Read Online Ready or Not by Melissa Brayden - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Melissa Brayden
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like she was born to host parties and entertain. Despite the pretention and the know-it-all attitude, Mallory still got under her skin in a big way.
The cobalt-blue eyes, the thick dark hair, and the body that simply wouldn’t stop.
Then there were the perfectly coordinated outfits. The business suits and matching heels. God. Even when Mallory came to Showplace in casual attire, she was still ultra put together. Not a hair out of place. Something about it just made Hope want to mess her up a little, take her for a ride on the wild side some day, see how she fared.
Hope shook her head and smiled into the night as her thoughts dipped to that kiss she hadn’t been able to resist stealing on the beach. Something about their banter—that back-and-forth had pushed her over the edge, and she just hadn’t been able to resist seizing the moment and shutting Mallory up a little. There was a definite chemistry between them. That was for sure.
And she wasn’t yet done exploring that.
Hope smiled as she drove the rest of the way to Manhattan, enjoying the ride, the night, and reliving the tantalizing details of a stolen moment on a darkened beach.
Chapter Four
The black suit was too severe. That much Mallory knew as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. This meant she had only three point two minutes to be out the door of her apartment, wearing a new outfit, and on the elevator en route to her presentation to Big Top, the chain of movie theaters they were hoping to sign on as the newest Soho Savvy client. This company, from her research, seemed to be made up of less-formal people, edgy types, which meant conservative attire was not the way to go. Damn it, she should have planned better.
Ripping off items of clothing as she walked, Mallory zeroed in on her lime-green dress hanging in the center of the closet. It was bright enough not to be stuffy, but covered enough skin with its three-quarter sleeves and modest neckline to pass for professional. Perfect. She accessorized with a pair of black pumps and a silver necklace before flying out of the apartment. Once in the elevator, she pulled the clasp from the nape of her neck and let her hair tumble freely. She could do edgy. Well, she could try for edgy. Maybe she should have had Hunter accompany her with Hunter’s standard outside-the-box wardrobe. Camouflage pants and lip gloss on a client call? Why the hell not? They offered a customized service, after all. She filed this point away in case there was a next time.
A short subway ride to midtown later, Mallory found herself in a waiting area that looked much more like a gamer’s lair than any kind of corporate headquarters. Retro arcade games from the 1980s lined the walls, and the likes of PAC-MAN, Centipede, and Burger Time pinged and chirped in an electronic chorus of intimidation, because that’s a bit how Mallory felt in the midst of it all. The receptionist was hot, but dressed more like a Hooters waitress than a corporate assistant. She was pretty sure this was by design.
“Ms. Spencer,” the Hooters girl said. “They’re ready for you in Mr. Newton’s office. Third door on the right.”
“Thank you.” And please put on a sweater , the friend in her added mentally. She made her way to Mr. Newton’s office and found herself in what looked to be an extension of the lobby. More video games, an indoor basketball hoop, and a giant movie screen with Batman Returns playing on a silent loop made up the room. Instead of a desk, a conglomeration of leather armchairs was arranged in a sitting-room formation, and at this point in time, they were occupied by what seemed to be three frat guys.
Correction—her very important potential clients.
She paused in the doorway and took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Mr. Newton?” she asked the one who resembled the online photo of Timothy Newton, the CEO. Only this guy looked about ten years younger than the photo. Photoshop carried amazing
The cobalt-blue eyes, the thick dark hair, and the body that simply wouldn’t stop.
Then there were the perfectly coordinated outfits. The business suits and matching heels. God. Even when Mallory came to Showplace in casual attire, she was still ultra put together. Not a hair out of place. Something about it just made Hope want to mess her up a little, take her for a ride on the wild side some day, see how she fared.
Hope shook her head and smiled into the night as her thoughts dipped to that kiss she hadn’t been able to resist stealing on the beach. Something about their banter—that back-and-forth had pushed her over the edge, and she just hadn’t been able to resist seizing the moment and shutting Mallory up a little. There was a definite chemistry between them. That was for sure.
And she wasn’t yet done exploring that.
Hope smiled as she drove the rest of the way to Manhattan, enjoying the ride, the night, and reliving the tantalizing details of a stolen moment on a darkened beach.
Chapter Four
The black suit was too severe. That much Mallory knew as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. This meant she had only three point two minutes to be out the door of her apartment, wearing a new outfit, and on the elevator en route to her presentation to Big Top, the chain of movie theaters they were hoping to sign on as the newest Soho Savvy client. This company, from her research, seemed to be made up of less-formal people, edgy types, which meant conservative attire was not the way to go. Damn it, she should have planned better.
Ripping off items of clothing as she walked, Mallory zeroed in on her lime-green dress hanging in the center of the closet. It was bright enough not to be stuffy, but covered enough skin with its three-quarter sleeves and modest neckline to pass for professional. Perfect. She accessorized with a pair of black pumps and a silver necklace before flying out of the apartment. Once in the elevator, she pulled the clasp from the nape of her neck and let her hair tumble freely. She could do edgy. Well, she could try for edgy. Maybe she should have had Hunter accompany her with Hunter’s standard outside-the-box wardrobe. Camouflage pants and lip gloss on a client call? Why the hell not? They offered a customized service, after all. She filed this point away in case there was a next time.
A short subway ride to midtown later, Mallory found herself in a waiting area that looked much more like a gamer’s lair than any kind of corporate headquarters. Retro arcade games from the 1980s lined the walls, and the likes of PAC-MAN, Centipede, and Burger Time pinged and chirped in an electronic chorus of intimidation, because that’s a bit how Mallory felt in the midst of it all. The receptionist was hot, but dressed more like a Hooters waitress than a corporate assistant. She was pretty sure this was by design.
“Ms. Spencer,” the Hooters girl said. “They’re ready for you in Mr. Newton’s office. Third door on the right.”
“Thank you.” And please put on a sweater , the friend in her added mentally. She made her way to Mr. Newton’s office and found herself in what looked to be an extension of the lobby. More video games, an indoor basketball hoop, and a giant movie screen with Batman Returns playing on a silent loop made up the room. Instead of a desk, a conglomeration of leather armchairs was arranged in a sitting-room formation, and at this point in time, they were occupied by what seemed to be three frat guys.
Correction—her very important potential clients.
She paused in the doorway and took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Mr. Newton?” she asked the one who resembled the online photo of Timothy Newton, the CEO. Only this guy looked about ten years younger than the photo. Photoshop carried amazing
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