Good Girl Read online

  Good Girl

  By Susan Wright

  COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION

  2013 Edition

  Copyright © 2013 Susan Wright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  Cover image of the Pink Crystal Chainmail Choker Collar with Rhinestone Heart Lock courtesy of Brain of Jen: www.brainofjen.com

  www.susanwright.info

  Chapter 1

  Kali stared dreamily out the window of the high-rise conference room at the skyscrapers of downtown Manhattan. She still couldn’t believe she was living in the city, but the incredible view was a constant reminder of how far she had come.

  The door opened, startling her. She was supposed to be switching the covers on the proposals by the two finalists, and if her boss caught her sitting there looking at the view, Kali would be in big trouble.

  But it was only the receptionist, Lindy. Her eyes were wide as she announced, “One of the artists is here!”

  “Which one?” Kali asked.

  “Hunter Munro. Why didn’t you warn me? He’s so hot! I would have worn my cleavage shirt.” Lindy pulled her sweater smoother, and checked her lipstick in the chrome plate behind the door handle. “Wish me luck!”

  With that, she headed back out to the lobby. Lindy wasn’t the most picky girl, so Kali took her enthusiasm with a grain of salt, but still...

  Flipping open the cover of the blue proposal, Kali looked down at the black and white headshot of Hunter Munro. He was handsome, though a bit moody and mysterious with half of his face covered by shadow. Kali’s boss Selina didn’t do “moody.” Selina thought Hunter’s headshot was arty and pretentious. But the two proposals had received the most votes in their online campaign, so Selina had no choice but to offer up both to the executive committee of SunTech. After all, the competition had been her idea.

  Actually it had been Kali’s idea, but Selina took credit for it because she was the head of the PR department. Through the windows, far down below, Kali could see the old stone fountain that practically filled the plaza. It looked so solid and permanent that each day she came to work, she wondered if that fountain would outlast her in the end.

  Her boss, Selina, had ruined everything. Kali’s move to New York City after getting her dream job doing PR for SunTech, an up-and-coming environmental business, was hanging in the balance. Kali lived every hour in dread of making a fatal mistake that would end up in her being fired. Then what would she do? She had gotten the job only because of the recommendation from a journalism professor at Jefferson College who had once hailed Ryan as a visionary. Kali’s mom was a fellow professor and had finagled the recommendation out of him.

  If she lost this job, there was no way Kali could pull off that kind of nepotistic feat on her own. She would be lucky to waitress at the TGI Friday in Midtown Manhattan.

  For six glorious months so far, Kali had balanced on top of the world. From where she stood in the fourteenth floor conference room, the Lower East Side spread out before her, punctuated by a dozen other modern glass towers poking above the brown tenement buildings. They were all built right before the financial bust, but SunTech was the only one with its own wind-powered generator and water recycling system. Far to the left, the Williamsburg Bridge spanned the East River, pointing to the Brooklyn neighborhood where she lived.

  Kali was determined that the city wouldn’t beat her. She had to do well on this plaza redesign project.

  She decided to go out to reception to get a good look at Hunter Munro.

  ***

  Sidling up to a frosted glass partition, Kali peeked through the narrow clear strip below the sunburst SunTech logo.

  There he was. Dark hair, tanned skin, and nice broad shoulders. She could hear his laugh through the glass, and he seemed relaxed sitting in the chair closest to Lindy’s reception desk. Lindy was giggling self-consciously, touching her hair too much, chatting about a restaurant she had been to the night before.

  Suddenly Hunter turned and looked at Kali, meeting her eyes through the glass.

  She drew in her breath. Blue eyes. He had bright, piercing blue eyes framed by long black lashes and dark brows. She had expected his eyes to be dark, like the Latino he appeared to be. But even from ten feet away, she was struck by the vivid blue color.

  He stared intently at her, while Lindy kept chattering as if she hadn’t noticed anything.

  Kali forgot how to breathe, mesmerized by his hold on her through his eyes.

  Then she blinked and the spell was broken. Kali ducked down. She was being stupid, of course. He had seen her! And now he could see the shadow where she hunched behind the frosted glass.

  But nothing could make her look through the narrow chink in the glass again. Bent over, she turned and hurried down the hall to the conference room. She felt like a real idiot. But she couldn’t help herself. The way he had looked at her… almost as if he was reading her mind.

  Kali was so flustered that she didn’t tell her boss that Hunter Munro was waiting in reception. She tried to forget about it, so she would be relaxed when he came in. He had only seen her eyes—the rest of her had been hidden behind the frosted glass. He wouldn’t recognize her if she kept her cool.

  The senior executives arrived at the conference room, including Robert Ryan who was now pushing sixty and had an overwhelming passion for renewable energy that inspired everyone in his company.

  Before they called in the two artists, the proposals were discussed by the executives. Kali didn’t say a word. She took notes for Selina who led the discussion and was in charge of the project. Selina pushed Tami Han’s concept of wide bamboo planters that served as benches as being better suited to their building over Hunter Munro’s modernistic sundial design.

  “Bamboo is renewable,” Selina said, holding up the red folder. “And it will cast some shade on the plaza, which really needs it since we’re facing south.”

  “That’s why the sundial would work.” Ryan lifted the blue folder with Hunter’s proposal. “But I’d like to hear from the artists themselves.”

  Lindy showed in Tami Han and she looked just like her photo—a pretty Asian-American woman with an easy smile. Tami had plenty to say for herself and her “green design” and what she didn’t say, Selina said for her. Kali had to admit that the idea of islands of lacy bamboo forests sounded appealing. She could sit there and eat her lunch.

  Ryan asked a few questions, but the bulk of the discussion came from the CFO in regards to re-piping the plaza to water the bamboo in the giant planters. The dozen or so participants who were gathered around the table seemed to like the idea of bamboo. Kali didn’t see any reason why Mrs. Chapel, the Director of Human Relations, should be involved in making this decision, but Robert Ryan always made a big deal about how he liked to work from consensus. This project was tailor-made to bring his entire company together in one giant PR stunt, and they all seemed to like Tami Han.

  “I can work with her,” Selina said after Tami left the room. “She’s got an international appeal that we can parlay into overseas coverage.”

  Nods met this observation from around the oval table. Kali thought Selina was overly-pushy and domineering, but then again, her boss had been fighting her way through the New York corporate world for nearly twenty years so she probably knew what she was doing.

  “Hunter Munro,” Lindy announced as she opened the door.

  He was suddenly there, his eyes sweeping the room. Kali thought he hesitated a moment when he saw her.

  Selina went forward to greet him. “Welcome, Mr. Munro. We have a
seat for you here.”

  But Hunter just smiled and nodded to her, going straight to the man at the head of the table. “Mr. Ryan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I wanted to tell you how impressed I am with your work. I’m very proud to be a finalist for this project.”

  Kali watched along with the others as Hunter Munro shook hands with their founder. The sculptor knew a fair bit about SunTech and Robert Ryan, which he displayed as they chatted quietly for a few moments. Kali wanted to be cynical; she had seen enough of Selina’s maneuvers to know a practiced charmer when she saw one. But Hunter was so relaxed, wearing black jeans and a navy suit jacket, his curling hair in need of a cut. He didn’t fit the image of a slick self-salesman or a huckster trying to steal a buck. There was a distinct whiff of bad-boy about him, and she was sure he had at least one tattoo covered over by his business-casual clothes.

  Hunter worked his way around the table, shaking everyone’s hand. They were pleased, and showed it.

  When he got to Kali, her hand was in his before she knew it. It felt square and hard, a little rough like he worked with them a lot. And then she was looking into those remarkable blue eyes again.

  He recognized her.

  How could he not? The nerves in her hand seemed electrified, like a spark ran from his body through hers. His smile deepened at her reaction.

  “This is our copywriter, Kali Jones,” Selina was saying behind her.

  “We’ve already met,” Hunter said. His voice was low and confidential, as it had been with everyone.

  “You know each other?” Selina demanded. “How?”

  “We met in reception,” Hunter said.

  Selina dismissed that as irrelevant, and directed him to the empty seat at their end of the table. Kali sat down quickly, suddenly wishing the table was square so she could hide behind Selina. She was sure she was red in the face because the pressure was unbearable. But she tried to act like nothing had happened as she opened the blue folder and stared blankly down at Hunter’s graceful rendition of a sundial in geometric shapes—a triangular base, long spear for the dial, and round balls grouped in a semi-circle marking each number of the clock.

  Hunter noticed that they were all looking at the image in the folder. “That’s an old drawing. I brought a newer one for you to see.”

  He unzipped the black portfolio he was carrying. Selina protested, “I told you not to bring new materials. We have to consider each project on the same basis.”

  Hunter paused, the large painting half out of the portfolio. Looking down at Robert Ryan, he grinned. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t bring the clay model of the sundial. I was afraid it wouldn’t fit in the cab.”

  In the midst of general laughter, Hunter pulled out a striking watercolor of the blue-glass SunTech building. The concave front of the tower seemed to catch the light of the afternoon sun. In the front of the semi-circular plaza stood the dramatic slash of the sundial. Hunter had given the painting a low perspective, showing the dark purple shadow of the sundial crossing the bench that was labeled IV.

  Kali drew in her breath as did several others around the table. She had always liked the idea of a sundial.

  “I love it,” Mrs. Chapel said immediately. The plump forty-something woman was leaning forward eagerly. “The antiquity of a sundial is unexpected. It’s exactly what the architect intended when he put a 100-year-old fountain in front of our modern building.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from all of the women. Even Mr. Ryan was nodding, though not as enthusiastically. Were they looking at the painting or Hunter Munro?

  Hunter’s eyes met hers again for a moment, and Kali quickly glanced down at the proposal. She couldn’t breathe when he looked at her that way! But it wasn’t her fault; the others seemed just as enthralled by him. Including Larry, Mr. Ryan’s assistant.

  “Get Hunter an easel,” Selina ordered.

  Kali jumped up and went to pull out the easel from a narrow closet in the wall paneling. Hunter had certainly gotten around Selina easily enough. She wasn’t protesting his use of unauthorized materials anymore.

  On her way back, Kali checked the thermostat. It felt too warm in the conference room. But it was reading 78 degrees, as usual, and Ryan wouldn’t allow them to lower it any more than that.

  She set up the easel next to Hunter’s chair and took the watercolor from his hands without directly looking at him. She wasn’t going to turn into a giggly girl like Lindy. She was a professional and planned on making something of herself in this company. She wouldn’t let him get to her.

  As Hunter turned back, he knocked his pen off the table. It landed on the floor between his chair and the easel. He started to reach for it, but Kali was already bent over picking it up. Their heads came very close, so close that she was enveloped in his musky scent.

  “Good girl,” he murmured under his breath.

  She looked sharply him. He didn’t just say that!

  Selina was busy looking at the specs in the blue folder as if she hadn’t really considered them before. She acted like she hadn’t heard anything.

  Hunter took the pen from her slowly, so slowly that Kali had to look at him again. He was smiling at her, seeing her embarrassment. But there was approval in his eyes.

  Kali pulled back, feeling flustered.

  How dare he say that to me! Like I’m a trained collie or something.

  It didn’t get any better as she went and sat down. Her hips shifted in the seat, and now she was sure she was red.

  Maybe he meant it as a joke, but it wasn’t funny. It was completely inappropriate. Against all professional standards!

  Only one thought managed to rise through the emotions he had shaken and stirred with hardly any effort—Kali wasn’t going to let him see that he had gotten to her.

  Chapter 2

  Hunter smiled to himself. She picked up the pen. He knew she would. He could always tell a submissive when he saw one.

  Ms. Kali Jones was looking straight at him, her expression hard. Before that, she had been trying to avoid his eyes, but now she was apparently so affronted by his praise that she refused to back down, even if it was a completely silent war that was happening right in front of her coworkers.

  It was just the sort of fun that Hunter enjoyed the most. But right now he had more important things to deal with. He needed this job. Badly. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by a fine ass and a fiery disposition.

  But the girl did have a fine ass. Her skirt hugged her curves just right, and her heels were high enough to give a nice sway to her hips. He thought when he had glimpsed her peering through the glass, that she would be pretty, and he wasn’t disappointed. With her up-turned nose and sweetly curling lips, she was more cute than beautiful, but he liked that elfin look. Innocence could be a wonderful thing to play with, and she had that in spades. She may have been as young as her early twenties, but she would probably look youthful well into middle-age.

  Now is not the time… He dragged himself back to the priority at hand.

  “As you can see from this painting, your eye is drawn from the street up to the gorgeous concave curve of your facade,” Hunter explained. “Right now the fountain is too big, like a pyramid squatting on your front doorstep. It blocks the portico that runs along the first floor of the plaza, echoing that enticing inward curve. With a sundial, the art will work with the building in harmony instead of concealing it.”

  Hunter was glad to see that Selina Stern, the head of the PR department, was nodding along. Selina was the one who had called to let him know he was one of the finalists in the competition. She had told him that he beat out hundreds of other proposals.

  He wasn’t sure if Selina was on his side or not, but right now she was returning his easy smile. Selina was a stylish woman, packaged and polished, as if every detail had been considered carefully. People in publicity were always hard to read. They were experts at the smoke-and-mirrors game.

  “That is something to consider,” Selina told the
rest of the table. “The bamboo planters would hide the front of the building at the street level.”

  “Even more than the fountain does now,” Mrs. Chapel agreed. Hunter could tell Mrs. Chapel was on his side. He always did well with maternal, older women. She actually looked a bit like his mom with her plump cheeks and tired eyes.

  “The question is: do we want a forest maze or an open plaza in front of our building?” Robert Ryan asked from the top of the table.

  Hunter had seen the proposal that Tami Han had submitted, just as he had carefully examined all of the plans by his competition during the online contest. He had heard of Tami before they became finalists—she was part of the post-postmodern school in urban planning, using an organic and sincere approach in direct reaction to the destructive tendencies of postmodernism. Hunter had scrabbled his way up as outsider artist, and if anything, admired the meta-modernist architects who defied tradition and relied on the tension of transformation, finding the hidden beauty in something awkward or even ugly.

  Hunter had tried to get Tami to talk out in the reception room, but she was tight-lipped. She focused on large-scale corporate work, and made things that filled space in a harmonious way, rather than art that made you think. Bamboo was exactly what she would propose—a soothing green mass to balance the hard glass of the building, literally symbolizing Robert Ryan’s green roots. She was probably dying for a job right now, too, and she definitely had a much bigger nut to meet than Hunter did.

  “Your company is all about natural energy,” Hunter reminded Robert Ryan. “Your building faces south and should embrace the sun, not the shadows.”

  The others around the table were nodding. The CFO brought up the biggest line item of the budget—the cost for the raw bronze for the sundial and benches. But Hunter knew his stuff and could answer every question, from the comparative exchange rate if the casting was done in Canada vs. an American-made product. American-made won the day, as he had expected. It was quick work to clear up the last few questions of cost, including the fact that the plumbing for the fountain could be left under the plaza so they wouldn’t have to rip up the flagstones that were already laid down. They would only have to replace the ones under the fountain and remove the ones under the base of the individual benches and the sundial to install the anchors.