An Executive Decision

AN EXECUTIVE DECISION

Book One in the Executive Decisions trilogy

An erotic novel by Grace Marshall

Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2012

ISBN 9781908917812

Copyright © Grace Marshall 2012

The right of Grace Marshall to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

Other Titles in the Series

An Executive Decision
is dedicated to that wild and wonderful and supremely unpredictable organ which keeps us alive, and keeps us in love, and keeps us in hope – the human heart.

Thank you, with all of my human heart!

A special thanks to Melanie and Helen, who were with me way back at the beginning of
An Executive Decision
and have encouraged me and cheered me on through the long journey.

Thank you, Renee and Jo and all of the lovely Ladiez at Sh! You’ve been a bright spot in my writing journey almost from the beginning. Not only are you a fount of information, fun, and encouragement, but you’re an endless source of inspiration to me. Hugs and kisses and my deepest gratitude.

Thanks to the indomitable Hazel Cushion, and all the fabulous people at Xcite Books for making my dream of the
Executive Decision Trilogy
a reality.

Thank you, Lucy Felthouse, for cracking the PR whip, when necessary, and for staving off more than a few panic attacks for this neurotic writer. Thanks for all that you do. I couldn’t have done it without you, EP!

Thank you, Kay Jaybee, for always being there and for just being your fabulous self. The journey has been so much more fun because we’ve shared it. You’re amazing!

Thank you, Raymond, for putting up with me when I’m not my charming self and loving me anyway. Thank you for believing in me and being proud of me and easing the journey. There’s no one my human heart would rather have by my side. Volim te mnogo!

Chapter One

Dee gave herself one last inspection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. No tell-tale trembling or sweating; the stage fright was all hidden beneath a well-polished exterior. How could she be this tense? She’d been in business with the big boys long enough to have nerves of steel. But this was Ellison Thorne she was meeting. The man was in a league of his own. She’d waited three years for this opportunity, and she was determined he wouldn’t see the mass of quavering jelly beneath the calm.

But when she reached the executive suites of the Pneuma Building, Beverly Neumann beckoned Dee into her office. ‘Ellis is stuck in traffic. He figures it’ll be at least another half hour.’

‘That’s too bad.’ Dee tried her best to mask her disappointment. She had a meeting with a potential head of marketing for Sportwide Extreme Adventure right after this, so there’d be no lingering if Ellis didn’t arrive before her hour was up.

‘I know he’ll do his best to get here,’ Beverly said. ‘He’s dying to meet the woman who threw a drink in Terrance Jamison’s face at Jasper and McDowell’s big New Year bash last year.’

Dee blushed. ‘Not funny, Beverly. I nearly lost my job over that.’ She still couldn’t figure why Jamison hadn’t sued her ass off or had henchmen break the legs of her family and close friends. Even now it made her nervous that he’d taken it so graciously.

‘And if you had, there’d have been ten companies in line to hire you, including Pneuma Inc.,’ Beverly said. ‘It was so worth it. If only I’d had the presence of mind to record it all on my iPhone, you’d have been the queen of YouTube. You seldom get that calibre of entertainment at a corporate New Year’s party.’

Dee glanced at the front page of
The
Oregonian
lying on Beverly’s desk. There was a photo of Ellis shaking hands with the governor. The caption read
Ellison Thorne, a force of nature working for nature.
She studied the image, one of many she’d seen of him. Though there was a warmth about him in photos, it was never blatant, always slightly distant. She was familiar with that distance. She’d been accused of it herself by colleagues who just didn’t understand her sense of focus.

She lingered over the photo, admiring again the strong geography of his face laid bare by short brown hair with its patina of bronze. The well-defined jaw and firm brow created a fortress of sorts, keeping his emotions and thoughts from the prying hordes. From it, he looked out on the world through dark amber eyes that never missed anything and never gave anything away. Heroes were like that, she thought, and she had idolised him and his company for a long time.

It was through Beverly that Dee occasionally caught more intimate glimpses of Ellison Thorne. That was a part of their meetings Dee looked forward to.

Beverly nodded to the seat in front of her desk. ‘Might as well relax. He’ll get here when he gets here.’ She turned her attention to the forest of plants behind her desk and began misting the broad leaves of something that must have come straight from
The
Little Shop of Horrors
. Thanks to Beverly’s insistence that a green workplace actually be green, the whole ten-storey, cantilevered edifice of the Pneuma Building was one colossal hanging garden. It was healthier that way, she’d said.

Dee sat down a safe distance from the sinister-looking foliage. ‘Is Ellis still giving you a hard time about your trip to Brazil?’

‘Yep,’ Beverly said. ‘One minute he’s treating me like an old lady, saying it’s too dangerous for someone my age to go trekking through the jungle, and the next he’s telling me I’m too young to retire and he absolutely can’t run the place without me for at least five more years.’ She brushed pollen from the jacket of her power suit. ‘Five more years! Do you have any idea how much life a person can miss out on in five years?’

‘So what will you do?’ Dee asked.

‘Well –’ Beverly rearranged the leaves of a large fern as though it was her favourite child ‘– first I’m going to Brazil. I haven’t had a real vacation in longer than I care to remember. And when I get back, if he doesn’t find someone to replace me while I’m still here to help train them, that’s just too damned bad, because in exactly one year, I’m out of here.’

‘Good for you,’ Dee said. ‘Life’s too short not to go for it when you get the chance.’

‘Yes it is, isn’t it? And speaking of going for it –’ Beverly sat down in her chair and leaned conspiratorially across her desk ‘– I hear there’s an accountant over at Ab Con – what’s his name, the one with the dark hair that always looks like someone’s been running their fingers through it? I hear he sent you flowers.’

‘I recruited the best finance manager in the history of finance managers for Ab Con, Beverly. I earned every one of those flowers.’

‘Earned the flowers?’ Beverly frowned at her and clucked her tongue. ‘What part of the man being hot for you did you not understand, sweetie?’ Before Dee could cut her off at the pass, Beverly was on a roll. ‘Honestly, you’re hopeless, Dee Henning. I understand your focus, your drive to succeed, really I do, but I gotta wonder how you can even call it success when you’re so wrapped up in your work that the only way you’ll ever get laid is if they put it in the job description. And frankly, if I had my way and I was running the business world, sex would be a contract requirement.’

Dee rolled her eyes, but Beverly clasped her hands on top of her desk, doing a fair imitation of a psychoanalyst. ‘I worry about you, Dee. I really do. Not having time for sex just isn’t healthy.’

‘You’re probably right, it probably isn’t –’ Shoving half a dozen files across the desk at Beverly, Dee changed the subject. ‘But it’s also not healthy for Ellis not to have a replacement for his retiring executive assistant.’ The title “executive assistant” was entirely misleading. Dee knew that Beverly, not Ellis, had chosen it. And though technically she was his equal in the business the two of them, along with Wade Crittenden, had begun 13 years ago, Beverly preferred to work quietly with no pompous moniker to live up to. She wore the title proudly and carried the incredible burden it entailed with panache and enthusiasm. Dee was certain that whoever took up Beverly’s weighty mantle would inherit the humble title as well as its prodigious responsibilities.

Just then Beverly’s BlackBerry buzzed. ‘Damn!’ She punched in a quick reply. ‘Ellis says the traffic’s at a standstill. I was really hoping the two of you would finally meet before I head off to Brazil.’

Dee buried her disappointment. Meeting Thorne was not the real reason she was here, she reminded herself. She still had work to do. She nodded down at the files of resumes of Beverly’s prospective replacements. ‘Best get to it then, hadn’t we?’

But Beverly pushed the files to one side and picked up right where she’d left off. God, the woman was tenacious! ‘Seems to me the obvious solution is to include sex in certain job descriptions, like for an executive assistant, or a secretary, or any position where two people work closely. That’d be a good start, don’t you think?’

‘Great idea. Maybe I’ll find a nice male secretary for myself.’ Dee gave the door a quick glance, certain she’d heard someone approaching. There was no one, but even if there had been, she was sure that wouldn’t have stopped Beverly.

‘I think that would be a wise decision for any busy executive,’ Beverly said. ‘And I doubt you’d have any shortage of applicants. Ellis wouldn’t either, and the benefits to both of you – well, I think you’d be amazed. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I personally can’t see a downside.’ Beverly continued her speculations. ‘Just think of how much more relaxed the two of you would be if you and Ellis had a reliable source of stress-free sex available when you needed it. Imagine how much more focused you’d both be if your junk wasn’t interfering with your brain.’

Dee straightened in her chair. ‘My – junk does not interfere with my brain.’

Beverly leaned over the desk like an accusing lawyer. ‘Ah, but how do you really know that, since you’re not getting any?’

‘Beverly –’

‘The Executive Sex Clause could reduce sick days.’

‘I’m never sick.’

Beverly came around the desk and laid an unsolicited hand on her forehead. ‘I’ve been thinking you look a little pale, and you feel a bit warm to me.’

Dee brushed her hand aside. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need the sick days I’ve got, and I bet Ellis doesn’t either.’

‘A good thing, since you wouldn’t have time to take them if you did. Forget sick days, think of the increase in productivity, the boost to creativity. Think of the serenity in the workplace. That alone’s gotta be worth something.’

‘My productivity’s fine and I’m very creative. Plus I work at Jasper and McDowell. Serenity isn’t part of the package.’ This conversation had gone far enough, farther than Dee wanted, and she really didn’t have time to wait any longer for Ellis. It looked like the long-awaited meeting with the force of nature would have to wait for yet another time. Dee nodded to the folders on Beverly’s desk. ‘As interesting as the idea of a Sex Clause might be, if you insist on deserting Ellis, I need to do my job and find someone who can take your place, which won’t be an easy task.’

When the meeting finished, Beverly walked Dee to the door, glancing down at her watch. ‘Sorry you missed Ellis. But you know how it is with busy executives; it’s catch as catch can, isn’t it?’

Dee had the distinct feeling the woman wasn’t talking about work. She said her goodbyes, promising they’d get together over drinks when Beverly returned from Brazil.

‘I missed her again, didn’t I? She’s going to think I’m avoiding her.’ Ellis dropped into the chair in front of Beverly’s desk and flipped absently through the files Dee Henning had just left. ‘It’s not her I’m avoiding, it’s your silly retirement plans.’

‘You won’t be laughing when you come in here some morning and find my desk empty. You’ll be SOL big time, boy.’

Ellis pulled one of the files from the stack and handed it to her. ‘Here. Here’s my choice. Why not Tally Barnes? She’s about as qualified as anyone, I guess.’

She shoved the folder back at him. ‘You know why not Tally Barnes, now stop being a smartass.’

He offered her an amused chuckle. ‘Who are you kidding, Beverly? You love this place, and you know it. You’re not going to retire. How many false alarms have there been now, three? Four? I’ve lost count. Face it; you’ll work here until you drop dead.’

‘Believe what you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She pulled a manila envelope from the top drawer of her desk and handed it to him.

‘What’s this?’

‘My replacement. Since you won’t help, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. She’s been right under our noses all along.’ She rubbed her hands together with a shiver of anticipation. ‘Come on, humour me.’

Still holding her in a disapproving gaze, he took the envelope as though half expecting it to be booby-trapped. He opened the clasp, then slid the contents from inside and gave it a glance. ‘Wait a minute. This is a file on Dee Henning. You can’t be serious. You want a headhunter to take over running half of Pneuma Inc.?’

‘Don’t be such a snob, Ellis. It’s not like she’ll be taking over tomorrow. I’ll be here to train her up to suit your persnickety standards.’

‘Then why not promote Tally Barnes? I don’t see what you have against her. She always seems fine to me.’ He nodded to the top file in the stack Dee had brought in. ‘She already works for Pneuma Inc., and she’s a lot more qualified. You could train her up.’

‘Oh, she’s already convinced she’s a shoo-in. Hell, she’s already planning to redecorate my office. Wouldn’t be too surprised if she has plans for you too. Don’t give me that snooty smirk. She’s a trouble-maker, Ellis. She’s great at ass-kissing, and that’s why Tally Barnes always seems fine to you. I don’t like her and I don’t trust her, and you know I’m a good judge of character. Trust me on this; she’s not right for my job, no matter what her resume says.’

‘Suit yourself.’ He returned his attention to Dee Henning’s details. ‘How did you get this information anyway?’ The file was too thick for a simple resume, and some of the pages looked like handwritten notes that had been photocopied. Others were odd sizes, some were written on Post-it notes, and the whole package smacked of Beverly’s scheming.

‘Portland’s a small city.’ Suddenly Beverly seemed particularly interested in the leaves of a Christmas cactus sitting on the edge of her desk.

‘Beverly?’

‘I’m friends with Irv McDowell, OK? At least I think we’re still friends.’ The look of driven-snow innocence gave way to something just slightly this side of devious.

‘You’ve been headhunting from the head headhunter? Dee Henning’s Jasper and McDowell’s star recruiter. Surely Irv didn’t give you this willingly.’

Beverly ignored the question and nodded at the photo he now held in his hand. Short, dark hair framed blue eyes, a straight Roman nose, and a full-lipped smile that suggested competence, with a touch of mischief. So this was what Dee Henning looked like. He’d often wondered.

‘She’s exactly what you need on all counts. Though it’s true she’s only a few years out of grad school, what impresses me is her accomplishments during that time. She reminds me of you back in the early days – young, hungry, dedicated … And pretty too. Don’t give me that look, Ellis, you’d blush if you heard some of the juicy conversations about you I overhear in the ladies’ room.’

He put the photo of Dee aside and flipped through the file. ‘What all do you have in here anyway?’ He read out loud from one of the photocopied pages. ‘Classically trained, voice and piano? Oh, that’ll come in really handy at Pneuma Inc. In fact, I was just thinking of requiring it for all new employees.’

‘Stop being an asshole. It’s background information, just stuff that’s good to know.’

A handwritten note stated that both of Dee’s parents were musicians. Her father had sung in the chorus for the Paris Opera. Her mother was a soprano, who went to Paris on some summer programme; nine months later, Dee came along. Ellis suddenly felt like a voyeur. ‘This is none of our business.’ He tried to shove the file back at Beverly, but she refused it.