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    Mark
    Mark
    Mark
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    Mark

    By Alice Gaines

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Cara Fairchild thinks she’s found a path to success, until she runs up against office politics and betrayal. How she yearns for a few days on the beach to refuel and figure out her future. Through some sort of warp in the universe, she finds herself right by the ocean. Paradise. What’s more, her host is a sexy guy who says he’s her Pleasure Trainer.

    Mark’s latest assignment, Cara, is a burned-out executive who needs to learn how to enjoy herself. The fact that she turns him on like mad makes his job easier. Only, he’s not supposed to let emotions get involved. Oops. Can they fit into each other’s worlds?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChangeling Press
    Release dateMay 12, 2023
    Mark
    Author

    Alice Gaines

    Alice Gaines likes her fiction hot, hot, hot. Alice has a PhD from the University of California at Berkeley. She shares a house in Oakland, California, with her pet corn snake and a stray cat that lives in her yard. When Alice isn't making up stories in her head, she spends her time cooking, gardening, and listening to her favorite band, Tower of Power.

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      Book preview

      Mark - Alice Gaines

      Chapter One

      Cara Fairchild sat with her elbows on her desktop and her head in her hands. That son of a bitch, Busby. She’d had a good idea he’d try to sink her latest merger somehow. The guy had had it in for her the moment she’d gotten her promotion to middle management. It had started with little slights in front of their superiors, like hints he’d had to help her with her presentation. Then he’d graduated to sabotage -- deleting her computer files from their shared drive, thinking she wouldn’t have a backup. Dumbass didn’t seem to realize the software would mark the change as his.

      She hadn’t complained to anyone in the office, and there was no one at home to vent her frustrations to. But she’d guarded against his little tricks and avoided any disasters. Now, she’d spent months courting Old Man Henderson of Henderson Electronics while carefully dodging Henderson’s roving hands and insulting propositions. She was going to coordinate her first big merger until Busby had somehow convinced upper management to assign him to oversee the acquisition. And she’d had to watch him gloat in front of all the others.

      She lifted her head and rubbed her face. Unfortunately, that smeared her eye makeup. Damned warpaint. She only wore it on days she had to impress Cramer, their boss. It hadn’t worked today.

      She stared out of her eleventh-floor windows at the city below. She’d so admired this view when she’d been assigned her office. It had proved she was On Her Way Up. Middle management, bound for promotions until she reached the sixteenth floor where all the big guns lived. Right. Somewhere around fourteen there was a famous glass ceiling she hadn’t believed in when in graduate school. Some women never learned, including her, obviously.

      She’d hoped to become someone to be reckoned with when she was only someone to be fucked with.

      A soft tap came on the door, and before Cara could answer, Sally, her administrative assistant, entered. Sally didn’t wear warpaint. Sally wore comfortable clothes and was nearing a comfortable retirement. Not what Cara had planned for herself.

      Sally stood for a moment with her hands folded in front of her.

      Word’s gotten around, Sally said finally. It’s not fair.

      The administrative staff knows?

      Madge was taking minutes. She saw the whole thing.

      Great. I’m a public failure.

      Sally came to stand beside Cara’s desk. You’re not a failure.

      Why had she said that? Never admit weakness. Never let anyone see you down. Don’t complain. Just push forward. Always forward and upward. Act like a professional at all times.

      But this was Sally. Sally had never had children of her own, but she’d done her best to mother Cara from Cara’s first day here. She probably understood better than anyone what any young executive faced at Jordan Enterprises, Inc. Male or female. But women had to dress carefully and smear paint on their faces. They had to do what all the guys did, but in heels.

      Busby is a prick, Sally said. Everyone knows it.

      Cara only stared at her. Sally never swore.

      So, you lose this merger. Sally shrugged as if the setback was no big deal. You’ll get a better one. I’ve been around here for a while. I’ll help you think something up.

      It took me months to come up with this one. And a good deal of her self-esteem putting up with Henderson.

      Sally put her hand on Cara’s shoulder. You’re better than any of them.

      It would be nice if someone noticed. Cara patted Sally’s hand. Besides you.

      So, where do we go from here?

      I don’t know about you, Cara said, but I’m going to go get drunk.

      You’re not going to do any such thing.

      Of course, I’m not. That wouldn’t help anything.

      Why don’t you take a few days off, though? Get your bearings.

      Cara blew out a breath. I don’t know.

      You work too hard. Everyone needs a rest now and then. Go someplace nice. Like a beach.

      Oh, a beach. She’d so loved the ocean as a kid. When had she last been to a body of water larger than a swimming pool? That sales convention in San Diego had been near a beach. She’d rented a car at the airport. She could have sneaked out and spent the afternoon in the sun. Why in hell hadn’t she?

      I can’t slink off after a defeat, Cara said. I might as well paint a huge L for Loser on my forehead.

      You don’t have to advertise you’re taking a few days off, Sally said. I can cover for you. Secretary magic.

      They’d often joked that secretaries, or administrative assistants as they were called now, could work miracles. Sally had done it more than once when Cara had had a killer headache or had overslept. Do you think your magic could cover me for a few days?

      Ms. Fairchild is on a site visit, Sally said in a faux professional voice. Ms. Fairchild is working from home today. Ms. Fairchild can’t attend that meeting because of a previous engagement.

      Cara couldn’t help but laugh.

      If anything truly crucial comes up, I can call you. Then you can text or email from your balcony overlooking the beach.

      It sounded like heaven. A beach for a few days. Do you really think that’s possible?

      It’s worth a try. I’m pretty sure I can cover for a few days. Probably not a week.

      Two or three whole days at a beach. Sleeping late and getting up when she wanted. Wearing swimsuits and shorts. Drinks with tiny umbrellas in them.

      Splashing in the surf. Real swimming. These days she only swam in the pool at the gym. Laps. Back and forth. Back and forth. Not going anywhere really. Just exercising to keep in shape. They even had a time limit, and another swimmer could call you on it and make you get out of the water.

      She could sit under an umbrella and read a book. Not a report, but a book. Maybe one of those sinful ones with people in a clinch on the cover. She’d devoured those in

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