Once Upon a Holiday

by Beverly Jenkins

  Montel Starks lifted his head and strolled into the office dressed in a sharp slate gray suit that fitted his model-size six-three frame to an absolutely perfect tee. The man effortlessly oozed suave sophistication. Heads swirled, hearts fluttered and panties grew moist as he glided past the company’s supermajority female staff. There was something for everyone. Whether you liked a broad chest, powerful legs or a sexy ass, Montel had you covered. Without a doubt, he put the “h” in handsome and the “s” in sexy. With his chiseled jaw line, Tyson Beckford eyes and LL Cool J lips framed in a shadowy beard, Montel was the very definition of fine.

  “Morning, ladies,” Montel greeted.

  “Morning, Montel,” the women chorused back, cheesing their best smile.

  His beautiful lips lifted a bit to reveal a white smile that lit up his entire face. He even tossed a wink to a few lucky women who looked ready to swoon out of their chairs. In Nu4us, Montel Starks was, hands down, a bona fide rock star, and the female employees were his number one fans.

  “Don’t you look lovely this morning, Georgine,” he said, stopping in front of his assistant’s desk. “New outfit?”

  Georgine blushed and fluttered a hand to the top of her sweater. “What? This old thing?” Her gaze caught the price tag hanging from her wrist, and she quickly dropped her hand to her lap. “Um, Mr. Carter scheduled a meeting this morning at ten so I took the liberty of rearranging your nine-thirty for three o’clock.”

  “I’m sure Ms. Baxter was thrilled about that,” he joked.

  Georgine turned up her nose. She couldn’t stand the über-rich femme fatale who tied up her phone line at least six times a day. “Mrs. Baxter threw her usual fit because she can’t see you when she wants. But I told her to either take the three o’clock or wait until after the Christmas holidays. Needless to say she took the three o’clock opening.” Georgine discreetly pulled the tag off her sleeve and then handed him his morning messages. “If you ask me, Mrs. Baxter is interested in more than just business.”

  Montel’s smile stretched wider. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He winked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Any idea what the ten o’clock meeting is about?” He absently shuffled his morning messages around, trying to pretend that he wasn’t anxious to hear who made top sales executive of the year and would most likely get the promotion to VP of sales.

  “Well, it is that time of year,” Georgine said, seeing through his act. “It could be the big announcement.”

  He winked and then glanced around the office. “Any word how our main competition has fared yet?”

  “Not yet. That camp is keeping their cards close to the vest…but if you ask me—” She leaned forward and whispered, “I think you’re finally going to knock Lahane off the throne.”

  Montel shrugged even though his smile grew wider. “I don’t know. Lahane has been number one for the past seven years.”

  “Yeah. But that was before you joined the company. Now there’s some real competition and frankly my money is riding on you.”

  “Don’t tell me there’s a pool on this.”

  “Are you kidding? There’s a pool on everything in this office.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He laughed. “But for the record, I wouldn’t be so quick to count Lahane out. The woman is a tiger.”

  Candace Lahane breezed through the doors of Nu4us looking like a million bucks in a pleated, houndstooth Victoria coat, large Gucci shades and a pair of Christian Louboutins that hadn’t hit the shelves yet. It had long been her philosophy to be number one in both business and style.

  “Good morning, Ms. Lahane,” Wendi, the front desk receptionist, greeted her with a timid smile and a half nod.

  Candace ignored the woman and continued with the conversation that was buzzing in her Bluetooth. “No. Mr. Scarborough, I’m all over it. I’ll have my assistant, Mia, send those proposals over to you within the hour by courier. Trust me, you’re going to be thrilled with the final product.” She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. Just before the door closed, a team of men in blue suits crowded in behind her. “Good Morning, Ms. Lahane,” they greeted her in synchronized precision.

  She pressed the mute button on her Bluetooth and flashed them all her expensive smile. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said in her best feminine purr.

  Each one of them beamed smiles back at her like eager puppies, starving for her attention. She enjoyed her power over the opposite sex. It was an art form that she’d spent years perfecting and putting to good use her entire career. And why not? If men insisted on thinking with the wrong head, why not use it to one’s advantage?

  The elevator’s bell dinged a second before the door slid open. “You fellas have a good day,” she said sweetly and then sauntered out of the small compartment with a little extra swing to her hips.

  “You too, Ms. Lahane.”

  Candace caught the few eye rolls and head shaking from a few dozen women in their cubicles. Haters—and hypocrites—each and every one of them. She’d seen how they all fawned and swooned over that self-absorbed, conceited playboy Montel Starks. They, along with half his client list, made fools of themselves hanging on his every word and blushing like know-nothing teenagers whenever he dropped platitudes or phony compliments. She, on the other hand, saw straight through him whenever he turned his so-called charm on her. The eye-winking, the slow, deliberate way he licked his lips or how he would purposely invade a woman’s personal space so that his masculine-scented cologne permeated your senses so that he could try and seduce his way into whatever he wanted.

  She knew that playbook.

  Hell, she wrote it.

  “Morning, Mia,” she said, breezing past her desk. “Call the courier. I need you to send that final proposal over to Mr. Scarborough’s office pronto.” She tapped her earpiece. “Mr. Scarborough? Yes. I’ve arranged everything. We can reconnect in one hour.”

  “You’re the best,” Scarborough said.

  “That’s what you’re paying for,” she volleyed back and then disconnected the call.

  Behind her, Mia marched in with a smile and Candace’s morning order of a tall half-skinny, half-one percent, extra hot split quad shot—two shots espresso, two shots regular latte with whipped cream. “Here you go. I already called the courier service when I first came in this morning. They should be here any minute now.”

  “Great.” Candace whipped off her shades, sat her briefcase down and peeled out of her coat before accepting her latte. “Have we tracked down Walter Anderson yet?”

  “Still on it.” Mia grimaced. “I swear that the man is worse than Carmen Santiago.”

  “That may be, but we need to find him. Landing an account with his company—any account will be like a cherry on top for that VP position.” Candace took her first sip of coffee and sighed as her morning caffeine fix immediately started to settle her nerves.

  “Speaking of which,” Mia said. “I had to rearrange your calendar today. Mr. Carter called a ten o’clock meeting.”

  Candace’s mind raced. “Any clue what it’s about?”

  “None.” Mia glanced over her shoulder to double-check that they were alone in Candace’s posh corner office and still elected to lower her voice. “I did hear some speculation in the break room that Mr. Carter has made a decision on the VP position and he wants to announce it early before the Christmas break.”

  “Really?” Candace leaned back in her executive leather chair with a sly grin. “Have you crunched our numbers?”

  Mia looked downright giddy. “1.8 billion. Five percent higher than last year’s total. We’re a shoe-in.”

  Despite the good news, Candace shook her head. “Don’t count our chickens before they’re hatched. Any clue how he’s doin’?” She didn’t say his name because she’d made it a rule never to utter that slick devil’s name in her office, the one who had all the women in the office losing their minds.

  Mr. Hot Shot. Mr. Know-
It-All. And Mr. Pain-in-the-Ass. Well, at least in Candace’s ass. From the moment he’d walked through the doors of Nu4us, it seemed that everyone at the company could talk of little else. In a way, it was sort of understandable. In his short time at the company, he’d completely shaken up the game. Landing and closing big advertising accounts with what seemed like little or no effort at all. Now he was nipping at her heels and threatening everything she’d worked for.

  After seven years of being on top at Nu4us, the VP position should’ve been a no-brainer. Instead, Mr. Carter, who’d seemed just as hoodwinked as his female employees, spent boys night out at ball games, cigar bars and gentlemen clubs with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the regular.

  “I don’t have any solid number,” Mia said. “But I know that sneaky assistant of his has been nosing around lately trying to find out our numbers.”

  “Oh, really?” Candace took another healthy gulp of her coffee. “That means that he thinks he actually has a shot of winning this.” She shook her head. “Bastard.”

  A knock had both women jerking their head toward the open door. A young lanky-framed brother removed the earplugs to his iPod from his ears. “I’m here to pick up a package?”

  “Right.” Mia strolled out of the office to retrieve the package for Scarborough, leaving Candace to churn this latest information inside her head and, more importantly, to try to guess what was going on in Montel Stark’s head, because in the end only one of them could be on top.

  Chapter 2

  Montel strolled into the conference room along with a few other ad executives. All of them slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his presumed promotion.

  “Man, you got this in the bank,” Doug, a fifteen-year employee, boasted. “Believe me when I say that you’re our hero.”

  A murmur of agreement encircled Montel as a few more pounds hit his back.

  Montel held up his hands and tried to feign humility, but in truth his ego was swelling so much it could barely fit into the room. His history with Lahane wasn’t as long or as aggressive as his colleagues, but she definitely brought out his competitive side like no other.

  Before meeting and, consequently, bumping heads with the woman whose whispered nickname was Hard Candy, Montel had always thought that women who looked like Lahane got their money from either posing in front of a camera or by hooking their claws into aging billionaires during their annual trophy-wife hunt. Sure, it was a bit sexist, and maybe he shouldn’t have told her that at a cocktail party, but that had always been his experience.

  Frankly, nothing in his life had prepared him for meeting a woman like Lahane. The Harvard grad was quite possibly the smartest person he’d ever met. He’d witnessed on several occasions her ability to talk about virtually any subject and recall facts and figures off the top of her head. And except for the guys she squashed in competition, men absolutely adored her.

  With good reason.

  He and Candy had a secret. They had actually met two years before he came to work for Nu4us—in Bora-Bora, in fact. He’d never forget her itsy-bitsy silver dress that had had him thinking about putting a ring on it.

  Gerald, a short, thick-waisted brother who’d had the misfortune of coming in a distant second in sales for the past seven years, puffed out his chest and added his gruff two cents into the mix. “I plan to snap a picture on my iPhone and make Christmas cards when Carter makes the announcement.”

  The guys laughed.

  Gerald continued, “It’s time that bitch was knocked off her high horse and Montel is just the man to do it.”

  The crowd laughed. Montel frowned.

  It was unfortunate that Candace chose that moment to prop up against the conference room’s door. “Think so, Gerald?”

  The group of gossiping men jumped and swiveled their necks toward the door. The festive celebratory atmosphere evaporated despite the fact that Candace was smiling. “Sounds to me like you boys can’t handle a woman playing in your little sandboxes.” Her eyes swept toward Montel. “Pity.”

  Montel started to clarify that Gerald wasn’t speaking for him, but then Mr. Carter waltzed up behind Candace.

  “Good morning, gentlemen…and Ms. Lahane.”

  Candace tilted her head and then entered the conference room with her head high and her hips swinging. Angry or not, every eye followed her as she made her way to the other end of the long conference table.

  Montel’s gaze roamed from her hips to her perfectly round ass that had a nice jiggle when she walked. He sucked in a quiet breath and even mouthed, “Goddamn” before she sat down. The hard-on he’d had from the moment he’d laid eyes on her stretched a few more inches and challenged the seams of his pants. It must’ve been true for all of them because he and the rest of his colleagues scrambled for chairs before their dicks saluted her—including Mr. Carter.

  “Looks like we’re all here,” Mr. Carter said, straightening his tie and clearing his throat. “How is everyone doing this morning?”

  Everyone responded with an out of sync chorus of “good” and “fine.”

  “Great.” Carter plopped open a leather folder. “Well, I’m only going to take a few minutes of your time. We usually announce our top ad executive around this time every year. And as you also know, Sloan McAvoy will be leaving at the end of the year, so I’d decided that this year’s top executive will be assuming his position.”

  A lot of head-bobbing and sideward glances followed Carter’s opening statement. Candace calmly drew a deep breath and folded her arms under her breasts. The injustice of this position being awarded on the basis of just this year’s performance pricked her skin. It seemed to her a seven-year proven track record would have been the way to go, but whatever.

  “The accounting department crunched the numbers—several times—and to my great surprise we have a first,” Carter said, clapping his hands together.

  “A first what?” Candace asked, not sure that she was following him.

  Carter’s face lit up. “Our first tie.”

  Candace and Montel leaned forward and blinked stupidly at him. “A tie?”

  “Amazing, isn’t it? Both Candace Lahane and our new guy, Montel Stark, had generated 1.8 billion in ad revenue for the company. Absolutely amazing in this economy.” He led everyone into a round of applause, but a current of disbelief rippled around the table as well.

  Montel and Candace’s gazes flew to one another. Neither of them looked as if they were ready to swallow that bitter pill. In fact, Candace’s hands itched to wrap around the smug bastard’s neck and squeeze it until he passed out or someone called the cops.

  “So what exactly does that mean?” Candace asked, returning her attention to the head of the table. She hoped to hell that he wasn’t about to suggest that she and Montel share the VP position. That would just lead to the next world war.

  “It means that we’re going to have sort of a face-off,” Carter announced proudly. “Between you and Montel here.”

  Montel looked skeptical. “I’m not following you.”

  Carter continued to look proud about this scheme he was cooking up. “We usually run these from November to November. But given the stakes I’m going to a one-month only competition between the two of you. So whichever one of you lands the biggest account in December will win the salesperson of the year and land the VP position.”

  Whatever smile Candace had sported when she’d walked into the conference room was definitely gone by the time she rushed out.

  “This is some bullshit!” she declared, breezing past Mia and storming into her office.

  Mia grabbed her notepad, jumped out of her seat and followed her boss into her office. “How did it go?”

  “Close the door.”

  Mia doubled back and closed the office door. “Was it that bad? Did Mon—”

  “Don’t!”

  “I mean…did he beat us?” she fretted.

  “No.” Candace dropped into her chair and drew in several deep breaths, but it reall
y wasn’t helping. Maybe if she pinched herself hard enough, she’d wake up from this nightmare. Desperate, she actually grabbed the back of her left hand and pinched. “Ow.”

  Mia frowned and stepped back. “Are you all right? Do I need to call someone for you?”

  “No. But I could really use a drink.”

  “It’s not even noon yet.”

  “So? Who made up that bullshit rule?”

  Mia eased into one of the vacant chairs across from her desk. “Maybe you should just tell me what happened.”

  “That man is what happened,” she exploded. “The good ole boy system is alive and well on Madison Avenue. Every one of those assholes knows that I deserve that VP position. But they keep inventing new ways to move that damn goal post farther and farther away from me.”

  “Wait. You won the best sales, but they still gave it to Mon—”

  “Ah. Ah. Ah.” Candace waved her finger back and forth. “Don’t you dare say that man’s name!”

  “Sorry.”

  “They didn’t give either one of us the position…yet.” Candace couldn’t stand sitting anymore so she hopped up from her chair and started pacing back and forth in from of the window. “I have the good mind to quit.”

  “What?”

  “Start my own agency. Yeah. Hell, my clients love me. They’ll follow me wherever I go.” That last part was spoken with a little less conviction. There was never any such guarantee in this business. Over the years she had witnessed many friends and colleagues take that leap of faith only to crash and burn in the brave world of start-up ad boutiques. The truth of the matter was that a small anything was usually swallowed up by a bigger fish.

  “Ms. Lahane, I’m still confused about what’s going on,” Mia said.

  “It’s a tie,” Candace said, rolling her eyes. “Can you believe it?”

  “A tie?”

  Candace quickly gave her assistant a recap of her morning meeting and then felt herself get all heated again. “You know, I should just let them go ahead and give it to that asshole. That’s what they want to do anyway. I mean…what am I supposed to do in December? It’s our weakest month as far as snagging new accounts. All the bigwigs are going to be God knows where during the holidays.”