Laina Turner - Presley Thurman 01 - Stilettos & Scoundrels

  Stilettos

  &

  Scoundrels

  Laina Turner

  Copyright 2011 Laina Turner

  Five Seas Ink Publishing

  Acknowledgements

  My dream was always to be a writer but I never had the confidence that anything I wrote would be worthwhile reading. However, I finally got to the point where I figured, why not? So here it is. My first fiction book, in print. Whoo-hoo!

  I would like to thank my family and friends who never lost confidence in me and helped me through this journey to my dream.

  I want to give a big thanks to Melissa whose fantastic editing skills were able to take my book and make it even better.

  Most of all thanks to my mother, LaNita, who gave me the gift and desire to write (and many ideas for this book). I wish you were here to share this with me. I miss you!

  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Laina

  Prologue

  Gently touching the handle of the front door was all it took to make it swing wide open. It was late, after midnight, and everyone in the house except Tom was asleep. As usual, Tom was in his study working late. Walking carefully and quietly through the foyer, the adrenaline began to kick in. The intruder confidently walked into Tom’s study. Tom was concentrating so hard on the papers in front of him that he was unaware of anything else. Raising his hand, the intruder hit a stack of books sitting on a side table, sending them crashing to the floor. Tom spun around with a look of shock on his face as he recognized the person swinging a sharp object toward him. Tom raised his hands to protect himself but he wasn’t quick enough. The spikey end of the stiletto heel punctured his neck instantly, sending a spray of blood over the papers on his desk. He tried to cry out, but all that sounded was a gurgling noise as his lungs filled with blood.

  The intruder set the shoe down next to Tom and backed out of the room softly, closing the door to the study and hoping no one would come looking for Tom until morning.

  Chapter 1

  What was I thinking? Did I really just tell off my boss and get myself fired? I smiled, thinking back to the moment I told David Ritter I wouldn’t sleep with him if he were the last man on Earth. Even if he promised me the new Louis Vuitton satchel, I wouldn’t sleep with him—and I’ve always said I would do anything for that Louis satchel. By the look on his face, it wasn’t something he was accustomed to hearing. Though I was now unemployed, it was such a small price to pay to finally tell him off.

  I made my way back to my condo, forgoing the bus in lieu of a brisk walk the few blocks from my office—well, my former office. It was a nice day out and frankly, I hated public transportation. The bus was just a necessary evil on rainy and cold days. Besides, walking the few blocks to my office would take me past one of my favorite boutiques, Element. I could hardly afford to shop there, but I loved to look. They always had the most fabulous window displays and that would be sure to brighten my outlook. I thought back to what transpired a few hours earlier. It had started out as a good day. My hair turned out well because the low humidity helped keep it frizz proof. I was wearing one of my favorite skirts, a chocolate-colored pencil skirt, and paired it with a cream-colored cowl neck sweater. It was April but the wind in Chicago meant that it was still chilly, and a sweater seemed just the thing on a crisp spring day. I slipped on my brown Jimmy Choos and favorite silver earrings from Silvapada with matching bangle bracelet, and headed out the door. I stopped at Starbucks on the way to work, ordered a venti Chai skinny with one Splenda, and walked in the door to the office with a few minutes to spare. Enough time to chat with my best work friend Tonya, who was smoking surreptitiously out the employee entrance just underneath the non-smoking sign.

  “Tonya, one of these days you are going to get caught and get in big trouble,” I said to my friend.

  “Whatever,” Tonya said, waving her hands absently. “They can’t afford to get rid of me. I know where all the skeletons are buried,” she laughed.

  Tonya was joking, but she also wasn’t far off. Working at McLaughlin Industries for the last fifteen years, Tonya was the only one on our floor who had worked there the entire time our boss, David Ritter, had. David Ritter was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen, and Tonya knew about everything he had done that the company had tried to sweep under the rug. She also had no problem telling him she knew what a despicable ass he was, and for that reason, he didn’t mess with her much. She claimed it was because he didn’t like big women. Tonya was a beautiful, full-figured woman with creamy milk chocolate skin. She had one of the best personalities of anyone I knew—fun loving with a great sense of humor. She intimidated David, so he just ignored her whenever possible. She and I laughed about it often.

  “You want to check out the spring sale at Macy’s on our lunch break?” Tonya asked.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  “Good.” Tonya twisted her cigarette against the brick wall to put it out and flicked the butt in the trash can. I was waiting for her to start a fire someday, but so far, she’d been lucky. “We might as well get this day started.”

  About an hour after we got back from lunch, where, incidentally, I had the good fortune to pick up two pairs of Diesel jeans and a cute red DKNY stretchy t-shirt—neither of which I could afford, even on sale, David called me in to his office. Not an unusual occurrence in itself. As the Senior Human Resource manager, I had many meetings with David in his capacity as Vice President of Sales. I didn’t enjoy my meetings with him because he was always coming on to me and it had grown tiresome. A couple of times, I had complained to my boss Gary after David wouldn’t stop texting me about taking me out or about how I looked that day. I wasn’t sure what Gary, the Vice President of Human Resources, had said when he talked to David, but David had mostly behaved since then. He primarily ignored me, as he did Tonya. It was no easy feat for him because he worked with me every day. When forced to speak to directly to me, he was curt and tense, but I didn’t really care because at least it meant he left me alone. Alhough lately I wondered more and more why I still worked there under those conditions. I didn’t trust him and I was just waiting for his old antics to flare up again. Today I wasn’t disappointed.

  “You wanted to see me, David?” I walked into his office and stood in front of his oversized mahogany desk.

  “Yes. Have a seat.” David gestured to one of the chairs beside his desk, next to the small coffee table. His office wasn’t very luxurious, but it was definitely a step up from my tiny cubicle.

  I sat down as David went to the other chair. This put us too close in proximity in my opinion, especially with the overpowering stench of his cologne. I wanted to gag, but I knew if I moved away from him, he would notice.

  “I wanted to talk to you about the workforce reduction reports, Presley. They’re still four percent higher than where I asked you to come in last time.” I wasn’t surprised he wanted to discuss this. One of the aspects of my field that I hated most was that I was responsible for cutting jobs. I knew it was unavoidable if the company was to remain profitable, but it was a distasteful job nonetheless.

  “David, I realize the numbers were above expectations, but the higher average salary of some of the more tenured employees wasn’t figured into the original numbers. Head count came in on target. One person less actually, but the salary piece was higher.”

  “Not good enough. You needed to hit those numbers or it throws off the rest of my projections. I’m accountable for those. You need to fix it.”

  “How do you expect me to do that?” I looked at him incredulously. “I can’
t just get rid of people because they make too much money and don’t fit into your spreadsheet calculations.”

  “Hey, I’m the sales guy, you’re the HR person. It’s your job to figure it out.”

  I seethed. There was no way to meet the numbers he wanted and he knew it. There was only so much I could do from a legal and ethical standpoint. He just wanted to make my life difficult, and he was doing a damned fine job at it.

  “Maybe we could work something out,” David said lecherously, putting his hand on my knee.

  I deliberately took his hand, removed it off my knee, and looked him straight in the eye. “And what exactly would that be?”

  “Let’s just say if you are nice to me, I could be persuaded to overlook the discrepancy, and you wouldn’t have to lay off any more people,” David said with his version of a charming smile, returning his hand to my knee.

  I jumped up and faced David, putting my hands on my hips. “If you think I would do anything outside my professional capacity for you, you are sadly mistaken,” I said furiously. “Your behavior is despicable and I’m not going to tolerate it.”

  David flushed a deep red. “Are you sure about that, Presley?” He sneered. “We’re making cuts all across the company, and if you aren’t doing your job, which you clearly aren’t by being over budget, well…”

  “Are you trying to tell me that if I am not nice to you, you are going to fire me?”

  “I’m not doing anything. This is your choice.” David sat back in his chair looking smug, as if he really thought I was going to change my mind.

  “Well…” David said.

  “Well nothing. I won’t do it.”

  “Then I guess you have left me no choice. You’re fired.”

  “What! You can’t do that.”

  “Yes I can. I’ve talked to HR already about your not coming in line with the budget, and like I said, we need to make more cuts.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. There was no way Gary knew about this. No fucking way! David got up and went behind his desk.

  “That’s all,” he said dismissively. “Please clear out your desk and leave. I assume you won’t cause any trouble on your way out. I would hate to call security.”

  I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I walked over to the desk and David looked up.

  “Is there something else, Presley?”

  “Just one more thing.”

  David looked up expectantly; I picked up his coffee cup and threw the contents at him. His jaw dropped, in shock. He stood there dripping coffee off what was probably a five-hundred-dollar suit. I started laughing. “There, that’s all I have to say.” I then turned around and walked out of his office.

  Chapter 2“Hi, Charles,” I greeted the doorman of the building where I lived, just off Michigan Avenue.

  Ok, admittedly, it was WAY off Michigan Avenue, but since it was within walking distance to all the great shopping, I felt it was a somewhat accurate assessment. I resided in a beautiful, but old, condominium in a six-floor walk-up. I cursed the climb often, but tried to tell myself what great exercise I was getting and that I needed all I could get. On a sunny day, I could see the skyline for miles—if I looked out the bathroom window at a right angle, while perching precariously on the toilet seat. However, with the real estate prices in Chicago, I knew I was lucky to have this.

  I usually liked walking around the city and take in my surroundings, but on a windy day like today, I just wished my dark red hair would quit blowing into my eyes and mouth or, at the very least, that I had not forgotten a rubber band or barrette.

  I tightened the belt of my light blue overcoat; even safely inside my building, it was still chilly. The air coming in from Lake Michigan today was strong and cold, as was typical for spring in Chicago. Even though the wind drove me crazy, this was one of my favorite times of the year in the city. The crisp air had such a clean smell—unlike the warm stench of garbage not yet picked up that would intoxicate the city’s summer air in a few months. It was a small price to pay for warm weather.

  Charles smiled at me as I walked to the stairs. He was such a cute old man—so bald and chubby that you just wanted to squeeze him, and what a sweetheart. He was a huge flirt and all the residents here loved him. Charles had been the doorman for over thirty years. He had started when the building had been in its heyday, stayed on during its decline, and was happy to see it on its way up again. Always telling the tenants how their energy kept him young, he was a permanent fixture here, and I couldn’t imagine the place without him. This building was a part of him.

  “Hi, Red. You look lovely as ever today.” Charles winked at me the same way he had every day for years. Normally, I hated that overused nickname for a redhead, but coming from him, I couldn’t get mad. If only he were forty years younger, he would be the man of my dreams.

  I loved the energy of Chicago; it was always fast paced and put me in great spirits. Walking into my building and seeing Charles, I almost forgot my current troubles. This was my own personal palace; I loved it here and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. When I moved to Chicago right out of school, I purchased my condominium. At the time, this section of town wasn’t cool, but rather a stomping ground for vagrants. When I bought it, it was all I could afford. Actually, I couldn’t really afford it at all, but, crazy enough, the bank thought I could. No wonder the lending industry was in such disarray. I wanted a place of my own so bad, I took a gamble that not only would I make enough money to eventually pay my mortgage and eat something more than Ramen noodles but that more people like myself would move into the area and property values would go up. Lucky for me, over the last five years, both had happened. The area went from old and decrepit to shabby chic, if you were generous. Over time, the place had caught on and young professionals started moving in, which gave the building life and energy. It was a great place to come home to, at least in my opinion. My mother had a different opinion. My mother liked the city, to visit, but didn’t think the area I lived in was safe enough for her baby. Although, she somehow didn’t have a problem with the fact that my younger brother, Jesse, was currently living in Los Angeles working on his career as an actor. Last year, it was Oregon because he wanted to be a forest ranger. The year before that he spent in Mexico as a zip-line instructor. He was a little unfocused but he somehow always got away with what I never could. I admit I was often jealous of his carefree ways and sometimes wished I were brave enough to buck the system.

  Though I guessed that, in some way, today I had done exactly that.

  I needed to give Jesse a call, maybe go out and see him for a while since I didn’t have a job. Maybe get myself a job as a model or a go-go dancer or something. That thought made me laugh…as if that would ever happen. I was sure my ass would not meet Hollywood standards.

  Regardless of my mother’s opinion, something about the city of Chicago had always drawn me in. Growing up in the country, I always thought the city was this magical place. As a child, I insisted my parents bring me to Chicago for birthdays, events, and all those special occasions. It never ceased to be exciting for me.

  Enough reflecting, I said to myself, unlocking my door. There were more pressing things to worry about—like finding a new job. The bills wouldn’t pay themselves, and I didn’t have a sugar daddy in my back pocket. Stepping in the foyer, I kicked off my Jimmy Choos (I had a weakness for shoes and would rather not eat than go without my favorite shoes), and dug my toes into the thick, cream, shag carpet as I hung my coat in the front closet. I’ll have to cut back on the shoe shopping now that I am unemployed, I thought to myself. That was going to be more difficult than anything. A girl had to have her priorities.

  Since graduating from college, I had toiled away at McLaughlin Industries; at what I thought for the last seven years was really my dream job. Since I was young, I had a vision of being a high-profile executive, with assistants at my every disposal. I saw myself on the cover of Fortune magazine and Business Week, in a
red power suit, maybe a Chanel. The article would describe me as someone who broke through the glass ceiling and could play with the big boys. I worked my way up to Senior Human Resource Manager, which, in seven years, was pretty good, considering that I started out as someone’s assistant. It was, emphasis on was, a position I thoroughly enjoyed. Though looking at recent events, maybe I had been fooling myself. I just threw away years of hard work and job security and wasn’t very upset. Shouldn’t that be telling me something?

  My lofty visions of being the first female CEO of McLaughlin Industries had started to fade a while ago. I kept at it because it was still a lucrative job and because I didn’t know what else to do. I worked countless hours and put up with abuse from top management, mostly David, thinking it would get me to the next level—and for what? Frankly, I had focused on the same goal for so long I wasn’t sure how to change it; I was stuck in a rut. I kept working hard, the way I had been raised to do, thinking it was the right thing to do. Now it was changed for me, and surprisingly, it felt like a weight had been lifted. Even if it was still truly my dream to be a top executive, I wasn’t going to sleep with anyone to get ahead. Not if it meant sleeping with David Ritter, the current CEO. I did have standards. Now if David Ritter looked like Brad Pitt, well, then things might have been different. That wouldn’t have been such a hardship—more of a win-win situation. People always complained about women who used sex to get ahead, but my motto was Use what you got. Sort of.

  Unemployed or not, I was lucky. I wasn’t completely without options. One of my friends sold Mary Kay and had been after me for months to become a representative. She was trying to meet a quota to earn a car and kept telling me how easy it was to get women to buy things to make them look better. Another friend of mine was a restaurant manager and would probably take pity on me and give me a job, even though he knew perfectly well I was a klutz and that having me as a server would lose him more customers than he’d gain. While both were interesting propositions, somehow I couldn’t really see myself aspiring to drive a pink Cadillac or wait tables.