Excerpt: Tib's Temptation

Excerpt: Tib's Temptation

Book 3: Bone Cold-Alive Series

SC Ward stood between the overfull planters at the entrance to the Cold Bones, Inc. building on Sunset and involuntarily shivered. Not that one Mr. Levi Fletcher was capable of giving her the willies, but the entire experience had left her drained and bonetired. Oh, perfect, all the better to work with Bone Cold—Alive, the rock band that took pride on its nonstop music and partying, the group so involved with itself that the reinvention of the wheel wouldn’t have been beyond them. And she’d just sat across from its chief cook and bottle washer for an hour and tried not to be the fly walking into that man’s web.

But he had her. He’d had her from the minute his secretary had rescheduled her appointment Sunday night, a move which should have served as affirmation of all she’d heard about her new boss. It was his way or the highway: she’d heard that and now she knew it was true.

So from first interview Monday morning she’d been bumped to the bottom of the heap on Tuesday. There had to be a reason, and if at first she’d thought it was because he probably didn’t want to hire her, by the time they were halfway through their somewhat onesided discussion, she knew better. She was last because he was desperate for someone of her talent, but hardass that he was, he wanted to view all his options first. All his options for this round at least. She ought to know. She’d talked to all the former BCA Web and Graphic Designers, first finding the one to be most recently dismissed on “grounds of incompatibility” as Fletch had put it and working backward through the list. She’d even talked to the ones that hadn’t made the final cut in the last two months. And still she went for the interview! What was she thinking?

She’d almost told the secretary thanksbutnothanks. Just another example of what desperation would do to a person. Onemeal days had quickly lost their appeal for her. So she’d graciously agreed to the day change, then been doubly thankful that the call had come Sunday night, since the phone company shut off her cell service Monday. 

The shadows were lengthening on the sidewalk. SC pulled her fingers through her hair and readjusted the metal strap of her purse. She headed for the bus stop in the next block. Desperation? She was going to put a new spin on that word in Mr. Levi Fletcher’s dictionary. Instead of going back to the bytheweek motel, she was heading to Rodeo Drive and a few boutiques she used to be very familiar with. No way would Fletch want his new hire to look scruffy this week. 

The credit cards helped her walk more quickly.

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