Page 1 of Steel

CHAPTER 1

Violet

“What do you think?” Brenda asked as she crowded my space at the window, her face pressed on the glass window overlooking Eric’s office. “Should we both start looking for another job?”

Maybe, but I wasn’t ready to concede just yet.

“Well, since he still has his blinds open, he’s not considering terminating the entire team.” While the statement was casual, devoid of emotion, if anyone were to peel away the layers of clothing, they’d notice my stomach was eager and willing to jump out of my skin. Forget a single knot. I had dozens.

Eric Dannon was a tough-as-nails boss, the kind you didn’t want to cross, but often had wishful thoughts of finding him in a dark alley while wearing a mask and carrying a spiked bat. He was also brilliant in the world of marketing, singlehandedly transforming Brightworks Enterprises into an international contender.

Not without making us crazy in the process.

Our claim to fame? Specialized calendars in several sexy genres. They were still all the rage, although the competition was tight, soon to be suffocating. The men and women of the creative team I led were all brilliant, creative, and a little bit wild. Thankfully, their inventive imaginations had provided the heavy spark needed over the last four years so that sales had been decent.

At least good enough to keep our jobs. But the heavy competition had taken a toll on everyone’s electric verve. In other words, this year, the three weeks of long, brutal hours spent locked together in our ‘fantasy room’ had churned out lackluster ideas.

Plus, Eric and the other investors had spent a small fortune purchasing the company and were looking for more than just a decent return.

We’d taken the best of our ideas and put together a campaign, complete with a mockup using our best models. However, the theme of sizzling mechanics just didn’t leave me with a deep core throbbing in my pussy. That alone was my indication when a campaign had hit on all pistons.

No pun intended.

I’d been creative director, model wrangler, pastry baker, and overall mother hen to a bunch of men who could barely wipe their ass. At this point I was fed up with men in general. That wouldn’t bode well for whatever critique Eric had for us.

Maybe we were all burned out, in need of a long vacation with a bottomless frosty beverage and a waitstaff eager to fulfill all our raunchiest desires. I know I was. That wasn’t going to happen, not this century anyway.

“I think he looks bored,” I finally answered, which was the truth. Since the day Eric had introduced himself in his ten-thousand-dollar suit and fifty-thousand-dollar watch, he’d demanded perfection.

Brenda sagged. She was my rock, the woman who kept me fueled with mainlined chocolate raspberry coffee, handling my emotional breakdowns and keeping me on track so I wouldn’t forget important appointments. In my eyes, she was the most important member of the team.

Whom I suddenly felt most if not all crowding around me like sharks after fresh bait was dropped into the ocean. While Eric’s office was across the room, every one of us had the eyes of a hawk. Maybe because the man could make our lives miserable.

“Not just bored,” Greg said with a heavy sigh. “As if he’s ready to find his next victim.”

“You mean his next blood infusion,” Debbie added, her rabid growl as terrifying as Eric’s mood swings.

The standing joke was that Eric was a vampire, eager to drain our blood one at a time.

A crunching sound drew my attention. Mark was standing inches away chomping loudly on a bright red apple and all I could think about wasSnow White.

“Okay, that’s enough. We still have work to do.” The calendar in question wasn’t the only one we’d been tasked to create. It was simply the true moneymaker.

The collective groan brought me a smile as they dispersed.

But it was short lived when Eric tossed the file I’d placed in his hand personally onto his desk followed by leaning over the same artistic mahogany piece he’d purchased in Italy.

“Uh-oh,” Brenda whispered. “Would you like a little Irish cream added to your next cup of coffee?”

“If only I could.” Everyone knew his behavioral tics so well that when I turned away from the window, every creative member on the team had scrambled to hide.

Brenda giggled before walking away. As team leader, I was required to take the brunt of his angry pontifications. If only I had the nerve and the means of quitting. All I’d really ever wanted to do was write books. I even had four of five halfway completed. But when you had bills to pay, a deadbeat ex with a God complex, and a darling product of a tainted love affair to feed, that didn’t leave room for living in la-la-land. At least not for very long.

Eric finally stormed from his office. He could be considered a good-looking older man were it not for his permanent scowl. I could swear the man hated everyone on Earth, not just within the company.

He was several feet away when he noticed me. “Ms. Livingston. I’d like to see you in my office. Now.” He was a man of few words and a devoted lover of public acts of humiliation.

As soon as he used his long, muscular legs to take him into his office, the entire administrative team forced to witness his curt behavior outwardly cringed. Their wide eyes peered at me as someone would when witnessing an innocent woman facing the gallows.