Business and Pleasure

Pleasure

Business and Pleasure

Jinni James

Copyright 2013 Jinni James

Smashwords Edition

Acknowledgments

First and foremost I have to thank my husband who
supports me and puts up with me throughout this process. When I
told him I wanted to write a book he told me to go for it. If I
have a question he is there with the answer or at least will google
it and then tell me the answer. He is my rock and I could not write
my stories without him.

I have to thank my kids, my two as well as my step
daughter for keeping me in check. They keep me grounded and keep me
on my toes.

Next I have to thank all of my friends and family who
stand behind me and push me to the finish line. Not only because
they love me but because they also want to read my next story.
There are way too many to mention one by one but please know that I
love you all.

My parents who are awesome. Their unconditional love
and support keep me going.

I would like to thank my cover artist Elaina Lee with
For The Muse Design. You are amazing and I plan on using you more
and more in the future.

I have to thank a wonderful editor Jill Noble for
helping me with all of this and educating me on writing.

Last but definitely not least I have to thank all of
you who read my books. I am so honored and grateful to each and
every one of you and I hope you enjoy these books as much as I have
enjoyed writing them.

Thank you and love to you all!

JJ

Business
and Pleasure

By Jinni James

Chapter One

It is after midnight in beautiful Manhattan.
While most people around America are sleeping at this hour, many of
the residents of this fair city are only just getting started. So,
it is no real surprise I have a visitor at this time of night. A
visitor I don’t want my sister, who happens to be sleeping down the
hall, to know about.

I creep down the darkened hallway, tugging
my “friend” toward the front door in the hopes of getting him out
as quietly as possible. But the moment I open the door, my sister
comes barreling through from the outside hallway. I give my friend
a gentle shove to send him on his way, and then I close the front
door and turn toward my lovely sister, Rebecca, who apparently
could care less that she should be asleep or studying at the
moment.

“Rebecca! Why are you just now getting home?
I thought you were asleep. You do realize you have finals tomorrow,
right?”

Rebecca tries to roll her eyes without my
seeing, but I notice. I always notice.

“My God, Lizzy, you are turning into Mom!
Chill. I’m going to bed right now, and I’ll be fine tomorrow,”
Rebecca says, and then she nods toward the closed front door and
hastily changes the subject. “So, was that another one of your boy
toys?”

“Becca!”

“Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands. “I
won’t press you for answers. But Lizzy, just so you know, it is
perfectly fine to have a sex life. I am not fifteen years old
anymore. I can handle knowing my big sister is sexually
active.”

As Rebecca walks toward her bedroom, it hits
me that she is right. She is not fifteen years old anymore. She is
twenty-two and about to graduate from NYU. I could not be more
proud of my little sister. I only wish Mom and Dad could be here to
watch her graduate. I walk over to where their picture sits on the
entryway table. One of the things I missed most after they died was
seeing them when I walked through the front door. By displaying the
photograph here, I can sometimes fool myself they are still around
to greet me. I look at my mom, with her bright red hair and crystal
blue eyes so much like mine, and then I study my dad, with his
blonde hair, green eyes, and all his little wrinkles…most of which,
he used to say, he’d developed thanks to me…and my heart aches.

Almost seven years have passed since their
private jet went down during a flight to L.A. for a business trip.
No one survived the crash. I will never forget the day our aunt
Crystal came to tell us. I was nineteen years old at the time and
still living at home—planning to do so until I graduated. Crystal
came in, sat both Becca and I down, and explained what happened. At
first, I was in total shock, then denial, then grief, and then
finally, I decided it was time to step up and take care of my
sister. My parents left everything to Becca and me. We were totally
and completely taken care of. Mom and Dad owned a very successful
computer software business. They even helped the government with
national security software. Financially, we were set for life, but
emotionally, well…for one thing, we still had to make it through
school without our parents. Most wealthy families hire a nanny to
take care of their children, but our mother refused to allow
someone else to raise us. Sure, we had babysitters now and then,
but our mom was hands on. I will always be grateful for I had such
wonderful parents. I set the picture back down in its place and
decide it’s time to go to bed. After all, I do have work in the
morning.

*****

I wake the next day to a beautiful and sunny
Manhattan morning. The sun streams in through my floor- to-ceiling
windows, which also provide an amazing view. From fifteen stories
up, my bedroom overlooks Central ark. I really lucked out on this
apartment. After I graduated Becca and I decided it was time to get
our own place so I started looking and this apartment actually just
kind of fell into our laps. We had looked at ten apartments easy
and I was almost ready to give up. The apartments usually either
“”’’did not have something I wanted or something Becca
wanted...etc. It is difficult to please two women at the same time
that is for sure. We were walking out of one showing when we ran
into a couple in the lobby who happen ’to be moving. We started
talking and they showed us this apartment right then and there.
Becca and I fell in love with it. Who wouldn’t? It is a gorgeous
apartment with three bedrooms, three bathrooms, and floor to
ceiling windows in almost every room. There is a fireplace which I
love in the living room as well as my room and it did’ not seem to
need much work as far as tile and paint go because it was already
how I liked it. The kitchen was very neutral with lots of earth
tones. Dark brown tile on the floor and counters to match. My
bedroom was white. I have always wanted a white bedroom but my
mother always said too much white was blinding. I disagree. My
walls are white, my bedding is white, and I even have a solid white
chaise lounge in the window next to the fireplace. I walk into my
huge walk in closet to pick out what I am going to wear today. As I
look I realize I tend to favor black and gray. All my pants suits
are either black or gray. I do have a few blue shirts and a couple
pink ones thanks to Becca but other than that it is mostly all the
same. I must shop’ more’. I pick out my gray pant suit and decide
to mix it up a bit and throw on a light blue shirt under my vest.
My shoes were another story. I had a ton and they were all
different colors. Shoes were my weakness. I slip into my blue
Manolo Blahniks, which perfectly match my shirt, and walk
downstairs to check on Becca.

I peek into her room, then open the door the
whole way when I see she’s not there. Her made bed indicates she’s
already gone for the day. Holy crap! I might just have a heart
attack. I give one last look around her bedroom before shutting the
door and heading back down the hallway, shaking my head. I still
cannot believe how she decorated her room. Although, I did tell her
that she could do whatever she wanted in there. Still…pink and
black? Pink-painted walls.
Hot
pink
-painted walls…
Pink bedding with black accent pillows. Black carpeting with a pink
rug, and a pink loveseat and chairs filled the adjacent little
sitting area. I just can’t imagine how someone could go day in and
day out surrounded by that much pink and black, but that is
Becca.

I walk into the living room, pick up my
iPhone, and send her a quick text:
Good luck on your exams
!
A moment later, I head out the door.

The wonderful thing about living and working
in Manhattan is that I get to walk through Central Park every day.
The fresh air and the beautiful scenery can definitely make me a
morning person. I grab my coffee from the first coffee house I see
and proceed to walk through the park... I love to people watch, and
God knows there are plenty of characters here for me to observe.
Moms pushing babies in those big, fancy strollers, getting in an
early morning jog. People walking their dogs, riding their bikes,
and even on horseback. The city is always so busy, but the park
provides a nice setting where they can slow down, if they like, and
relax. My head is full of what my day holds ahead. I have a board
meeting with the directors at my parents company, Neo Corp, and
then I’m off to where my heart really lays—Hamilton Publishing
House. Once I graduated from college with my degree in literature,
I immediately opened my own business. Reading, writing,
editing—I’ve been passionate about everything associated with books
since I was a child. My mother always said if you needed to find
me, just find the closest bookstore. I loved how I could lose
myself in a good book, step into another world and forget my
problems, even if only for a little while. So, I decided I wanted
to become a publisher, working with new and experienced authors
alike, giving readers more books to enjoy. There was always room
for one more publishing house—just like bakeries, coffee shops, and
salons. I believe we can all co-exist in peace and share the
success.

As usual I am not looking forward to this
meeting at Neo Corp mainly because I am the only woman out of a
board full of men who all talk down to me but since I still own
fifty-one percent of the company, I have to be there. I had
considered selling my shares a long time ago, but I could never
bring myself to go through with actually unloading them. Neo Corp
belonged to my parents, and they were as passionate about their
company as I am about mine. So I hung on, attending meetings as
necessary, showing up when needed, but doing little else.

The meeting was the same as usual. Sales,
blah, blah, blah. Gross income, blah, blah, blah. Expand, blah,
blah, blah. I pretty much just sat there and looked pretty. I am
sure no one understood why I attended these things, but I thought
of my attendance as a responsibility. If I owned fifty-one percent
of a company, then I at
least
needed to show up for the
meetings. Lucky for me, this particular one only lasted an
hour—sometimes, they went on and on for the entire day. I bid the
other board members good day and head off to Hamilton.

Two buildings down from the publishing house
office, I grab another latte. I walk into work, and the office
seems involved in some kind of a silent uproar, if that makes any
sense. Tension lies just beneath the atmosphere’s surface. I walk
into my office and sit down, wondering what’s up. I have my
computer open for two seconds when Natalie, my assistant comes
in.

“Sorry to bother you, Ms. Hamilton.”

“It’s fine, Natalie. What’s going on?”

Natalie sits in the chair in front of my
desk and leans forward, as if she’s about to tell me a secret.
“There is a rumor going around the office that another company is
planning a buy out.”

“
What
!” I can’t stop myself from
screaming. “Nat, that’s ridiculous. I’m the owner. Would I not know
if some company was going to try to buy out my company?”

Natalie sits back in her chair, “I suppose
you’re right. I guess I should know better than to listen to
Bob.”

Ah, my lovely CFO…always running his mouth.
“Bob doesn’t know jack, Natalie. I own the company. If someone was
attempting to buy me out, then Bob would have scheduled a meeting
to talk to me about it, after which, the two of us would meet with
whoever it is that has designs on my company.”

Natalie grows pale, and for a moment, I
wonder if she might get sick. “Ms. Hamilton that is the other thing
I had to tell you. Bob wants a meeting with you at 1:00 p.m.
today.”

Now, I wonder if
I
might get felt
sick to my stomach. There is no way. Why would anyone want to take
over my company? Sure we’ have been doing well, really well
considering I have only three years ago. Each day, we receive more
manuscript submissions from authors who hope we’ll consider their
stories for publication. And in fact, we’ve been doing so well; I
had to hire more editors.
Hmm
… I suppose notion that someone
might have a powerful interest in my company isn’t so far-fetched,
after all, but I refuse to even consider the idea. This is my
company. I started it from nothing, and I built it from the ground,
up. It’s my passion, and I’m not about to let some big shot
publishing house take over my baby! I look over at Natalie, who
looks downright ill. No doubt, she’s sensed my rage at Bob for his
failure in telling me something so important
before
my own
employees knew of the issue.