We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called "Opportunity" and its first chapter is New Year's Day.
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce
First Night
Copyright 2008, Leah Braemel
Cover Art: Scott Carpenter
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are no construed to be real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely incidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
It might have been the two glasses of champagne that drove Jodi Tyler to consider Terri’s dare. Or maybe, she told herself for the fifth time, she really was concerned her boss was working himself too hard. Or maybe it was just because she was horny.
Though her mouth was moving, Jodi could barely hear a word Terri said over Hector’s attempts at singing and the amps blasting full-power. The music itself wasn’t bad—Juan and Tyrell both played a mean guitar but Hector really needed to be muzzled.
Champagne sloshing over the side of her wine glass, Terri gestured toward their boss who stood in the farthest corner, his cell phone over one ear, and a hand over the other. Terri put her mouth to Jodi’s ear and repeated, “Come on, Jodi. Mark brought his laptop to the party, and when he’s not working on it, he’s been on that damned phone.
Someone needs to get him to loosen up.”
Jodi rolled her eyes. “And just how do you propose I do that?” Terri flattened her free hand over her stomach and waggled her hips. “Take him up to the hospitality suite and do a little mattress rumba with him. There’s no better way to start a New Year than with some hot monkey sex.”
“Terri!”
“Jodi,” Terri mimicked Jodi’s exasperation. “He’s not seeing anyone, and neither are you since you finally saw the light about Slimeball Dan. Sex is the perfect way to relax, and honey, you both need to relax. Besides, I’ve seen the way you eye Mark when you think no one’s looking. You’re horny for the man; don’t deny it.”
“I am not!” Yes, I am.
“Coward. It’s time you get back up on the horse and Mark’s the perfect stallion to ride.” Terri shoved the champagne glass into Jodi’s hand. “Here. Give him this. Tell him there’s a private party and he’s invited. I bet he’ll have you seeing fireworks before the ball drops in Times Square.”
Before Jodi could point out that left her less than twenty minutes to saddle up the boss and ride him into the sunset, Terri shoved her in Mark’s direction.
What the heck am I doing ? Jodi asked herself as she slowly maneuvered across the dance floor. Wouldn’t it be great to have a partner lead in the mattress rumba for once? What harm can a quickie do ? Making up her mind, she pushed through the dancers toward her target. When Mark edged out of the room, she switched directions and followed him into the hall.
“Damn it, where’d he go? He was here a minute ago.” She called to a nearby Celada Security employee chatting up one of the tuxedo-clad waitresses. “Hey, Jake?
You see where Mark went?”
Without taking his eyes off the waitress, Jake used his chin to point down the hall. “Try the Hospitality Suite.”
Mark had left the door partially open so she slipped in without knocking and closed the door. She hesitated for a second then threw the deadbolt.
“Yeah, I know, Sam, but Martin’s got me by the short hairs. He’s underbid me on the Huffman Oil contract, and from the sounds of it, he’s going after the Gottfried account as well.” His back to her, Mark Rodriguez sat at the desk, his cell phone still pressed to his ear, two-finger typing something into his laptop.
“I appreciate that
~Edith Lovejoy Pierce
First Night
Copyright 2008, Leah Braemel
Cover Art: Scott Carpenter
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are no construed to be real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely incidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
It might have been the two glasses of champagne that drove Jodi Tyler to consider Terri’s dare. Or maybe, she told herself for the fifth time, she really was concerned her boss was working himself too hard. Or maybe it was just because she was horny.
Though her mouth was moving, Jodi could barely hear a word Terri said over Hector’s attempts at singing and the amps blasting full-power. The music itself wasn’t bad—Juan and Tyrell both played a mean guitar but Hector really needed to be muzzled.
Champagne sloshing over the side of her wine glass, Terri gestured toward their boss who stood in the farthest corner, his cell phone over one ear, and a hand over the other. Terri put her mouth to Jodi’s ear and repeated, “Come on, Jodi. Mark brought his laptop to the party, and when he’s not working on it, he’s been on that damned phone.
Someone needs to get him to loosen up.”
Jodi rolled her eyes. “And just how do you propose I do that?” Terri flattened her free hand over her stomach and waggled her hips. “Take him up to the hospitality suite and do a little mattress rumba with him. There’s no better way to start a New Year than with some hot monkey sex.”
“Terri!”
“Jodi,” Terri mimicked Jodi’s exasperation. “He’s not seeing anyone, and neither are you since you finally saw the light about Slimeball Dan. Sex is the perfect way to relax, and honey, you both need to relax. Besides, I’ve seen the way you eye Mark when you think no one’s looking. You’re horny for the man; don’t deny it.”
“I am not!” Yes, I am.
“Coward. It’s time you get back up on the horse and Mark’s the perfect stallion to ride.” Terri shoved the champagne glass into Jodi’s hand. “Here. Give him this. Tell him there’s a private party and he’s invited. I bet he’ll have you seeing fireworks before the ball drops in Times Square.”
Before Jodi could point out that left her less than twenty minutes to saddle up the boss and ride him into the sunset, Terri shoved her in Mark’s direction.
What the heck am I doing ? Jodi asked herself as she slowly maneuvered across the dance floor. Wouldn’t it be great to have a partner lead in the mattress rumba for once? What harm can a quickie do ? Making up her mind, she pushed through the dancers toward her target. When Mark edged out of the room, she switched directions and followed him into the hall.
“Damn it, where’d he go? He was here a minute ago.” She called to a nearby Celada Security employee chatting up one of the tuxedo-clad waitresses. “Hey, Jake?
You see where Mark went?”
Without taking his eyes off the waitress, Jake used his chin to point down the hall. “Try the Hospitality Suite.”
Mark had left the door partially open so she slipped in without knocking and closed the door. She hesitated for a second then threw the deadbolt.
“Yeah, I know, Sam, but Martin’s got me by the short hairs. He’s underbid me on the Huffman Oil contract, and from the sounds of it, he’s going after the Gottfried account as well.” His back to her, Mark Rodriguez sat at the desk, his cell phone still pressed to his ear, two-finger typing something into his laptop.
“I appreciate that
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