STONED
Book One of My Stepbrother's Keeper
Cynthia Sharon
~~~
Smashwords Edition
COPYRIGHT DETAILS
Copyright © 2015 Cynthia Sharon
Simultaneously published in United States of America, the UK, India, Germany, France, Italy, Canada, Japan, Spain, and Brazil.
All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form of by any other electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodies in articles or reviews –without written permission from its author.
STONED has provided the most accurate information possible. Many of the techniques used in this book are from personal experiences. The author shall not be held liable for any damages resulting from use of this book.
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
To Be Continued...
Bonus Free Gift
About the Author
One Last Thing
CHAPTER ONE
“This is bullshit!” Ralph said, throwing the sales figures on the table. He was fuming with his cheeks turning an unflattering shade of purple and the smoke from his cigar encircling his head like a wreath.
Allison Shepard coughed, choked up by the nicotine stench. However, Ralph McDonough was the senior partner at Vision Marketing, Inc., and the health codes for New York City buildings didn’t apply here. He’d been an avid stogie smoker for years, and Allison had learned to deal with the assault to her allergies and, alas, the secondhand smoke filling her lungs. Besides, it calmed him down. If McDonough was this pissed already, then she was grateful for anything that managed to calm him down.
“I’m so sorry,” her assistant, Kristen started.
Allison stared at the younger girl and hoped she’d take the hint. Her assistant had only been at the firm for two years, and she didn’t understand yet that Ralph was like Mount St. Helen’s. Once he started erupting, it was pointless to try and stop the spread of his rage. He just had to burn himself out.
Ralph glared back at both of them, and Allison’s cheeks flushed, feeling the scrutiny of him focused completely on her in front of the entire senior staff of the company. “Do you want to repeat that, Karen?”
“It’s Kristen,” she added, and Allison definitely needed to explain to the other girl about not burying herself deeper. That was, of course, assuming that either of them still had a desk here after the meeting. “I just meant that we thought it was a slam dunk.”
He shook his head but focused his laser sharp attention on only Allison now. “You lobbied me, Allison. You lobbied me for three months to have the Schmidt’s Lager account, and I let you have it because you’ve done such great work in the past. I thought you had enough vision to make up for that fact that, frankly, women don’t know how to market to men.”
She swallowed but kept her focus directly on him. As terrible as his lambasting was, it would only get worse if he thought she was avoiding him. “I thought the ‘Life’s a Beach’ campaign would work. It had everything---exotic locations, breaking free from authority, and of course we had the requisite swimsuit model in the background.”
“Exactly,” he said, cueing up the DVD player. “This is already making the rounds for people in the know. This is what Stone Advertising has already come up with since Schmidt’s fired us last week for low sales. Pay better attention.”
Allison bit the inner side of her cheek to keep herself from shooting her mouth off. She hadn’t spent six years working up the ladder to rise to the bait of a hothead like McDonough. As the test footage for the first new Schmidt’s Lager ad rolled, she had to grimace. It was the frat brother, sexcapade mess that she expected from a company like Stone. There were tons of women in cocktail dresses so short it was almost pornographic at some uptown bar and more than a few innuendos were exchanged between the leads of the commercial. It was both puerile and something that couldn’t air in certain markets before eight at night.
“Now that’s already testing amazing from what I hear with their focus groups, and that’s exactly what we should have given them!”
“That’s filthy and you know that thirty percent of Schmidt’s consumers are women. They don’t like something that makes that Carl’s, Jr. ad with Paris Hilton and the carwash look like a damn rerun of Full House. I didn’t think we were that type of company,” she said, her voice rising a little, despite her best efforts. The dreck that Stone Advertising came up with did that to her. No art to it, little actual thought. Why bother if you could use boobs?
“Well, it was a brilliant enough lure for one of our biggest clients away from us, and for my baby…the company I’ve built up for thirty years to be on damn life support.”
Everyone around the table couldn’t hide their reactions to that. A few whispered behind her and at least one literally had their jaw hanging open. Her own heart started to race. Sure, Allison had known the company had taken a few hits in the last few years and that, unfortunately, Robert Stone and his outfit had stolen quite a few of their clients away. She had no idea that losing Schmidt’s would put the company in such a precarious financial position.
Besides, it’s not like she hadn’t tried her best. The campaign had been something she’d worked hard on for three months, and she believed that creating a fantasy vacation for everyone, both men and women, would have been a blockbuster way to sell the beer.
How could she have been so wrong?
Kristen, bless her, stampeded past the pause in the room. The girl never had known when there was tension rising anywhere. “What does that even mean, Mr. McDonough?”
“It means that I have to meet with my accountants and figure out what the future of our company is, and it means that both you, Ms. Fine, as well as Ms. Shepard are being busted back down to the Wally Weasel account. That place sells itself.”
Allison groaned. Wally Weasel was a mix of arcade games and a filthy ball pit with a singing animatronic stage show centered around the titular mammal. For whatever reason, the owners of the place always insisted that meetings take place in a local franchise and right in the dining room with screaming kids everywhere. They said it helped inspire people, so that they could see exactly what the heart of their brand was.
Allison already knew that.
It involved bored, desperate weekend dads, vomit, and pizza made from day-old ingredients. It was also the account no one wanted, the one she’d been forced onto fresh out of college.
“Did I hear something out of you?” McDonough said. “At least that account has never wavered. It’s not the sort of thing that fucking Stone can sex up or steal and, thus, it must be perfect for you.”
“I made a miscalculation.”
“You made a mas
sive error, Shepard. Now get out of my office before I make you the damn janitor.”
CHAPTER TWO
“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I spent a year with Wally Weasel. I did my time in pizza and corndog Hell. I hate it. I worked for months crafting that campaign and it was going to work, I swear.”
Her best friend and former roommate, Cassidy, just pushed her long red hair back in a ponytail and shrugged back at her. Allison had always been a bit jealous of the other girl. She was tall, while Allison, herself, was barely 5’3, and her hair was so thick and long.
Allison had never been able to get hers to grow out that well and so she kept it in a short blonde bob. Hell, both her fiancé and her father couldn’t see what drew the two girls together.
Allison was studious, completely the type-A personality, and Cassidy had always been bubbly and very affable, but not necessarily the brightest crayon in the box. It made sense to Allison, though. When Cassidy needed someone to remind her to pay her bills or double check to make sure things in the refrigerator weren’t growing fur, she was there. In turn, when Allison needed to cut loose, Cassidy was the person who knew how to cut through her crap.
“It’s not completely your fault,” the redhead offered, pouring her a shot of Jack Daniels.
Allison wasn’t a drinker by nature, wasn’t usually more than into white wine, but she needed something stronger to get through such a shit day. Taking a quick swallow, she glared back at her friend. “Why am I here?”
Cassidy sighed and pulled out a rag to clean the bar. It wasn’t overly crowded at Sully’s tonight, and she was able to spend more time hanging by Allison. “Well, you could have been a bit more ‘Stone-like’ in your approach.”
“So you’re saying it’s my fault because I didn’t have enough T and A on things?”
“I’m saying that Stone’s work sucks, but he got the market. All the guys who come in here for that cheap crap? They’re the popped collar types with backwards visors and polo ponies on their shirts. They don’t care about vacation fantasies, they just want what’s cheap and fast.”
She snorted and finished her shot. “That sums up everything that hack Stone has ever done.”
“He must be doing something right. Apple, Facebook, and Budweiser all go to him. My point is, I still wouldn’t beat yourself up about it. You have principles and that’s what matters, and, besides, that’s the worst selling beer at the bar.”
“You are not making me feel any better.”
Cassidy chuckled and continued to wipe off the taps. “It was always our worst selling beer. That stuff tastes like sewer water. It doesn’t matter how good a campaign Stone works up for them, it’s never going to sell well.”
Allison set the glass down with a thunk and pushed it back to her friend. “Another.”
“Nope, you’ll thank me when you go home and snuggle up with your cuddle bear.”
“Yes, being engaged is just like that.”
“I’m serious. You really shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. You make commercials, but you can’t make the product taste any good. You’ll regroup, get your boss’s confidence back and then kick ass on a campaign that doesn’t involve animatronic hedgehogs.”
“Weasels,” she countered gathering up her purse.
“Exactly.”
Allison pushed a strand of honey-blonde hair back over her ear. “McDonough said something that I’ve never heard before. I didn’t think we’d lost that many clients over the years, but he mentioned there might be restructuring coming.”
“Like out of the job?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes McDonough blows smoke, but it made everyone nervous. What if I sunk the whole company?”
Cassidy chuckled and squeezed her hand from across the bar. “You always think you’re more powerful than you are. It’s not your fault. You did a real campaign and not just the lowest common denominator.”
“And I if I had, Schmidt’s wouldn’t be in bed with Stone Marketing.”
“True, but if you have to hate someone, save it for the person who earned it, that lousy billionaire pitch man, Robert Stone. He’s the one stealing clients, wiggling people out of contracts, and making advertising all about the biggest bust line. Now, like I said, go home and chill with Thomas for a while. It’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Ugh, not likely.”
Cassidy frowned. “Are you guys having issues? I know he hesitated for like a year to set the date…”
Her friend’s features were schooled to neutral but Allison knew that Cassidy was angling to say more. She’d never understood why Thomas would propose to her but not settle on a date until eighteen months later. Allison tried to explain a million times about how hard making tenure track was and the papers he’d been churning out to impress his colleagues. There just hadn’t been time right away for wedding planning.
And maybe, just a bit, part of her hadn’t been in a rush either.
“We’re not, but I have to represent our firm at an industry convention in Vegas and fly out at dawn tomorrow. I have been so busy with the Schmidt’s disaster that I don’t even know my full itinerary yet.”
“Then you definitely need some snuggling,” Cassidy said, even if her tone was a bit short. “I’ll see you soon, and feel free to bring me back something tacky from Sin City.”
“Deal.”
CHAPTER THREE
“You look drained,” Thomas said, slipping his glasses off of his nose and eying her as she walked into their bedroom. “Did the big meeting did go that badly?”
“I’m back on my least favorite account.”
Her fiancé flinched at that. “More pizza weasels?”
“Basically. I had heard the rumors but Schmidt’s definitely got poached by freaking Robert Stone. Anyway, it’s been a long, horrible day, and I think having a couple shots of Jack on an empty stomach was a terrible idea.”
Her fiancé stood and wrapped both arms around her from behind. Thomas was taller than she was, who wasn’t? He was tall with unruly dark hair that always fell in his face and bright green eyes. Those had been what had attracted her first deep down in the bowels of the New York City public library. He was already in grad school, cramming for his comps and she’d just needed a quiet place for junior year finals at NYU. Those frozen emeralds were mesmerizing.
They still were.
He leaned lower and kissed her neck. “Is there anything I can do to help relieve your stress?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I feel terrible, and then tomorrow I have to be out of here and to La Guardia by six. I’m afraid I’m not the best company right now.”
“You’re great company. Besides,” he said, teasing at her ear lobe. “That’s alright. I have something I need to get done for my English 101 class anyway. Still, if you need anything,” he said, punctuated his statement by kissing the top of her nose. “I can help.”
Allison blushed and pulled away from him. She’d always been a bit sensitive about her nose. It was longer and more angular than most girls but Tom swore he loved it, and he was always giving it extra attention. It made her a little self-conscious but it made him happy so she’d never complained about it. “I’ll think that offer over. It’s definitely intriguing, but for right now you go back to Poe.”
“Ravens and lost loves aren’t as entertaining as you,” he rumbled but still slipped back to his desk. “When I finally close tenure, I swear the hours will be terrible but not as insanely terrible as they are right now. I promise.”
“Hope so,” she replied, smiling back at him and heading back to their room. Maybe a hot bath would have to suffice. Hell, it seemed to be most of what she did these long days after work. Sometimes, she felt old and married and she hadn’t even said the vows yet. Shaking her head, Allison sat down on the bed and started pulling off her suit jacket.
She startled as her cellphone blared out.
The theme it played was The Imperial Death March from Star Wars.
&nb
sp; Her father.
“Daddy,” she said, forcing herself to be perky. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her dad. She did. He just expected so much, and the last thing she wanted to was let him know that her job---Hell, her whole firm---was in trouble. “How are you? How’s Monaco?”
Gabriel Shepard laughed on the other end. “The town’s the same as always,” he said, his usual nonplussed tone greeting her. “There’s the tables, and the shopping and all the yachts.”
“Yes, I can’t imagine how that would get boring, although you must be if you’re in the land of luxury and yet up at five a.m.”
“Actually,” he started. He was caught off a bit by a woman’s high-pitched squeal in the background.
“Gabriel, come back to bed.”
Allison’s eyes widened on the other end. Her mother had died when she was eight, and it had been she and her father ever since. That was a good and a bad thing. While she knew her father loved her and had doted on her through the years, that meant she was, as an only child, also the sole focus of his attention and scrutiny. A lot of that meant that while he’d, as he called it, “indulged her” in her freedom, her dad was still desperate for her to come and work under him as the Vice President of Shepard Communications.
She’d just never had any interest in corporate life like that.
What she did at Vision Marketing, Inc. gave her a chance to be creative, to harness her art and creativity. If she ever went to work with her father, she’d end up staring at spreadsheets all day and using terrible buzzwords like “synergy” and “dynamic.”
If only her father could understand that.
Although, it was entirely possible her father had been abducted and replaced by a space alien. He’d never been smooth with women, and even his wealth hadn’t been able to compensate for his bumbling nature. Still, he’d never dated anyone seriously over the last almost twenty years, and he’d certainly never been sloppy enough to call her in flagrante.
Stoned: A Billionaire Stepbrother With Benefits Romance (My Brother's Keeper Book 1) Page 1