by Chloe Morgan
Mad In Love
Chloe Morgan
Contents
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Come Swoon With Us
About the Author
Copyright
Description
I needed help at the office fast.
Stealing the best talent from my competitor seemed like a grand idea.
That was until I fell head over heels for the beautiful, curvy vixen.
Love stories don’t belong in the office, but rules be damned.
This woman has me wrapped around her finger almost from the start.
I’m good with keeping things casual until she walks away.
Then I’m willing to give away anything to get her back.
I have no choice. She’s pregnant with my secret baby.
And outside of that? I’m mad in love.
Chapter 1
Ethan
I set my fork down onto my plate and scrolled through my phone. The woman in front of me in the blinding red dress dragged on and on about pet-sitting and her niece’s cute little birthmark and her bullshit mother who never let her do anything when she was younger. Boohoo. Poor Shannon. Or was it Shelley? No. That didn’t sound right either. Shannon sounded right.
It wouldn’t matter after dinner anyway.
I looked up at the woman across from me and gazed into her brown eyes. She was a beautiful girl. Ambitious in her modeling career. Apparently, it was a cutthroat world, being a human hanger. She sure as hell ate like a model as well. Out of the five-course meal, she had touched only two that were placed down in front of her. The rest she shooed away, citing too much butter or too many carbs or complaining about how the sauce had “rained down” on the piece of salmon.
I rolled my eyes while she chewed the waiter’s ear off on her caloric intake and her necessity for health in her career.
She was beautiful but annoying. And sadly, not interesting enough to hold my attention. So, I took to my phone to review some pitch developments my firm had been tossing me all night. Frustration filled my gut. I oversaw every creative aspect of my billion-dollar advertising company. Sharpe Ads was greater and bigger and better because of it, because of my need and want to nitpick everything that came through my company. But these last three quarters, Maelstrom Inc. had beat my company out when it came to pitches for high-end clients. They came with bigger, better, flashier marketing copy and visual graphics, putting us to fucking shame.
It made me sick.
I had to figure out how the hell Maelstrom kept beating us out. We needed those contracts to stay on top. And if Sharpe Ads didn’t nail at least one of them before the year was out, Maelstrom would start the beginning of the year on top. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to let that happen. My right-hand man, Philip Wagner, kept calling it a “setback.” That somehow, our competitor who was quickly rising to the top was nothing but a “setback.” That the challenge to our status as number one was nothing but a “bump in the road.”
For the last three fucking quarters.
This last pitch they’d won was the last client they’d steal from us. Because the next time our pitches went head-to-head, Sharpe Ads was coming out on top.
Not Maelstrom Inc.
The familiar sound of laughter booming from the bar of the restaurant caught my ear. I rose my head and heard Shannon—Shelley?— stop talking. I looked through her, focusing on the voice behind me.
“Everything okay, Ethan?” my date asked.
“Yeah. Everything’s just fine. Order whatever you’d like for dessert. I have someone I have to visit,” I said.
She wrinkled her nose. “Too much sugar. I’ll never get it off before my show this weekend. Remember?”
“Then get another salad.”
I pushed away from the table as the woman scoffed at me. I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure if I could get it up long enough to fuck her after dinner anyway. It had been years since a woman had been that boring to me. I turned around and saw the Devil I spoke of sitting at the bar. A bunch of Maelstrom executives, sitting around laughing at one another, high on their latest win.
With Miller Kells in the middle of it all.
I buttoned my coat and made my way for them, my eyes locked on Kells. He and his team had been wiping the fucking floor with my guys for the entire year. Miller looked up and our eyes connected, and I watched as they widened. He recognized me, and I sensed a bit of fear wafting from his body.
Good.
He should be afraid of a shark like me.
The sea of bodies parted as I hiked my leg up onto the stool. I sat next to Miller Kells, staring him straight in his eyes. I rose my hand up for the bartender to see, my gaze never wavering.
“Two single malt scotches, if you could be so kind,” I said.
I tore my gaze away and looked at the bartender, nodding at him in kind.
“So, are we going to address why you look like you’re about to piss yourself? Or should I start by asking what you’re swindling at Maelstrom to suddenly start snagging accounts tailor-made for my company?” I asked.
I watched the man’s face split into a wide, menacing smile. One that made my stomach curl with anger.
“Same thing I’ve always been doing, Sharpe,” he said.
Our drinks were set down, and I grabbed mine, swirling the amber liquid around.
“Cut the shit, Kells. Maelstrom’s never had a quarter like this one. Much less three in a row. The company was tanking last year. The last five years, in fact. And now, you storm out of the gate with three quarters that have more than quadrupled your percentage of growth? I don’t think so,” I said.
“So, you’ve been researching us,” Kells said.
“I always keep my eye on those I intend to slaughter.”
“Then, I guess your date for the night should cut her losses before you disappoint her, huh?”
I sipped my drink. “What’s changed, Kells?”
He shrugged. “I took on some new talent at the beginning of the year. Done some mentoring. Things like that.”
I read between the lines as I watched Miller sip his drink. So, that was his endgame. I knew how to play that well. I threw back the rest of my drink before slapping him on the back, then placed my empty glass down onto the bar.
“Bartender, add these drinks to my tab,” I said.
Then, I turned my eyes to Miller.
“The next pitch is ours, mark my words,” I said.
“I’m sure you’ll try your hardest,” Miller said mockingly.
I made my way back to the table and found my date sitting there, her long, thin legs perfectly crossed. Her eyes locked with mine with that bedroom stare of hers. I offered her a trite smile before I pulled out my wallet and tossed a few hundred-dollar bills on the table.
“Thank you for the evening, but I’m heading home,” I said.
“Let me get my things,” she said.
“I’ll have a car pick you up and take you home.”
I didn’t stay to see her reaction. I didn’t wait around for her to scoff or verbally assault me. I turned and walked out of the restaurant with my hands in my pockets, balled up into fists. I stepped out the front door and saw my driver pull up. I slipped into the back and told him to radio fo
r another car for my date to take her home, and he rolled up the partition. I heard him on the phone as I pulled out my own phone, calling the first person I needed to speak with.
Philip himself.
“I take it the date didn’t go well.”
“They never do. Listen, I need you to figure out who Maelstrom has recently hired on Miller Kells’s creative team,” I said.
“Really? Working while on a date?” he asked.
“Kells has hired someone at the beginning of this year who is apparently skyrocketing their platform. So, I’m going to poach their talent.”
“You played that avenue once, and it didn’t go over well.”
“It paid off in the end. We learned from our mistakes the first time. We won’t make them this time around. We need that talent to stay on top. Figure out who it is, then start by offering him double what Maelstrom’s paying him. Along with benefits he’s not receiving there already,” I said.
“I’ll have a name for you as soon as I’ve got it.”
Three days went by before I heard from Philip. But when he came into my office and locked the door behind him, he pulled out a dossier that made me grin. He walked over and placed it on my desk silently, his hip leaning against the corner.
“It’s not a ‘he,’” Philip said.
I picked up the file and flipped it open.
“It’s a woman, and her name is Sarah Matthews,” he said.
I scanned the folder as a grin spread across my face. A woman in a man’s world. Maelstrom was practically a boys’ club. A fucking sausage fest over there. A little bit of a feminine touch went a long way with things like this, and it shouldn’t have shocked me at all. She was pretty, I’d give her that. Strawberry-blonde hair with blue eyes that sparkled against her pale skin. A sprinkle of freckles over her nose that drew the eye to her full lips. Miller had probably hired her because she was good-looking, hoping to get a piece of the talent for personal pleasure.
My eyes, however, were focused on her credentials.
“She’s young,” I said.
“Twenty-six. Gives a fresh eye to things,” Philip said.
“And an edge on how to tailor things to younger generations.”
“Look at her schooling.”
My eyebrows rose. “Cornell.”
“Top five percent of her class. I even managed to pull samples of her work she used when interviewing with Maelstrom. And they’re…”
I flipped to the back before I chuckled.
“They’re fantastic,” I said.
“That’s putting it lightly. She’s very talented, Ethan.”
“Talent we could use.”
My eyes fell onto a sticky note with parts of her daily routine on it and my grin grew into a smile. So, that’s why it took Philip so long to get this damn dossier to me.
“I’ve got just the plan that’ll work,” I said.
Chapter 2
Sarah
I pushed my way into the busy coffee shop like I did every morning. People flooded out while I tried to sneak in, and every morning I stood there like an idiot for twenty minutes waiting for a cup of coffee. There were plenty of coffee shops in Manhattan, but this one was the perfect walking distance from my work. I needed routine. Something to ground me every morning and every evening. Something that was the same yet familiar, to help with my swirling creative mind as it became exhausted throughout the day.
A routine minimized decisions. Put my mind on autopilot so it could rest.
My mind whirled as I stood in line. I had a pitch I was wrapping up today, and part of me wanted to change the entire color scheme of the thing. The company wanted to go with blush tones along with neutral tans and cream colors, but for some reason a vibrant yellow suited the establishment more. Shades of yellow, pastel to the thick color of the sun. Maybe a spritz of orange to break up the creams and the browns.
Coffee. I needed my coffee first.
“Are you happy in your current position?”
I whipped around at the sound of the voice and noticed the commotion going on behind me—people cussing and murmuring under their breath as a handsome stranger shoved his way behind me in line. I turned around, gazing up into the eyes of the striking man who had asked me a very odd question. And when he smiled at me, my heart literally skipped a beat.
His smile was blinding, and I felt my legs grow weak. I felt my voice leave. I felt my soul drift away from my body as the man’s piercing green eyes smiled back at me.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Are you happy in your current position?” the man asked.
What kind of position? Was this man propositioning me for sex?
The second my mind wandered, it spiraled. Like it always did. My eyes scanned the man in front of me. The dapper suit, tailored specifically to his body. His tall, athletic build that boasted of strength underneath his expensive clothes. The vein at his neck pulsed rhythmically. He bent forward slightly, as if to hover over me. His legs were long, his shoulders broad, his jaw strong, with that radiating smile he offered to me.
My mind threw up image after image of us in several positions: straddling his lap, folded in half with those green eyes gazing down into my face, pressed against the wall, with his muscles rolling underneath that suntanned skin of his.
I shook my head softly and cleared my throat.
“My position?” I asked.
“You could do better, you know,” the man said.
“Better,” I said.
“Mhm. Much better. And I’m the man that can make it happen, if you’re interested.”
“Happen… how?”
“Move up, lady!” someone shouted.
The man pressed his hand to the small of my back, and we scooted up. Just that small touch sent my cheeks flaming. I felt them heat underneath his gaze. His hand slipped from my body, and I desperately wanted him to put it back. To touch me again and shoot that searing electricity through my gut again.
“I could offer you a place underneath me,” the man said.
My eyes widened as my eyes focused on the register in front of me.
“You’d be well compensated. Double what you’re used to,” the man said.
Holy shit. This man had lost his mind. He really was propositioning me!
I scoffed. “I’m fine right where I am, thanks.”
“What can I get for you?” the barista asked me.
“Yes, I’d like a large hot chai tea, dirty, with three shots,” I said.
“Anything else?” the barista asked.
“And two of your lemon bars to go. They don’t need to be heated,” I said.
“Wonderful. That’ll be—”
“Whatever the total is, put it on this,” the man said.
I watched his arm extend over my shoulder and noticed the black credit card in his hand. I was about to tell the man to get the fuck over it and move along. That buying me a cup of coffee and some pastries wouldn’t get him into my pants. But he gripped my elbow and pulled me over to a table in the corner, next to where my order would come up.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I yanked my arm from his grasp.
I hated the fact that my body still yearned for him to touch me again.
Instead of answering me, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a thick silver card. He handed it to me, and I gazed down at the name, quirking an eyebrow in the process.
Ethan Sharpe?
“I know you work for Maelstrom, but Sharpe Ads will double your salary if you come work for us,” he said.
“You’re Ethan Sharpe,” I said.
“You’ll be given everything Maelstrom won’t give you. Your own office. Your own team to head up. Your choice of medical benefits and a 401(k). We’ll match it, up to ten percent of your paycheck, not the measly five percent Maelstrom does,” he said.
He wasn’t trying to proposition me for sex. He was trying to recruit me.
“My own team?” I asked.
“Yes. Do
uble your salary, the best medical and dental care available, a 401(k) that is outmatched. Your own office on the top floor. You’ll head up my premier creative team. You can piece it together yourself. Interview, or pluck from within the company. You’ll have free reign with more money than you could ever imagine.”
“Dirty chai with three shots and two lemon bars!” the barista called out.
I slipped away from the man and put his card in my pocket. I grabbed my order and went to scurry out the door, but Ethan grabbed my arm again. I still wasn’t convinced this man was who he said he was. But when he slapped a wad of cash into my hand, I grew a little more curious.
“That’s five thousand dollars, and it’s your hiring bonus,” the man said.
“I—I can’t—this is—just take this, okay?” I asked.
I tried shoving the money back into his hands, but he wouldn’t take it. He held his arms over his head and backed away from me, a sly grin on his face. I shook my head as I stood there with the cash in my hand. I looked like a damn crazy person. The man who claimed to be Ethan Sharpe shot me one last blinding smile, sending my stomach tumbling over on itself.
“Think it over for me, Miss Sarah Matthews.”
Oh, I liked how my name sounded in his voice too much.
I looked around the coffee shop and felt eyes on me in all directions. I shoved the money into my purse along with the lemon bars, then raced out with my coffee in my hand. I darted up the street and slammed into Maelstrom Inc. My entire routine had been thrown off, and I felt as if I couldn’t catch my breath. I raced to the elevator and down the hallway. I was on the third floor, with carpet that needed cleaning and lights that still flickered in the hallway with bulbs that needed changing.
I wasn’t in my office twenty minutes before a knock came at my door.