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He could be charming and command respect one minute and icy cold the next. He was one person you just didn’t want to tick off in the office. No one was stupid enough to cross his path after that. Word got out that the employee in question who admitted that she faked the whole scenario got blacklisted everywhere. Jess was a well-connected man who didn’t take too kindly to his name being dragged through the mud by an opportunist.
Tomorrow morning before her employee evaluation with Jess, Lee, and Chase, his laid-back cousin who was also part owner of the firm—he was going to read that e-mail.
Alexa told Macy what just transpired.
“What? You did what?” Macy’s voice rose. Then she laughed hysterically.
“Girl, you’ve got to make sure he doesn’t see that e-mail. Unless you want to have something going on with him.” Macy tried to make light of the situation so that Alexa wouldn’t slip into a depressive state of mind and think she was a total screw-up with everything in her life.
“Come on, Macy. You know what happened at the firm with that woman and the lawsuit.” Alexa ran her fingers nervously through her hair as she paced back and forth around her bed. She peeked over and saw Mittens, her sweet little three-year old ginger shorthair cat, was fast asleep on the bed. Alexa wished she were a four-legged feline with no cares in the world. No access to the internet. Damn! Why couldn’t a person retract an e-mail that was sent in error? One would think with all the technology they figured out how to reach back into cyberspace and delete what was not meant to be sent. If it were up to her, they’d be a pop-up box that read “Are you sure you want to send this email to xyz?”
“Oh.” Macy’s voice sounded dry and low. “Listen, you’ll be fine. Just don’t go running for office or become a celebrity sportsperson and it won’t come back to bite you in the butt. Then again, you might be able to get a reality show out of the scandal.”
“Macy, this is no joke!”
Macy sighed. “Sorry. I’m just trying to make you see it’s not the end of the world. Worrying about stuff doesn’t make it go away—it just gives you added heartburn. If you can’t do anything about something, forget it. Don’t let it ride you up.”
“But, Macy, you have no idea what I’m up against. How am I going to get any sleep now? I’m going to look like crap in the morning with bags under my eyes and Jess and the entire team will get that e-mail. This was supposed to be my appraisal, my employee evaluation for my conduct over the year. My potential raise.”
“Oh, no, girl! I see what you mean.”
“Let’s face it, Macy. I’m so screwed.”
CHAPTER 2
Jess Tandon reached over to the night table from his bed, eyes still closed, to stop his BlackBerry from buzzing.
It was another incoming e-mail. He could tell by the way the phone vibrated twice.
He had a bad habit of keeping his cell phone on as it still charged overnight. He was trying to get into the environmentally friendly energy-saving thing. Not just because of one of his clients at the agency, but it was the right thing to do. He always said if he ever lived long enough to settle down and have kids, he sure wouldn’t mind a planet that was still in decent shape for them to inhabit.
It was dark in his bedroom; he lay naked under the blue satin sheet on his king-sized four-poster bed. Oddly, he always felt comfortable with no clothes on. While at home, of course. The room felt slightly cool tonight with the window cracked open slightly to allow some breeze to seep through. It had been an unusually humid day in the month of May for Mercy Springs, Texas—but thank God, the night was cooling down.
He pressed the button to power off his cell phone.
“Who the hell could be sending an e-mail at this hour?”
He peered at the alarm clock with squinted eyes. It read: 12:03 a.m.
“Great!”
He’d been up since the crack of dawn and was sleep deprived the entire weekend as he planned for the work week ahead. Busting his butt, meeting client demands. Setting up new strategies on his computer with files he brought home from the office. All this from one of his clients. And that was because a new major launch was about to spring. Otherwise he would be on a less-stress-diet plan. He was on a new path now.
Though at twenty-nine he was part owner and CEO of TLC Advertising Agency, he sure didn’t want the heartache and ulcer that often paired up with top-dog positions. He had to learn to play it cool now. He’d known too many of his buddies in the industry, the corporate world, some not too much older than himself, with that old familiar zigzag surgery mark on the center of their chest. Triple Bypass surgery.
