by Calista Fox
A month later…
“This is going to be a great movie night,” Maxi announced, as she flopped onto the sofa in her living room.
Ryan had cooked—just one more thing he was ridiculously proficient at. And one more thing that she adored and admired about him, because he was all about offering foot massages at the end of the day while she sipped a glass of wine and something incredibly aromatic roasted in the oven or simmered on the stovetop.
“What’s tonight’s selection?” he asked, as he set out a charcuterie board on the coffee table and then joined her.
Maxi would never have known that that was the French equivalent of an antipasto platter had she not met Einstein. He’d taught her numerous things.
“When Harry Met Sally…,” she told him. “I figured it was high time you watched this flick, and it’ll make for interesting conjectures afterward.”
Because she love, love, loved engaging in his stimulating conversation. Even when most of it still went over her head. The really fun part was finding sexy ways to prove her own points. Generally involving actions that stimulated more than his brain.
He settled in and pulled her to him, so that she was tucked under his arm, her head on his chest, his arm draped around her shoulders.
The production crisis at Staci Kay Shoes had passed, and things were a bit calmer in the workplace, so that they could spend most of their evenings together, either at Maxi’s condo or Ryan’s Colonial. He’d begun hinting at consolidating households. The notion made her toes curl in her stilettos, but Maxi was taking things one step at a time. What they shared was perfect in her mind, and she didn’t want to rush it or mess this up.
Because she was deeply, madly, passionately in love.
Maxi had finally cut loose of the users—and had found her ruggedly handsome knight in shining armor.
Also by Calista Fox
What Lola Wants
When Staci Takes Charge
About the Author
Calista is a former PR professional, now writing fast-paced, steamy books to set your pulse racing! Her publishing houses include St. Martin’s Press, Grand Central Publishing, and Harlequin. She is an Amazon bestseller and has won many Reviewer’s and Reader’s Choice Awards, as well as Best Book Awards and other competitions with publication as first prize. Calista is a college graduate and teaches online writing classes. She is also a Past President/Advisor and four-time Board member of the Phoenix chapter of the Romance Writers of America national organization. Visit her at: www.calistafox.com or via social media at www.facebook.com/calistafox and www.twitter.com/calistafoxbooks.
Please see the next page for a preview of WHEN STACI TAKES CHARGE by Calista Fox.
Chapter One
“Before we wrap up this week’s strategic planning session,” Staci Kay announced to the vice presidents of her burgeoning shoe empire, Staci Kay Shoes, “let’s revisit the need to locate a larger facility for our manufacturing, packaging, and distribution functions, since we only have our secondary building on a temporary basis. We’re several weeks into a six-month lease of the additional warehouse. I don’t want us to be scrambling in the eleventh hour, searching for a new home to accommodate the overflow from these crucial operational areas.”
Amping up production was a vital undertaking for the company. A tense one as well, given the sudden scarcity of commercial real estate in Baltimore to fit the needs of the increased manufacturing output.
Despite that, Staci brimmed with excitement as she added, “As you all know, we’re rolling out the new line of six-inch heels on Monday—just in time for Valentine’s Day—and Sales predicts a mad rush from our customers to snatch up that perfect, sexy pair of shoes to complement date-night outfits. But beyond Valentine’s Day, the demand for these skyscraping heels”—she paused and modeled her six-inch, navy-blue suede shoes—“will result in another surge in sales. We need to be prepared now and for the future. Staci Kay Shoes are becoming a household name, people. With lightning-quick speed.”
Her VPs all clapped enthusiastically. Staci beamed brightly.
Maxi Shayne, her Vice President of Operations—whom Staci hoped would eventually agree to become the company’s chief operating officer—stepped in and said, “When it comes to locating an appropriate facility for us, think in the same terms Staci did when we were in crisis mode and had to find a supplemental building in which to operate ASAP.”
“Absolutely,” Staci concurred. “Tap those golden databases of yours. Contact friends, relatives, friends of friends, relatives of relatives, anybody and everybody to see what might be coming on the market that we can buy or rent. We’re not seeing enough opportunity through public sales avenues right now, so we need to know who’s holding out for a private sale.”
Maxi nodded. “We’ll take every lead we can get so that we don’t end up with a production bottleneck down the road, unable to meet escalation in customer demand, thanks to our fabulous marketing efforts and this new line of shoes—having nowhere to store the additional orders and no base from which to ship them.”
“Our need for another facility is just one more thing that solidifies our growth and sustainability in this industry,” Staci said. “I thank each and every one of you for all that you’re doing to build our brand and our operations. Have a great weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”
Staci adjourned the meeting, and the group dispersed. Maxi collected the leftover packets of documentation, which contained charts and graphs her director, Ryan Donovan, PhD, had assembled. Staci closed her notebook and capped her pen as Maxi kicked off her heels and plopped into a chair.
“Another productive session,” Staci said, thrilled—and deeply relieved—that everything was back on track for the company. Staci Kay Shoes had encountered a serious derailment when Ryan had discovered that the production staff was functioning at only forty-two percent capability at the same time sales had shot through the roof because of the sexy new ad campaign.
Staci had lost many a night’s sleep worrying over how to rectify the deficiency—particularly within a short period of time before manufacturing came to a grinding halt and her business collapsed.
Now they were primed to unveil the new designs. Yet it was still critical to keep an eye on future projections to make sure the company didn’t lose momentum or run into the same production problems they’d just experienced.
Maxi said, “I wish like hell I knew of someone looking to lease or unload a building suitable for our needs.” She crossed her long legs, rotating her ankle as though it ached.
“Something will turn up.” Staci observed the dark-haired, blue-eyed executive, fashionably dressed in a chic red suit—the perfect color for Maxi. She frowned as Maxi continued to work the kinks in her ankle. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. In fact, you were limping just a tiny bit earlier.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Maxi assured her.
“Yeah, right. Spill already,” Staci ordered.
They were more than just CEO and VP—they were close friends. Maxi had been one of Staci’s first employees when she’d started operations six years ago. They’d been sorority sisters and cheerleaders at the University of Baltimore. Staci was two years older than Maxi, who had joined the start-up company in between her sophomore and junior terms.
Staci had studied fashion design, and she loved everything bold and daring, be it contemporary flare, avant-garde chic, retro panache, or vintage fun.
Her statement accessory was her long, sleek, shiny, dark-auburn hair, which complemented her tawny eyes. But, hands down, her trademark was shoes. Every style, every color, every pattern. It was her main vice and guilty pleasure rolled into one.
“Come on, Maxi. This is me you’re talking to.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” Maxi explained. “Just that we’ve all been nonstop action since this crisis hit, and I’ve recently realized that I’m not used to working fourteen- to sixteen-hour days in six-inch heels.”
“That�
�s completely understandable. However,” Staci said with a pointed look, “we do have a line of gorgeous flats to choose from.”
“I know.” Maxi smirked. “But I’m a tall-heel girl, like you. Preferably the stilettos. I like the additional altitude they give me. Not to mention the fact they drive Ryan nuts in the absolute best way, so…” She shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m perfectly fine sucking it up.”
“Maxi,” Staci gently scolded her. “Loving the shoes is no reason to be in pain all day.”
“Ah, but Stace…” she said on a dreamy sigh. “Ryan gives me foot massages at night that are pretty much to die for. He might stop offering if I begin wearing sensible flats.”
Staci laughed softly. “You will do anything to get that man’s hands on your body.”
“You’ve got that right, sister.”
“Still…” The corner of Staci’s mouth dipped again. “This is a serious consideration.”
“Kev the evil ex used to say beauty is pain. My motto is that he was the real pain in my life.”
“So glad you came to your senses with that one. Total asshole.”
“Lying, cheating asshole,” Maxi corrected. “I certainly kissed my fair share of toads before I found the right man.”
Staci finally smiled. “You and Ryan are sensational together.”
“And not just here at work.” Maxi winked.
“Please, don’t remind me of what I’m not getting outside these walls. It’s been many moons since anyone has rubbed my feet…or any other sensitive part of my body.”
“Stace, you’ve been twenty-four-seven shoe crisis—you haven’t had time for anything else.”
“I don’t know,” she mused. “I’ve been pretty hard-core for six years, getting this entire organization up and running. Yet I always managed to find time for a little some-some on the side.” She wagged her brows. “Until recently. But what can I say about that, really? This is my dream, my true passion. I wasn’t finding the specific shoes I wanted for a reasonable price, so I invented Staci Kay Shoes and filled my own closet with every style imaginable.”
“Along with millions of other women’s closets,” Maxi said.
“We’re all kindred spirits.”
“Agreed. However,” Maxi countered, “now that the fires are out at work, perhaps you ought to think about reigniting them in your bedroom. You’ve never lacked for a hot and hunky man who’s desperate to do your bidding.”
“I will admit, I wouldn’t mind ringing one up who’s ready, willing, and able to sin,” she said in wistful tone. “But I still have too much business on the brain to shut it down and just…enjoy.”
Maxi stood and stretched. Slipped back into her heels. “Then come over to my condo tonight. Ryan’s making osso buco. There’s always plenty of food when he cooks. And there’s no reason for you to be home alone on a Friday night.”
“Jesus, you two are like newlyweds.”
“Don’t rush us down the aisle just yet,” Maxi chided. “We still have Lola’s wedding to get through. Now that her marketing campaign has fully launched, and we’re getting our operational issues under control, you and I need to plan her bridal shower and think about all that other girly-girl stuff that goes along with being maid of honor and bridesmaid.”
“It was really very sweet that she included me in the bridal party,” Staci said. “When she worked here in Baltimore with us, she always seemed a bit terrified of me. Then I showed up in the Scottsdale office for her ad campaign presentation and I thought she’d hit the floor, she was so shocked to see me.”
“She admires how fierce you are,” Maxi told her. “We all bow down to you, Goddess of Shoes. And you’re a sexy whip-cracker to boot. Do you really tie men to your bedposts?”
Staci’s brow jerked upward at the unexpected question so casually lobbed her way.
“That’s the rumor,” Maxi followed up with a little snicker. “How do you think Lola Vonn came up with her marketing pitch of a successful, lingerie-wearing woman whipping the big bad world of business and romance into shape?”
“Yeah, right,” Staci scoffed as she collected her things and stood. “Romance? You see a ring on my finger?” She held up her left hand and wiggled the fingers.
“Well, I did always assume that you weren’t into getting hitched. So many men, so little time…”
Staci knew she’d likely perpetuated that image because she had a stable full of single male friends and associates who willingly stepped in when she needed a man on her arm for a business or social function. But the truth was, she’d put her heart and soul into Staci Kay Shoes and it had left very little time for anything else, aside from promoting the company’s image and brand.
Not to mention, Staci had never sparked with a man in such a way that she would juggle some of her work obligations in order to spend the kind of time with him that could lead to a serious relationship.
Sure, there were plenty of her friends whom she found attractive. Ones she occasionally scratched the itch with. But no one who really lit her up enough to take a chance on.
So, yes…she was pretty much resigned to the single life.
“Thanks for the dinner offer,” she said, not wanting to dwell on the previous sentiment. Staci had her company, after all. And she found that extremely fulfilling.
“It’s always a standing one,” Maxi told her with a smile.
“I appreciate that. But I’ve got a lot to do here at the office this evening. Plus, I haven’t yet made my plans for Valentine’s Day—and it’s only two weeks away. Yikes! I need to get on it in order to make travel arrangements.”
“What are your options this year?”
“I’m torn. Visit my perfect sister who had a perfect mental breakdown when her perfect husband came out of the closet last Valentine’s—I’m still reeling from that drama, by the way—or join my parents on the Caribbean cruise they’ve already booked for themselves, and invited Jen and I along. Or just curl up in front of a fire and marathon-stream everything that’s currently hot on Netflix.”
Maxi shot her a wry look. “The latter is so not you. Come on, Stace. You’re not content unless you’re shaking things up. I say take the cruise. Teach those dance instructors on the Promenade Deck how to burn up the floorboards with a sassy salsa or a tantalizing tango.”
“Hmm, yes, that does sound tempting.”
“It’d be good for you. You love dancing, your parents are a riot, and let’s face it, you could use some fresh air, Miss Workaholic. Drag your sister on board with you. Jen could use a wild week at sea as well.”
Staci couldn’t disagree with any of that, but said, “We’ll have to see where we are, crisis-wise, next week before I make up my mind.” She was fearful of any walls crumbling that had just been rebuilt.
“Everything’s fine here, Stace. Go have some fun.”
She certainly needed some time off to relax and decompress. But Staci surmised the reason she couldn’t make any decisions in her personal life was that she was still caught up in all the hoopla around the office. This was her lifeblood, after all. She couldn’t take any risks with severing said lifeblood because she was off doing the mambo on the Love Boat.
Yet, she promised her friend, “I’ll put some thought into the cruise. Enjoy dinner and the weekend.”
Maxi hedged. “Don’t work too hard, okay? At the very least, call one of your boy-toys to come over for Sunday brunch—in bed.”
Staci laughed. “I’ll consider it.”
They parted ways near the elevator, Maxi taking the car down to her floor and Staci flashing her access card over the electronic reader and stepping through the tall glass doors of the executive wing.
Her spacious corner office boasted dark hardwood floors, retro chandeliers set on dimmers, and plush furniture in various artistic designs with sensuous curves. Her sofas were scarlet, the accent chairs a dark mustard, the toss pillows a collection of famous faces stamped on them in vibrant colors.
Bold artwork adorned the
walls, and several gorgeous floral arrangements sat on end tables, the coffee table, and the two credenzas—fresh bouquets she’d received from friends who congratulated her on the company’s incredible ad campaign, destined to launch Staci Kay Shoes into the stratosphere.
She crossed to her glass-topped desk with sleek, arching, brushed stainless-steel legs that crisscrossed on the sides, and sank into her large, red velvety chair. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of two abutting walls and featured the Baltimore skyline. It still being winter, the city lights already glowed as sunset faded into twilight and captured the gentle fall of fat snowflakes.
Staci removed her stilettos and dug her toes into the warm, thick, white-shag rug at her feet. She couldn’t help but fixate on Maxi’s comment about the side effects of spending all day in six-inch heels. Staci considered that she ought to take her own advice and wear flats at least half of the day while she was at the office.
But damn, she loved her high heels. Staci was five-six without them on, and that extra surge of height always made her feel a bit more commanding, and put her eye-to-eye with the men who worked for her and those she dealt with outside of the company.
In all honesty, though, she wasn’t above admitting that Staci Kay Shoes could be more comfortable. Possibly designed with some sort of improved, high-tech insole that massaged the foot all day or cushioned it in a pillow of gel or some other material.
Hmm…An interesting thought to ponder.
The inserts she’d tried in the past had never worked the way they were purported to, and more often than not, she found herself accidentally stepping out of her shoes because of them, particularly when she picked up her pace. A definite walking hazard.
Finding this new conundrum important enough to put further thought into it, Staci turned on her computer and accessed the network drive shared by Sales, PR, and Marketing. All three divisions were located in Scottsdale. A spur-of-the-moment decision she’d made when starting up the company.