A Workplace Affair (Atlanta Affair) Read online

  A Workplace Affair

  A novel by Isabella Rae

  A Workplace Affair

  Copyright 2013 by Isabella Rae

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher.

  The book is a work of fiction. A resemblance to any person, living or dead, events and/or location is purely coincidental. All events, the characters and storylines have been created by the author’s imagination and have been used fictitiously.

  Cover design/art Melissa Gill at MG Cover Designs

  Published by Isabella Rae, Peachtree, GA

  This book is intended for mature readers 18 and over.

  Acknowledgements

  I want to give a special thanks to James Mason, Megan Martin, Crystal Booth, and all my co-workers at my day job for letting me talk endlessly about this book, and for not duct taping my mouth shut. I also want to thank My House Restaurant and Bar for allowing me to find my culinary inspiration while at work.

  A huge thank you to my editor and beta readers, Brenda Wright, Crystal Booth, Angela Druck, Marivett Villafane, and Erin Croft, you ladies are amazing, and to my fellow author Harper Sloan for being inspiration and mentor through this entire process, I would not be here without you!

  Another huge thank you to my parents for all of their support throughout my entire life, no matter how good or bad things are, you are always there for me.

  I also want to thank the indie author community; so far all I have found with you all is support and as an indie author that is so very important. I look forward to returning the kindness you all have shown me.

  A Workplace Affair

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Recipe for Apple Spice Cupcakes with Salted Caramel Buttercream

  How to contact Isabella Rae

  Prologue

  Prologue

  Sixth grade is pointless. Fifth grade was necessary, after all they teach you all the basics in fifth grade, but as far as I can tell sixth grade is pointless. My name is Victoria Bryant and today is my first day of sixth grade, and I am terrified. Last year was great, I had a lot of friends, and everyone pretty much seemed to get along. Then school let out for summer and I noticed things started to change. The friends I had known since first grade were all of a sudden too cool for me, and when they were not acting like I didn’t exist, they were making fun of me. I don’t understand how someone you have been friends with for years can be cruel enough to call you fat and ugly. So now standing in my bedroom, inspecting my best Clueless inspired outfit, I am trying to think of any excuse not to go to school.

  “You’ll be fine.” My mom is always overly optimistic.

  “But what if no one likes me? What if no one wants to sit beside me and I get laughed at.”

  “I’m sure that won’t happen, and when you get home from school today I want to hear all about it.”

  “Fine,” clearly I’m not getting out of this. Resigned, I grab my backpack and run to catch the bus.

  At school everyone is excited, talking about their summers and gushing over The Backstreet Boys. I’m still feeling nervous, but I do my best to put that aside as I close my locker and head to my first class. The girls who used to be my friends point and laugh at some private joke as I walk by. Finally I make it to the safety of the classroom. Math is my first class, and Mrs. Robins is written largely on the board when I enter. So far most of the seats are empty, so I pick one in the middle of the room and sit down. As other students start entering the room, my nerves return when no one seems to want to sit next to me, and only gets worse when my ex-best friend walks through the door. Then I see a pretty redhead come in the door. I’ve never seen her before, which isn’t unusual since we all came from different elementary schools, but she looks right at me. She looks to be about as shy as me, so when she comes over and sits next to me I’m not sure if I should say anything.

  “Hi, I’m Sage McCarthy.” She speaks first, flashing me a perfect smile.

  “I’m Victoria.”

  “Have you seen the new No Doubt video?” I love No Doubt, and have spent endless hours in my room singing “Don’t Speak” into my hairbrush.

  “Oh my god, I love it! I’d give anything to be a singer.” We spend the rest of the time before the bell talking about music and getting to know each other. I was so scared that no one would like me, and I just found a new best friend. Sage and I manage to stay at each other’s houses nearly every weekend, up until the last day of school when Sage and her family moved to South Carolina. The day Sage left was the hardest day of my adolescent life, but we promised to stay in touch. We managed pretty well for a while, I even went and visited her that summer, but then school started and we both made new friends. Once that happened, we just slowly lost touch until we only spoke once a year.

  Fifteen years later Sage showed up at my door with a suitcase.

  “Sage, what are you doing here?”

  “I need a place to stay for a little bit, and you’re the only person I know here.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I got married. We’ve been married six months and three days ago I caught him cheating on me.” Tears start to run down her cheeks. “I woke up this morning, ready to leave and he’s gone, he left and took all of my money.”

  “Shit, Sage. I’m sorry. Of course you can stay with me.”

  “I just don’t know what to do. We moved back to Atlanta two months ago. I was just about to open my business, and now it’s all gone. Ten years of savings, gone.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but the first thing you need to do is file for divorce, then we’ll figure out about the business. I have some money saved up, I don’t know if it will be enough, but you can have it.” Just like that we are together again, and this time, nothing is going to keep us apart.

  Chapter 1

  I can feel the warmth of the sun across my face as my mind registers the music coming from my phone. Silently I wish I could hit the snooze and roll back over into the heady sweetness of my dreams, but I am nothing if not responsible. Reaching over, I switch off the alarm and pull back the covers. Sitting up, I sit there for a moment stretching and enjoying the view from my bedroom window. For the last year and a half, that view has kept me going. The fog on the pond silently moves as if trying to escape the r
ising sun. The light coming through the trees gives it a kind of halo, making it appear as though it is magical.

  Making my way to the shower I note the time, 7:08, my only thought is to hurry. At exactly 7:18, I’m drying off and rushing to my closet. Running my eyes over the items that are haphazardly hanging there, I decide that casual Friday deserves a cute dress. I am meeting friends directly after work for a lot of drinks and a little karaoke. Slipping into a loose fitting bright yellow sundress, I make my way back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. I only have about 10 minutes to get out the door. I stand there a moment and appreciate what I see, after a year of working out and watching what I eat, I can finally look in the mirror without criticizing myself. I know that I’m cutting it close but I take the extra few minutes to curl my hair. Giving myself a mental high five, and praying one of the other secretaries brought donuts to work, I back out of my driveway with 2 minutes to spare.

  I’ve only been working for United Real Estate Investments for five months. In my time there, I have proven to be a valuable member of the staff. I started at the front desk, answering phones, and signing in visitors, but after one of the executive’s personal secretaries quit without notice, Harold Sneck asked me to fill in. Harold is the head of human resources in the Atlanta branch, and had been too busy that day to look any further than the front door. I had been sure that after a week or so they would find someone to fill the position and I would be moved back to the front desk. After all, I lacked the experience necessary to be hired for the job, but after a month as Robert Marks’ secretary, he offered to make my position permanent. Now, after four months of officially working for him, I know I made the right choice. Mr. Marks is a hard man, but he is very fair, and pays what is deserved.

  Settling in at my desk, I review e-mails and send the necessary replies. A contract that needs to be signed is coming through on the fax and I take the opportunity to seek out the donuts in the break room. The break room was small but three other secretaries stood around talking and enjoying the fresh Krispy Kreme donuts from the box on the counter.

  “So did you hear, Victoria?” Mary from accounting asks as she fills her coffee cup.

  “Hear what?” Surely I can sit through boring gossip long enough to enjoy my first donut.

  “The owner is coming in on Monday, some big deal coming up that he wants to personally oversee.” Mary’s eyes sparkle a little as she shares the information. Almost all of the women at United, both married and not, have crushes on the owner. His name is Leland Ambrose, and from all accounts he is gorgeous and rich, and anything beyond that doesn’t seem to matter to them.

  “Oh yeah, of course. Mr. Marks has me arranging his accommodations while he’s in town.” All three women look at me as if I’ve just been crowned prom queen. Backing away from the tension in the room, I grab a cup of coffee and walk quickly back to my desk. It’s now eight o’clock and Mr. Marks should be getting off the elevator any second. I place the coffee on his desk and turn on his computer before taking my seat at my desk. Precisely ten seconds after I sit down, Mr. Marks comes around the corner and greets me with a smile. Mr. Marks is very punctual. I wait ten minutes and then re-enter his office for our daily meeting.

  “Good morning, Mr. Marks” He glances away from his computer screen and nods his head.

  “I trust that all the arrangements have been made for Mr. Ambrose’s visit.” It’s a statement, not a question, but I answer anyway.

  “Yes sir, he is due in at seven tonight, and the hotel is preparing his suite.”

  “Good,” he has gone back to reading his e-mails, “I want you to go over personally and make sure the room is up to standard. Take the Spivey documents over and leave them for him to look over, and buy a bottle Jack Daniels for his room.”

  “Yes sir.” We talk a little longer about his schedule and he reminds me to be at work early on Monday. I get back to my desk and get to work. Being Friday, I don’t have much to do, so around 4 o’clock, I head over to Prestige Atlanta, the newest hotel investment in United Real Estate Investments’ portfolio. Everyone here is dressed in black and white, the lobby floors gleam in all their polished marble glory, and the soft gold walls and luxurious silk upholstered sofas make you never want to leave. I approach the young man at the front desk and his warm smile stands out among the bored looking workers around him.

  “I’m checking in for Leland Ambrose.” I place the company credit card on the counter along with my license. Carter, according to his name tag, picks them up and his smile grows.

  “Honey, you have got to be the most beautiful woman to grace my counter!” He’s examining my license photo and has his left hand over his chest, “If I liked women baby, I’d be all over you, instead I’ll just admire from afar.” This is said with a wink as he begins quickly punching the keys on his computer. “Here you go boo, suite 1200” he says sliding the electronic key card over along with my cards. Still slightly amused by his obvious flamboyance, I wink back and thank him before heading to the bank of elevators to my right. The inside of the elevator is glass and it begins its ascent to the twelfth floor. I am treated to a beautiful view of the Atlanta skyline. Traffic is just beginning. On my left, I can see the gold top of the capital building. To my right off in the distance, I can see Turner Stadium. The Braves obviously play tonight, because the parking lot is slowly filling with tailgaters.

  The elevator stops, halting my time alone with the view, I’m confused for a second, the doors are staying tightly shut. Just as panic begins to set in, I notice a slot below the buttons for the floors with a picture of the electronic room key. I slide the key into the slot and breathe a sigh of relief as the doors easily slide open. The presidential suite, which occupies the entire top two floors of the hotel, is decorated in the same gold tones used in the lobby, but with beautiful accents of turquoise splashed around. The elevator opens up to the living room, which is furnished with plush gold sofas accented by turquoise pillows. A beautiful mahogany bar sits off to the left with turquoise and gold tumblers on top, and a black piano occupies the space to the right. Beyond the bar there is a wall of large windows, a panel behind the bar slides open the barely noticeable glass doors leading onto the balcony and the infinity edge hot tub and lap pool. To the right of the doors stands a spiral staircase leading to the bedroom of the suite.

  I cross to the bar and place the Jack Daniels there along with the files for his review. I make the climb to the second floor and cross the plush white carpet to the closet. Mr. Ambrose’s clothes have been sent ahead and are hanging there. I take a moment to appreciate the fine quality of his Italian suits and the rich fabrics of his shirts. In the center of the large closet, and by large I mean the size of my living room, there is a round silk covered bench along with a cabinet that comes about chest high to my five feet nine inches. Hung inside one side of the cabinet are some of the most beautiful ties I’ve ever seen. The small drawer at the top of the same side is filled with watches, rings, and various styles of cufflinks. The opposite side of the cabinet is empty, seemingly waiting for a woman’s belongings. I love my life, but part of me imagines what it would be like to travel and stay in rooms like this one. I break the daydream and finish my walk through of the suite. Taking a moment in the bathroom I note that my hair has misbehaved as usual, the curls have fallen and my hair is straight as an arrow once again. I head back down to the lobby and leave the key for Mr. Ambrose before heading into the heart of Atlanta to meet my friends.

  Chapter 2

  Horse of a Different Color is a little dive bar located at the back of Underground Atlanta. The lighting sucks, the drinks are cheap, and the entertainment is free. Every Friday night, they have karaoke and once a month I meet my two best friends there for some good drinks and bad singing. Walking into the bar I scan the room. Finally, I spot Sage and make my way through the growing crowd to the table she’s chosen. As always, Sage looks amazing in a curve hugging black dress and red heels. At five foot three, the four inch
heels still don’t make her as tall as me, but at least I don’t feel quite so tall around her tonight. I’ve always been a little jealous of her catlike green eyes and fiery red curls. Sage was born in Ireland and is a stark contrast to my olive complexion, dark hair, and hazel eyes. For the last three years Sage has worked hard to rebuild her life, and I’ve been there every step of the way. We balance each other out, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  “Hey, sexy lady!” I have to raise my voice a little so she can hear me.

  “I was wondering when you were going to get here!” Leaning in she grabs me in a hug, “Nick is running a little late.” We both laugh at the shared joke. Nick is Nick McCoy. We met through an online dating site, and after three dates we decided we were better as friends. Now, three years later, we share everything; he helps me with guy problems and vice versa. Nick is never on time to anything. If we want him there at six, we tell him to meet us at four. That way, he stands a decent chance of being on time. As I take my seat, a waiter comes and takes my order. Five minutes later my pitcher of beer arrives along with the burger I had ordered. I skipped lunch so I figure I’m allowed to eat greasy bacon cheesy goodness.

  “Don’t judge me!” I say with a grin as Sage eyes me and burger with jealousy in her eyes. With a shrug she reaches over and snags a fry. About that time Nick walks in, grabs the karaoke song book and heads over to the table.

  “So, I was thinking that tonight we could sing “Forget You” only I’m going to sing it the right way!” As Nick flips through the binder to get the song information, Sage and I share an eye roll. That song choice could only mean one thing; Nick and his latest girlfriend have broken up. I signal to our waiter to bring a round of red snappers to the table. The song binder keeps him distracted long enough for the shots to arrive, before I can pass one to him he picks up two of them takes them back to back.