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CHAPTER FIVE
ZACH HADN’T INTENDEDto start his conversation with Emma by offering to spank her. The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. The moment had taken him by surprise, and he’d instantly wished he could suck them back in. But once the ball began to roll he’d decided to see where it would lead. He never expected Emma’s explosive reaction, and driving back to his office it lingered in the forefront of his mind.
Either she’d been thrilled and panicked, or totally disgusted. He decided it was the former, and not just because of her flushed face. Her righteous indignation had been an example of,methinks thou dost protest too much.
Driving into the underground parking lot, he rolled into his assigned parking space, turned off the car and let out a breath. It had been quite a morning. Gathering his thoughts and focusing his attention to his work, he climbed out and moved to the elevators.
Continental Pictures was housed in a sleek, two-story, architectural wonder on Abbot Kinney Drive in Venice. It had originally been housed at a major studio, but Jerry Goldman had built the contemporary masterpiece and moved.
There were no windows facing the road, but once inside, an abundance of light filled an open courtyard boasting tropical plants and palm trees. Zach’s office was on the second floor, home to the company’s executive staff. Prepared to be met with an endless list of messages, he exited the elevator and followed the wide, thickly carpeted hall to his office.
“Hey, Martha,” he said with a smile, stopping at his secretary’s desk. “Anything exciting to report?”
“Everyone in the world has been after you,” she said brusquely, “and here they all are.”
She was holding a stack of pink message slips in her hand.
“I take it you haven’t had lunch yet.”
“I’m going now,” she replied, rising to her feet and picking up her purse.
“Martha, I’ve told you a thousand times you don’t have to wait for me.”
“And I’ve told you I don’t feel right leaving if you’re not here, and because you kept me waiting I’m taking an extra fifteen minutes.”
“Okay! I guess I’ll just tackle all these by myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she retorted, walking past him and heading off down the hall.
Grinning, he moved into his office and closed the door. Martha had been with him for almost a decade. She was in her fifties, a tough New Yorker, and as honest and loyal as any woman could be. She didn’t take nonsense from anyone, and her heart was as big as the Grand Canyon. In a town where sincerity and authenticity was rare, he treasured her.
Spreading the message slips across his desk, he placed them in order of priority. The name at the top of the list was Anna Lee Pickford. He knew exactly what she wanted, and after his run-in with Emma Hartman he was more than happy to oblige.
Picking up his office phone, he punched in her number.
She answered on the first ring.
Not a surprise.
