Erotic Invitation By Cheyenne McCray
Sheila Lane burns for Nick Tarantino, but circumstance has forced her to keep the flames locked deep in her heart--and other parts of her anatomy--for three years. Drop-dead gorgeous bosses only fall in love with their administrative assistants in the movies, right? Besides, she's full-figured and plain, nothing like the flawless, cultured females in his world. Still, no other man has existed for Sheila since she met Nick. All her erotic fantasies revolve around being at the mercy of this powerful man and his sexy, commanding voice.
When Nick sells Tarantino Investments, Shelia is heartbroken and sure her fantasies will never come true. But when she receives a mysterious invitation, her life changes...forever.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Erotic Invitation by Cheyenne McCray
"Girl, you've got to get over Tarantino." Andi tossed her shimmering black hair over her shoulder and braced one hand on the copy machine as she watched Sheila. "That or proposition him."
"Humph." Sheila turned her gaze to the copier and watched the incandescent light flash with every copy the machine made. Her eyes were glazed and her heart heavy. "Three years, Andi." Sheila fidgeted with the top button at the throat of her blouse. "And all I could say was 'I wish you well in your future endeavors.' How lame is that?"
Andi snorted. "Well, honey, it was better than throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to take you right on the Berber carpeting in his office." Sheila cast her friend a glance as Andi continued, "Although that certainly would have caught his attention."
Sheila rolled her eyes and Andi said, "I would've asked him out for a drink."
The copier stopped and Sheila snatched out the original and grabbed the copies. "You've got guts. I'm just a wimp, plain and simple."
Andi shook her head, her long black hair sliding over her shoulders like a silken black curtain. "You've got to stop playing it safe and take chances. Live, girlfriend."
"I'm not you." Sheila strode out of the copy room toward her desk. "Besides, it's too late. He already left."
"It's never too late," Andi shot back as she rounded her cubicle and vanished from sight just as Sheila almost smacked into Kate Baron, Vice President and resident Bitch From Hell.
Kate smirked and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Nick Tarantino wouldn't waste his time with you."
Sheila's cheeks burned as she moved behind her desk and eased into her chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do." Kate laughed, a fake cultured laugh that grated on Sheila's nerves. Kate propped a perfectly manicured hand on her perfectly slim hip. "After all this time I'd think you would have realized that the last person he would be interested in is you. All these years you've made it only too obvious that you want him. And it's only too obvious he wants nothing to do with you. Except maybe a fuck if you do throw yourself at him."
Sheila's face burned hotter as she realized Kate must have been listening outside the copy room. "Is there anything I can do for you, Ms. Baron?"
The woman brushed a piece of imaginary lint from the sleeve of her perfectly tailored black suit. "Don't waste his time any further by making a fool of yourself."
With that the Wicked Witch of West L.A. turned on her heel and strode down the hall, presumably toward her own elegant office.
Sheila slid into her seat and clenched the copies in her hand. Bitch, bitch, bitch!
She moved her gaze to Nick's empty office. Tomorrow the movers would bring Derrick's belongings into the luxurious office and she would officially be his assistant.
Kate's words burned in her ears and she longed for a Q-tip to clean them right out. Rather than discourage her from contacting Nick, Kate's digs only pissed Sheila off.
Andi was right. She should contact Nick. She had his cell number and his home number. It wouldn't hurt a damn bit to ask him out for a drink. They'd been co-workers and friends long enough that she could simply say she'd like to get together for a farewell drink. If it led to more...
She stuffed the copies into a file folder and grabbed the cordless phone receiver before her nerves and self-doubt got the better of her. With shaking fingers she dialed Nick's cell number, a number she'd memorized long ago. Just as the phone started to ring, she spotted something propped up against a picture of her family.
It was an envelope with Sheila embossed in gold across the creamy white surface.
She dropped the receiver back onto its cradle and picked up the envelope. It was thick and heavy, obviously expensive stationery. Curiosity filled her as she turned it over. Gold wax sealed the envelope with a crest she didn't recognize. She broke the seal, slowly opened the envelope, and pulled out a single sheet of paper in the same heavy stationery. The paper was folded in half and when she opened it, her heart began to pound.
Across the white surface a single word was embossed in gold: