Ava tightens her arms around me in a bear hug, and I have to tear my gaze away from her gorgeous friend, who stands back several feet, like she’s not sure about joining our circle.
“Hey, squirt.” I hug my little sister back.
“What are you, ten?” Ava complains in a pissy sibling tone, even though I know she’d throw herself in front of a moving train for me.
I glance at her friend again, who is gazing off at the crowd.
“Gotta go.” Oz pecks Ava on the cheek. “Good to see ya, sis.” He makes a break for it and disappears. Oz and Dex both treat Ava like a sister. They should, because she’s been hanging around us since she was flat-chested and still in pigtails. They’ve also helped me look out for her since we were orphaned during her fragile teenage years.
When Ava and I lost our parents, I made Dex and Oz promise to cut the balls off of any douchebag who made a move on my baby sister, including our friends. Even though she’s an adult now, she’s still my kid sister, and I insist my two best friends renew that promise at least once a year. They’ve always got my back and Ava’s too.
A waiter dressed in black tie walks by with a tray, and Ava’s friend snags a glass of bubbly. I notice the slight tremble in her hand as she lifts the fluted glass to her full lips.
Ava steps to Dex and pecks him on the cheek too. I swear Dex stiffens, which strikes me as odd because they’re like family to each other. He says something to Ava, but I’ve already tuned them out. Every sound in the room is silenced in my head as I zero in on the most erotic thing I’ve seen since I last looked at Tumblr: Ava’s friend. Her lips wrapping around the rim of an expensive crystal champagne glass, and all I can think is that I want those lips wrapped around me. Any part of me, I don’t care. The muscles in her slender neck move gently as the fine Dom Perignon slides down her throat. Her skin is as flawless as an angel’s, her face just as beautiful, and her killer body could make a man sell his soul to the devil.
The photographer—maybe a few years older than me, pretty, and wearing a wedding ring—steps up and hands me her card. “In case you ever need me for anything else.” She says it with a professional tone, but low, so no one around us can hear because she’s not just talking about her services as a photographer.
I nod dismissively, and swing my gaze back to my sister’s friend, where my fantasy picks up right where it left off.
“Hey, numbskull.” Ava’s sarcastic tone bites into my thoughts. “I told you I was coming down here to save your ass.” She walks over, grabs her friend by the sleeve, and hauls her right in front of me. Like an offering of some kind. “Chloe Evers,” Ava says. “Meet my brother, Leo Foxx.”
Chloe’s blue eyes meet mine, linger for a second, and then a smile curves onto those lips I’ve been admiring. “Nice to meet you, Leo Foxx.” My name rolls off her tongue, and I swear there’s a soft purr to her voice.
I shake it off. “You as well, Ms. Evers.” I try to sound suave, which elicits a sharply raised brow from my sister. I can’t fault Ava for calling me on my bullshit. She knows I’ll always be a chess geek at heart no matter how much money I make, how much muscle I’ve packed on at the gym, or how cool my clothes are.
“Chloe works for Simmons & Richards,” Ava says.
That name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it so I let my eyebrows slide together.
“I’m a public relations account rep.” Chloe lets the rim of the glass hover at her lips like she’s using it as a shield.
Ah, yes. I’ve heard the name a time or two. Simmons & Richards is a mid-sized public relations firm on Madison Avenue with a growing list of high-profile clients.
“You need an outside firm to handle your PR right now, big brother, and Chloe’s just the person for the position.”
Huh-uh. Of all the positions I’m imagining Chloe Evers in, PR rep isn’t one of them. Not even close.
“So I need to steal Dex away for a sec,” Ava blurts. “You and Chloe can talk business for a few minutes.” My sister hooks her arm in Dex’s and leads him away.
I should be pissed at her for putting me in this situation. But I take another look at Chloe, and just like that, I want to send my sister a bouquet of flowers instead. “No one ever accused Ava of being subtle,” I deadpan.
Chloe holds up a palm. “I wouldn’t dare. She’d consider it an insult.” Chloe keeps a straight face, but her voice is tinged with playfulness. “It works for her, though, don’t you think? She’s kind of adorable.”
“Polar bears are adorable until you meet one in the wild.”
Chloe lets out a deep, throaty laugh, which sends my mind in forty different directions at once, none of them wholesome.
Then it happens. As her laughter dies down, a subtle smile stays on her lips, and she studies me. A spark flares in her eyes, a flush spreads across her high cheekbones. Her lips part. All signs that her vomeronasal organ has picked up the scent of Checkmate’s new product line that I’m wearing and is signaling the olfactory nerves in the frontal lobe, which triggers sexual arousal in the amygdaloid area of her brain.
Plain English: She’s into me. She’s just not sure how much yet.
None of Checkmate’s products can make a woman do anything against her will. The bioengineered products simply activate the part of the female brain that notices sexual attraction much quicker than it would on its own. From there, a dude is on his own. The lady makes her own conscious choices, and if he can’t close the deal, then it’s on him.
“How about a tour of Checkmate?” I hold out a hand toward the glass elevators, and Chloe tips her head as she heads in that direction. I fall in beside her. “And you can try to convince me that I need a PR rep.”
“On the way here, your sister and I followed the launch on Twitter. If you don’t already know you need a PR rep, then the problem is far worse than I thought, Mr. Foxx.”
This time I laugh. I was right; she’s confident in her professional life. And if I connect point A and point B of my earlier assessment, she’ll become confident in bed when she meets the right guy who can help her figure out what she wants in that particular area.
“Touché.” My voice is light with amusement because I already find this woman entertaining and intriguing. “And I only hire people who call me Leo.” I lead us to the front of the elevators, where I press the button. It opens as if it’s been waiting for us. I try not to eye-fuck Chloe’s ass as I let her walk in first. But she’s smokin’ hot in a snug black pencil skirt that leaves little to the imagination.
Well, hell. It actually leaves plenty to the imagination, because I’m picturing things I shouldn’t. I’ve just met this woman, and fucking—eye or otherwise—an employee of a PR firm in the midst of the smear campaign being launched against Checkmate would make me the stupidest smart person on the planet.
Chloe leans back against the elevator wall as the doors slide shut. Champagne flute poised at her lips, her eyes gleam at me. We start to move upward, and she looks out through the glass elevator walls. I’m certain she pulls air into her lungs and holds it, the sheer magnificence of the rotunda taking her breath away as it always does mine. I had it specially designed by one of the most sought-after architects in the country. On the ground floor, the chess theme is obvious without being overdone. Looking down from up here, the rotunda forms a giant game board with black-and-white marble floors and chess-themed statues scattered around as if an actual match is in progress.
“What do you think so far?” I ask, because I suddenly find myself wanting her approval.
She turns a professional look on me, but her eyes tell a different story. A much naughtier story. “The size is impressive. I can’t wait to see more.”
I have to bite my tongue. Literally.
And it hurts like a motherfucker.
She turns her gaze back on the crowd below, which hasn’t thinned. Free food and booze draw an enthusiastic audience every time.
She tilts her head toward the rotunda. “I’m taking you away fro
m your guests. Are you sure this is the right time to discuss what I can do for you, Leo?”
Holy shit.
This time I try not to swallow my tongue. “The champagne is good. They won’t even notice I’m gone.”
The elevator dings, and we get off. I lead her along the glass walls of the Research and Development department. Since it’s Friday and the workday hasn’t quite ended, employees are bustling around. I nod and make eye contact with each one.
“So this is where genius is created.” She’s not asking a question.
We stop, and stare through the glass into the R&D lab. I shake my head, lift both brows at her, and tap my temple. “This is where it’s created.” Then I point to the lab where techs are working the machines and scientists are testing new formulas. “That is where it’s shaped into a tangible product.”
She likes that answer, I can tell. She nods once and falls silent as we walk past the double doors leading into the lab.
“Aren’t we going in?” Chloe asks.
“If I take you into the lab where we house all of our secrets, I’d be breaking one of Checkmate’s cardinal rules.” I’d rather commit a cardinal sin with Ms. Evers, preferably up against the wall, but that’s not going to happen either. “How do I know you’re not a corporate spy?”
Her face lights up like Manhattan’s skyline after dark. “Oh, I always wanted to be a badass spy chick, like a female James Bond.”
“Really?” I say, feigning surprise. “I always wanted to be Q. The gadgets are what make James Bond a badass.”
That draws another throaty laugh, and my pants grow a size too tight. I’m glad my shirt is untucked.
“True.” She tilts her head to one side. “Double-0-Seven’s tux and martinis don’t hurt, though. So tell me how your company works in terms that I can understand.”
Ah, obviously my little sister hasn’t kept the fact that I’m a geekster a secret. We explore another floor while I give a broad explanation of pheromones and how our retail studios cater to our clients. I lead her to the elevators again. “I’m sure you don’t want to see the accounting department or the mail room, so how about I show you Packaging and Retail.”
“Onward,” she says like an obedient soldier. “Seeing your balance sheet wouldn’t help me fix your PR problem.”
And that’s when I realize I haven’t been interviewing her. She’s been interviewing me. I take her to the fourth floor and stand in front of the Packaging and Retail sign that’s etched into the glass doors. Some of the letters are shaped into chess pieces, just like the R&D lab. Every department and office at Checkmate carries this theme in its name and office décor. It’s our branding. Our company logo is to the left of the department name. Oz, Dex, and I agreed to use the knight when we first started because it’s our favorite game piece. I mean, let’s face it: Stallions are just fucking cool.
“So tell me, Chloe, why do you want my account?”
She looks puzzled. “Don’t you mean why would you want me and my firm to represent Checkmate Inc.? There’s a big difference between the two.”
“Perceptive.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “But no, that’s not what I mean. I want to know what you want and why you want it.”
God as my witness, my mouth starts to water.
She studies me, the wheels behind her intelligent eyes whizzing like she’s not sure if she should go the brutally honest route or schmooze me like a good account rep should to reel in a new client.
Her chin lifts. “I need to land a big account. My boss is itching to fire me because…” She hesitates, and I’m one hundred percent certain it has something to do with a man that’s hurt her. I want to cold-cock the son-of-a-bitch, and I don’t even know what he’s done. “It doesn’t matter why. Your sister suggested I speak to you because of the bad press Checkmate is getting, and I’d have to agree. I think your situation requires much more than a small in-house PR department. You need an experienced agency at your back.”
She went for honest, and I admire that.
“Leo.” My assistant, Leticia, hurries in. When I hired her three years ago, she tried to call me Mr. Foxx. I told her if she ever called me that again, she was fired. She’s called me Leo ever since. Everyone at Checkmate does.
Leticia is in her early forties, as organized as an office supply store, and happily married with two kids. She’s got her iPad in one hand, as always. Her ability to keep me and the entire company from derailing with just that device and her pointing finger that flies over the touchscreen is pure magic. I swear I owe this woman a kidney.
“The press is hounding me for a statement.” She blows out a breath like she’s an annoyed mother. It’s this thing we do, since I’m so much younger than her. “Actually they’re hounding you, but I’m the lucky person that gets paid to take your calls.”
Seems like the perfect opportunity to see if Ms. Evers is a good fit for Checkmate Inc. “Leticia, this is Chloe Evers.”
They give each other a friendly greeting.
“Chloe works for Simmons & Richards.” I turn to Chloe. “I’ve told you a lot about Checkmate. How about you show me what you’ve got by writing up a press release?”
“Now?” Her expression blanks, and she doesn’t try to hide the surprise in her tone.
“No time like the present. Consider this part of your sales pitch.”
Finally she nods, and Leticia finds Chloe a desk and computer. Fifteen minutes later Chloe sends the document to the printer and hands a copy to me.
I scan it. “This is good.” I give Chloe an appraising look. Her press release includes a brief statement about how the company’s goal is misunderstood, that Checkmate is planning to launch philanthropic efforts to further educational opportunities for women, and we will ensure more women are hired into the company with equal pay. All things Checkmate already supports.
“It’s also a risk that could backfire.” I read the last sentence again.
The risky part is announcing that Checkmate will open its doors to the press and give the world a behind-the-scenes look at how our retail studios operate. Something we’ve never done before because our loyalty to client privacy is the foundation of the retail studio arm of the company.
Chloe concedes with a nod. “It’s a gamble, but if it’s done with the right finesse, it could enhance the mystique that already surrounds your company. The most effective way to deal with a situation like this is to change the narrative. The press is always going to report the negative first. Bad press is more interesting and attention-grabbing. So we shift the focus to something positive.”
I breathe in deep, weighing my options. Finally, I summon Leticia and hand her the press release. “Strike the last sentence.”
Chloe looks a little crestfallen, although she’s trying to cover it.
I don’t like that look on her. So I add, “We’ll revisit the idea after Ms. Evers and I have time to discuss it. Go with the rest of it, but run it by Dex and Oz first.” I know Leticia will track them down within minutes no matter where they are in the building. Swear to God, I think she’s secretly installed internal tracking chips in our sleep.
“You got it, boss.” Leticia secures the paper under her iPad. “You’ve got even bigger problems at the moment.”
I don’t consider my life riddled with problems. I’m young and successful. I also manage to get laid fairly often, and they aren’t even pity-fucks. Gone is the scrawny chess team captain whose khaki slacks telegraphed “nerd” ten minutes before I arrived at any given destination. Now I’m fit, thanks to daily weight training and the friendly fitness competitions Dex, Oz, and I have made a ritual since we handed in our geek cards and transformed into the men we are today.
Bottom line: When I sleep with a woman, I make sure she knows she’s a queen and I’m her pawn for however long we’re together.
When I don’t seem worried, Leticia gets that annoyed mother hen look on her face again. “Protestors are gathering in front of the buildin
g.”
Well, that’s not as bad as world hunger or global warming, but it does throw a kink into my day. “Have a company car brought around to the main exit as a decoy.” Oz, Dex, and I rarely use them, but all three of us have a driver and a black Lexus with the Checkmate logo on the side—I think I mentioned how badass those stallions are, right? “I’ll leave in my own car through the back exit.”
Leticia hurries off to slay dragons for me.
“I should find your sister,” Chloe says.
“Got it taken care of.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and fire off a text to Ava.
She shoots one right back.
“She’s catching a ride with Dex as soon as he’s done.” Leticia has probably already cornered him to sign off on the press release, so he should be free in a matter of seconds. I know my little sister is in good hands, so I take Chloe’s elbow and lead her to the elevators. “If you’re free for dinner, I’d like to hear the details of your idea and the finesse you’d use. Or I can bring you home. Your choice.”
She hesitates as we wait for the elevator.
It happens again. Time slows. Shit, I’ve watched too damn many Star Trek episodes. Everything around us vanishes as she gently nibbles on her plump bottom lip. So much about her is revealed in that one small action.
“I’m free… tonight.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “What do you say we fulfill one of your fantasies and make our escape like two covert agents?” The second the word “fantasies” leaves my mouth, my throat closes. I want to know all of her fantasies. And I want to be the one to fulfill them.
Chapter Three
I take Chloe to my favorite Italian bistro in the West Village. It’s a place I like to hang out and relax with people I’m comfortable with, like Dex and Oz. Or my basketball teammates after an intramural league game.
Yes, chess club geeks can be athletic too.
It’s a family-owned restaurant with dim lighting and checkered tablecloths. No idea why I pick Trombino’s tonight, because it’s not a place I’d normally take a business associate.
ForePlay: A Checkmate Inc. Novel Book 1 (The Checkmate Inc. Series) Page 2