil didn’t need another client. It was purely personal intrigue that had him consenting to help Keith. “Sure. When can I gain access to the computer system at the firm?”

  “As soon as I convince Cienna to hire you as the firm’s new IT tech. I don’t want her to know you’re an investigator. She might get nervous.”

  “But I thought she wanted to prosecute?”

  “She does, but ever since all that stuff went down a few years ago, the police and investigations make her a little jumpy. That’s why she stopped handling complex litigation cases. I just told her that you’re a computer geek and that you could probably find our culprit.”

  “A computer geek, huh?” Khalil shook his head at the familiar jab. Most of his friends had dubbed him that long ago. His family was very proud of his computer skills, but wished he’d use them at the family’s investment company instead of his investigation firm. Sonya, however, hadn’t really cared what his interests were, as long as the bank account kept growing.

  Keith grinned. He knew the nickname would needle Khalil, and he so loved to keep his buddy going. “Yeah, that means you know your stuff.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Khalil chuckled. “But I’ll go along with your plan anyway. When do I start my new position?”

  Keith rubbed his hands together, confident that Khalil would get to the bottom of this, and quickly. “Come by for dinner tonight and we’ll talk over the logistics with Cienna.”

  “Now you know I don’t pass up a free meal. I’ll be there.”

  The men finished the conversation with more basketball banter before hanging up. Sexy emails being sent to an office full of lawyers. Khalil couldn’t figure out the connection, but was sure there had to be one. He picked up his phone and gave Carol a list of cases to distribute among the other investigators. He needed a break from the office anyway. He’d been working really hard and, now that he had a competent staff, he could finally take some time for other things.

  A simple computer case like this would take his mind off Sonya and the disaster their breakup had been, and it would probably add some spice to his otherwise boring life. Erotic emails definitely sounded like a lot of that.

  1

  “I know you’re not wearing a dress.” Reka dropped her pen and was now staring pointedly at Tacoma, who had invaded her office about ten minutes ago to discuss his impending wedding.

  Tacoma rolled his contact-gray eyes. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Oh, okay, just so we’re clear about that.” Reka straightened in her chair and gave Tacoma her full attention. “Proceed.” She hadn’t really been listening to him when he first came in because she had been organizing a file for Cienna, and generally Tacoma just wanted to vent. Replies usually weren’t necessary. But from the looks of him, she needed to throw some serious concentration his way. Her friend was definitely a little on the edgy side this Friday morning.

  “I’m not sure what I’m wearing. It’s a choice between this dynamite cream-colored Versace I saw in a magazine and this off-the-rack white contraption that Terry likes. I swear, he’s monitoring my spending for this wedding like we’re one cracker shy of starving.” Nervously, Tacoma crossed his right leg over his left and rolled the end of his coral silk tie around his finger. Over Reka’s shoulder he could see it was a sunny New York day outside. And to top that off, it was Friday. Still, his mood was sour and his loving fiancé was the reason why. “Nice weddings cost money, and I want mine to be fabulous! I don’t know why he doesn’t understand that.”

  “There’s a difference between fabulous and extravagant, Tacoma. Terry wants to take you on a nice honeymoon, but if you spend all the money on the wedding itself, you’ll be staring out the window of your apartment instead of lying on some tropical beach.”

  Tacoma unraveled his tie, smoothed it down and gave himself another nod of approval for putting together the ivory linen pants, melon-colored silk shirt and tie that was just a shade lighter. His Kenneth Cole butter-toned tie ups and soft beige dress socks topped it off. Since his promotion to office manager and the big fat raise that came along with it, he’d been dressing his hundred and nineteen pound butt off.

  “We’ve been to Cancun and Jamaica and the Bahamas. I’m about beached out. I suggested Paris.”

  Reka watched Tacoma checking himself out and smiled to herself. No matter what was going on, Tacoma’s first concern was always his looks. He primped more than she did when they went out. Though they did most of their shopping together, she’d had nothing to do with today’s citrus look. “Paris isn’t cheap. Why don’t you cut the guest list? That’ll save some money on the food.”

  Tacoma
made a sound that was dangerously close to a screech, and Reka frowned. “I can’t cut my guest list. All those people just have to come. This is my big day,” he whined.

  Reka pursed her lips and leaned her elbows on her desk. “Why don’t you fall in the floor and start rolling around? That’s all you need to top off this juvenile tantrum you’re throwing.”

  Tacoma gasped.

  Reka waved a hand in dismissal. “Save it for somebody who doesn’t know you like I do. You don’t even remember half those people you have on that list, you just want to show off. Cut the list to one hundred and fifty guests and tomorrow we’ll go and find you and Terry nice Versace-looking suits. But not white. That virginal thing is so played out.”

  Tacoma straightened in the chair, his palms on his knees, and cracked a smile at her. That’s why he so adored Reka; she knew just how to make him feel better. “Okay, shopping and lunch tomorrow. That’s wonderful. Now I have to get back to work.”

  He stood and Reka chuckled. “You remember how to do that?”

  Tacoma was about to spray her with a smart reply when her speaker phone buzzed and Cienna’s voice filled the tiny office.

  “Reka, I need to see you in my office, please.”

  Reka pressed the red button on her phone and answered, “I’ll be right there.”

  She stood, smoothed down her own purple knee-length skirt, and walked around her desk.

  Tacoma opened the door, looking back at her for a second. “Girl, those pumps are killer , but you should have worn the blazer with that outfit instead of the scarf.”

  “Keep walking, I’ve got this covered,” she said as she re-tied and fluffed her lavender and violet scarf so that it hung alluringly over her shoulder. Her sheer lavender blouse was plain and buttoned almost to her neck. The scarf awakened the otherwise drab material and tied the entire outfit together. She’d received two compliments while on the subway this morning, so she knew she had it going on.

  Not that she would waste her time on the two tired, jobless men that had complimented her. Those days were over. Drama-filled relationships, heated breakups and senseless sex were a part of her past. Since receiving her degree from Queensborough Community College Reka had re-arranged her priorities, putting herself first, before any man.