Thanks to Sandra Bunino for starting a new weekly meme. All of the participants are sharing teasers from our latest works.
My snippet is from my in process WIP, Miss Wolfe and The Three Corporate Pigs (working title), a naughty fairy tale retold. I don’t suppose I need to tell you which one. All first draft stuff, so if you’d cut me a little slack.
Aaron Provender narrowed his eyes at her and tapped a finger against a pair of sensuous lips. Those lips were among the first mental images she had filed away in her fantasy man blueprint folder after coming to work for Provender, Bush and Stone or PBS as they referred to themselves in corporate jargon. The dark brown eyes above those lips shimmered with a hint of feral glee, like he enjoyed making her squirm with his long pauses and intense stares that would not be interrupted until he was good and ready to dial them back.
“Have you finished logging the latest financial stats on the Hoffman merger?”
Eva shifted from foot to foot, taking shallow breaths and praying he didn’t punch any holes in the intricate fabric of her work. “Yes, sir. Last night.”
“What about that report on the latest marketing trends in social media?”
Eva’s brow wrinkled. When had he asked her to do that? “I-I’m not sure. I can’t recall that assignment at the moment.”
Mr. Provender cocked his head and lifted his dark brows as if in challenge. He often reminded Eva of Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights–darkly handsome with the look of a gypsy to him and just as cruel and petulant. Steepling his fingers, he said, “Miss Wolfe. My partners and I pay you quite handsomely to stay on top of these simple tasks we leverage down to you. I’m sure you’d agree doing research beats filing and typing.”
“Yes, sir. It’s just, I clear my inbox every evening and I don’t have that down on my list of projects for today.” Because I’ll bet you never assigned it to me. “If you could resend the particulars, I’ll get on it right away.”
Mr. Provender closed his eyes and exhaled, disapproval dripping from every molecule of his breath in that way the British seemed to be born with. He opened them, and caught her in his sights before dipping his head to his computer. “Certainly. I have nothing better to do than to send you emails multiple times when you accidentally delete them.” His eyes lifted to hers, one brow raised, and then dropped back to his screen. A few clicks of the mouse later he frowned and growled under his breath. “There. You have it now. That’s all. Thank you, Miss Wolfe.”
“Thank you, sir.” And fuck you, asshole. Eva spun to leave, fury fizzing through her veins, and barreled straight into the broad chest of Mr. Bush, a big bear of a man. She recoiled from the impact, and in taking a step backward, lost her footing. Momentarily unbalanced, she flailed her arms to regain her equilibrium, and would have fallen had Mr. Bush not grabbed her shoulders.
“Careful there,” he murmured. He actually seemed…concerned.
Eva blinked a few times to regain her bearings. This was no nice man by any stretch. Yet, his eyes softened as he set her to rights. But only for a second. With a curt nod of his head, he brushed past her to approach Mr. Provender. Eva snatched the opportunity to escape, practically sprinting for the door.
“Aaron, what the hell was that email you sent, ordering me to do the marketing research on social media like I was your lackey?
Ha! More fun from Provender, Bush and Stone in the weeks ahead!
And check out mid week teases from these other talented authors:
We are still looking for some rabid readers of romance to join our street team. Read more about it HERE.