Mailroom Delight

by Khardine Gray

  Mailroom Delight

  Khardine Gray

  Bliss Romance

  Contents

  Books by Khardine Gray

  Happiness is…

  Author Note

  What the hell did I do…

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Rules of Attraction Taster

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Mailroom Delight

  by Khardine Gray

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design © 2018 by Erin Dameron-Hill

  This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  The author asserts that all characters and situations depicted in this work of fiction are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations.

  It is intended for mature readers. All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Books by Khardine Gray

  Falling For Him

  Books by Khardine Gray

  Falling For Him

  Never and Always

  I Love You again

  One Wild Night

  Shape of My Heart

  Hearts Entwined

  Complete Me

  I Only Have Eyes For You

  The Objection to Affection

  Vandervilles Series

  Book 1- When Beauty Met the Beast

  Book 2- Secrets and Lies

  Book 3- Into the Rabbit Hole

  To check out these titles please visit

  https://www.amazon.com/author/khardinegraynovels

  Happiness is…

  “The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it's all that matters.”

  ― Audrey Hepburn

  Author Note

  Hello Gorgeous,

  Mailroom Delight is a short super-hot, super steamy read that I hope you’ll enjoy.

  Beware you may need ice.

  Enjoy xx

  What the hell did I do…

  Dear Jason,

  Thank you for your emails. It sounds like you need to get laid, or possibly have a sex marathon.

  Today’s modern woman doesn’t need to be put in a category to serve men, and I’m sorry if you think my advice lacks heart-warmth, or whatever it was you said. It is what it is.

  Now maybe you should take a lesson or two from me. It could spice up your love life in the most unimaginable ways. Imagine being with a woman who will rock your world. It’s the difference between a $2 hook up and a mind-blowing experience.

  I will gladly show you what I mean, so call me if you need clarification on any of the matters discussed. I look forward to meeting you.

  ~Paige

  That was the letter I sent my boss when he suggested my advice column needed more heart.

  That, was the letter he wasn’t supposed to get…

  Jesus Christ, I was drunk. Wasted, off my face drunk.

  I didn’t know how in the hell I managed to get myself in these sorts of crazy situations.

  And… I didn’t know that letter would open up my own personal Pandora’s box, where my heart was in for the ride of its’ life…

  Chapter 1

  Paige

  I giggled as I looked over the wad of paper in my hands. It had come from a bunch of emails the new boss had sent me.

  His suggestions were so ridiculous I had to print them off to show Bernice, and maybe I secretly wanted to keep them to show others.

  Apparently, my advice column needed to have more “heart”.

  Right, that was really funny since I was the Queen of Hearts.

  The Queen of Romance.

  I was Ask Paige. Portrait Magazine’s relationship advice columnist.

  I’d won several Reader’s Choice Awards and several other awards I couldn’t think of because the wine was starting to make my head spin.

  But yet, this man…

  I glanced at the top of the email again to get his name.

  Jason Dempsey. My new boss— the new owner of Portrait.

  He wanted me to have more heart. That was at the top of the list of suggestions he had for my advice column. The same advice column that had made this magazine millions.

  There were ten pages of emails with his lists of suggested things I needed to change.

  I hadn’t met him yet. I’d been avoiding his requests for meetings to discuss my column, so instead of waiting for me, he’d emailed.

  “My soul is on fire,” Bernice held up the bottle of wine. “Feels like I have bugs in my eyes, and they’re buzzing around not making sense.”

  I laughed as she tipped her head back and downed the rest.

  “You’re wasted.” I laughed even more when she brought her hand to her head and shook it, sending her dark locks all over the place.

  She looked a mess, but I knew I did too.

  We could be so bad sometimes. I knew we could have scheduled tonight’s drinking some place more appropriate. A bar, at either of our homes – mine might have been better because I had room for her to stay over – or heck we could have even gone to my office.

  Instead we’d come down here, to the mailroom. Bernice worked down here. She managed the team of workers who took care of the mail, but most of all she was the last person to sign off on all the proofs for the magazine on Wednesdays. She’d do that just before the final versions of Portrait went out to the printers to be prepped and ready every Friday for release.

  “I can’t believe this damn man.” I frowned as I scanned over the emails once more, flicking through each one. “More heart? Me? More heart?” That was the accusation that got to me the most.

  “I think I might agree, just an itty bitty, bit.” She made a show of making a small circle with her thumb and index finger.

  “You agree with him?” I wrinkled my nose at her. How dare she? She was supposed to be on my side. “You don’t think I have heart?”

  I looked at her, eager to hear what she had to say. There was no way Bernice could agree I had no heart.

  “I do. It’s just how you express yourself. It’s like a donkey telling a chicken to mate with a pig.”

  I burst out laughing.

  What in the hell was that supposed to mean?

  “Please, clarify.”

  “I’m drunk. I.” She hiccupped. “I cccan’t.”

  We both stopped laughing and stared at each other in awe before we started giggling again, then burst into fits of laughter. I drank the rest of the wine in my glass. I was drunk, too. There was no point denying it, and no point letting a perfectly good glass of Pinot Noir go to waste.

  We didn’t usually do this on a work night. It was only Wednesd
ay.

  I had brought the wine to cheer Bernice up today because she needed it. Yesterday, she found out her ex-boyfriend, Cody, was getting married.

  She loved him, and thought they’d be the one’s walking down the aisle this summer. But no, instead they’d broken up six months ago.

  She was just starting to get over him when the news came. I watched it put her right back at the place she was months ago when she was trying her best to get over him.

  I knew the loss of love all too well, but my story was slightly different, and one I didn’t want to think about right now. Especially when I was being accused of being heartless.

  “But, at least you’re drunk, and not crying like yesterday.” I meant to say that a little better.

  “Thank you, Miss ‘I have heart’. That was a little heartless.” She pouted at me. pushing out her full red lips.

  “I’m sorry. It’s the drink. I meant you’ll live. Forget Cody. You can and will do better. I know it.” I nodded. It was true.

  Bernice was beautiful with her golden skin and long, curly black hair. All the women in her family were; they had that exotic beauty most Latina women had. Her family came from Brazil, she had all kinds of beauty encasing her.

  I wasn’t jealous. I knew I could hold my own, but there was something to be said about people who looked unique and had the kind of presence that made you want to stare.

  That was Bernice. I was certain she would be fine.

  “Thank you. I needed that, and that was heart. Maybe that’s what our Jason means.”

  “Oh shit, you are agreeing with him.” I snapped grimacing.

  “Just a little. A small bitty bit,” she pointed out doing that circle thing with her fingers again. “I’m just saying that maybe you could take a little bit of his advice. He is our boss after all.”

  “So what? That’s never been a problem. I do what feels like me. He’s trying to change that part of me.”

  She sighed and gave me a pensive look.

  I’d never had to worry about that in the five years I’d worked at Portrait. I started my internship here straight out of Harvard and was so good they’d kept me. That was what?

  Six years now. I came here at the young age of twenty-four. I was full of life and zeal, ready to go change the world.

  I was going to be thirty at the end of the year and had to say I’d never expected to accomplish all the things I had.

  Even Bernice had to acknowledge that. We met here. She was an intern, too, but diverged to the management side of things, after deciding she preferred it to trying to secure an editorial position.

  She’d seen me throw myself into hard work and knew I wouldn’t have to worry about impressing anyone.

  Least of all this guy.

  He seemed to me to be one of those people who tried to spoil a good thing, just so they could make their own mark.

  He only had this company because our beloved Elizabeth had retired. She’d made her millions on the magazine and decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life travelling the world with her husband, and spending time with her family.

  I heard she sold it cheap too, which was a shame since it attracted someone like this guy, who wanted to change it all up.

  I’d heard a few complaints here and there, but it seemed like he wanted to make the biggest changes to me.

  It was absurd, and I just couldn’t believe the ridiculousness, and preposterousneity. God was that even a word?

  Preposterous.

  That’s what I meant.

  Yup, I was too drunk. Which meant I needed to grab a taxi home.

  Shit.

  I really didn’t want to leave my car here. I loved coming in and going home in my car, taxis just threw me off balance.

  “You know what? Screw it. You’re right. And I want more wine.” She moved to the table where I’d placed the second bottle and brought it over with a packet of Cheetos.

  I giggled at her trying to walk in a straight line and failing miserably.

  “Did you respond to the last email?” She sat back down and popped the cork off the bottle.

  “No. I haven’t. He keeps asking to meet with me.”

  “You haven’t met him yet?” She looked at me, her eyes wide.

  “Nope, and I don’t want to.”

  “You’re going to have a hard time avoiding him.” She laughed as she poured herself a glass.

  I inhaled the sweet smell that wafted from it and I knew I shouldn’t have anymore. But fuck it, I needed more. Another glass, or two. I hated when people criticized me. Especially when I was doing a good job.

  I knew heart-warmth, and emotion were great, but they could also be a curse. I knew that all too well, and it was now my daily curse that probably –if I’m honest, and I am – resonates in my advice.

  Today’s modern woman couldn’t afford to wear her heart on her sleeve. She would get taken advantage of. Simple. There was no way around it.

  Unfortunately, a good eighty percent of guys were dogs. Okay, maybe I’d lower that to seventy-five and a half. And, I knew I may sound like I was an expert and on the receiving end of a lot of break ups, but the truth was I wasn’t.

  I’d been burnt by love, but in a way that made me see truth. It opened my eyes to what I had and how precious it was. That it was hard to find, and I was lucky to have had it.

  Luck.

  That was what I thought it had come down to. Or, maybe God just leant me one of his angels.

  Paul.

  I closed my eyes to relieve the stinging sensation that gripped them at the memory of him. When I opened my eyes again I reached for the bottle Bernice had placed near me and poured wine into my glass until it reached the brim.

  This whole thing. The emails, the criticism, and poor Bernice, was making me think of Paul.

  I couldn’t think about him now. Not now. Later perhaps, like I usually did, but not now.

  He tended to surface in my waking thoughts when I was depressed or annoyed. On this occasion I was going to trade depressed for angry.

  “What are you going to do?” Bernice slurred. “Chica, you can’t hide forever?”

  “Forget me, this meet up was for you.” I pointed to her. “The emails were for a laugh.”

  She flicked her wrist at me. “I have to get over Cody. It’s simple. Good thing my best friend is Ask Paige. I can ask for your advice any old time.”

  “My advice is to find the next guy who will rock your world. Forget Cody, there are absolutely more fish in the sea.”

  “Hey, I think I deserve a little more of Ask Paige right now. Give me the kind of juice you’d give if I wrote in. Let’s pretend.” Her eyes flickered with mischief. She knew the kind of advice I gave, and yes, I knew exactly what to say. Even in my drunken state.

  “Don’t even bother to waste time on that loser, Cody. Grab your next guy tonight. And not just any old guy.” I beamed at her and grabbed the ends of my ponytail. The dark ends curled around my thumb as I twisted it. “Get the hottest guy. Go to the wine bar on Main. The one all the finest men go to, and when you see him make sure he sees you. You got this, I know you do. Strike up a conversation and go to a five star hotel. Then have wild sex until you can’t even remember who Cody is.”

  Bernice looked at me with her lips slightly agape. She fluttered her eyelashes and then started fanning herself with her hand.

  “Fuck, you are good. I actually believe I can do that.”

  Again, even in my current state I knew I instilled confidence in women. Even the ones who’d felt completely scorned by men who had cheated on them, lied to them, gave them false hope.

  I was the Cosmopolitan Queen, and none of that fucking crap about heart-warmth was going to get to me.

  I grabbed a sheet from the email print out I’d set down on the desk before me and a pen from the ceramic holder.

  I knew exactly what I was going to write back to our new boss.

  After the first email he sent me last week I conjured up this weird
image of him, as to what he looked like.

  I saw someone who looked like Colonel Sanders but wearing a robe like a shepherd would. Someone who was very sort of nineteen-fifties who said things like swell, and good golly. Like in that movie Pleasantville.

  I was about to give his Pleasantville-ass a rude awakening.

  “What are you doing?” Bernice poured some more wine.

  “Responding to his majesty, Colonel Sanders.”

  “Paige, you kill me. He doesn’t look like Colonel Sanders.” Bernice was laughing so hard she could barely speak.

  “Leave me alone. If he looks like Colonel Sanders in my head, then that is what he looks like.”

  She continued to laugh.

  I wrote the following straight from my heart.

  Dear Jason,

  Thank you for your emails. It sounds like you need to get laid, or possibly have a sex marathon.

  Today’s modern woman doesn’t need to be put in a category to serve men, and I’m sorry if you think my advice lacks heart-warmth, or whatever it was you said. It is what it is.

  Now maybe you should take a lesson or two from me. It could spice up your love life in the most unimaginable ways. Imagine being with a woman who will rock your world. It’s the difference between a $2 hook up and a mind-blowing experience.

  I will gladly show you what I mean, so call me if you need clarification on any of the matters discussed. I look forward to meeting you.

  ~Paige