CHAPTER 1
“HAVE A BEER, Jace. Maybe that’ll wipe that somber look off your face,” Maggie said as she placed a cold draft on the bar in front of him.
Jace barely heard her as he thumbed through the stack of bills, adding figures on a nearby calculator.
Maggie put her elbows on the bar top directly in front of him, while leaning her upper body toward him. She definitely had his attention now but not in the way she wanted it. He was trying to figure out what exactly was keeping her breasts from falling out of her shirt and landing on the papers he had spread out on the bar.
‘Jace, you must be seriously lacking in your knowledge of women’s undergarments. Obviously, it’s been a while since you’ve seen or come in contact with any,’ he told himself.
Maggie was a voluptuous redhead and the best bartender in Bozeman. If he was honest, she was probably the best bartender in the entire state of Montana, but he wasn’t interested in her romantically. That fact didn’t stop her from reminding him every chance she got that she was definitely interested in him. Her attempts to get him into bed never ceased and had become the daily talk of the local patrons. Jace wasn’t too sure some of them hadn’t placed bets on when the momentous occasion might occur if and when he gave in and succumbed to her invitations.
All of their speculations were going to have to cease when he told her he had to let her go. He wouldn’t be able to pay her wages much longer if some miracle didn’t happen soon and he wasn’t a big believer in miracles. Not anymore.
He slid off the bar stool and stretched his long legs. He pushed the scattered bills and envelopes together, picked up the entire pile and told her, “I’m going to take this paperwork back to the office and then I’m heading for home.” As an afterthought, he tossed a request over his shoulder, “You and Mitch lock up, okay?”
“Sure thing, Boss Man,” Maggie told him. She watched him walk toward the back of the place, threading his way between the empty tables, and thought about the ever-present limp he had now. She knew it was a constant reminder of his injuries and affected every day of his life. It made her sad for him but she was certain it didn’t affect his manliness, if he would just let loose a little bit. ‘Nice backside, Boss,’ she thought as he walked away.
Jace flopped down in the office chair and re
ached for a second stack of bills and notices he’d been avoiding for weeks. He added them to the ones that arrived in today’s mail. Instead of sorting and deciding which ones were urgent and which ones could wait a few more weeks or months, he propped his boots on the desk and leaned back in the chair. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to wander back to the ‘glory days’ when money wasn’t a problem and there were no stacks of bills to think about. His face took on a peaceful look and he smiled, picturing in his mind the long trip he made to Texas to buy the two geldings he still owned. They were superior animals and he never regretted the trip or the purchase. He also remembered he paid cash for them. He sighed and thought how much things had changed. Now, he was concerned about feeding them and couldn’t even imagine a trip that long or paying that much for something.
The pain in his leg and hip reminded him this wasn’t the best position for his legs. He pushed the chair back, stood up and turned off the light. Tomorrow was another day and the bills could wait. It was time to go home and crawl into his bed, even if sleep would elude him, as it did almost every other night.
CHAPTER 2
CAMILLE HURRIED TO the kitchen to fill her travel mug before she left for her downtown office. She had scheduled an important staff meeting today and wanted to arrive early.
As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with her housemate, Will. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him, letting her eyes travel from the top of his head to the tips of his polished shoes.
“Well, what’s the occasion?” she asked, not hiding her surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up yet, let alone showered and dressed.”
He smiled a disarmingly crooked smile and kissed her cheek. “Do you think you’re the only one with important things to do today?”
She laughed at the question. Most days lately, Will had absolutely nothing to do. Since he decided he no longer wanted to work as a stock broker or whatever his title was at a brokerage firm, he’d been slouching around the house in a t-shirt and boxers every day.
“Well, I’ll give you this, Will. This look is much more attractive than the bedroom look you’ve been sporting every day for the last few months.”
“Awww, don’t kid me, Camille. You like my bedroom look. I just wish you’d let me show you that look…in my bedroom.”
“Keep dreaming,” she retorted. Filling her mug and realizing she really didn’t have the time to offer, she asked anyway, “Can I give you a ride somewhere?”
Will shook his head. “Nope. Someone is picking me up.”
***
Camille maneuvered her way through traffic to downtown St. Louis. She wished she hadn’t stopped to talk to Will. Now she was going to be late and that wasn’t her style. She hated it when employees were tardy for a meeting and she accepted no excuses from them. Somehow, she didn’t think talking too long with Will would be an acceptable excuse.
As she waited for a snarled traffic jam to break up, she had to admit Will was still a very handsome man and at fifty, he was in great physical shape. Having an employees’ gym inside the office building where he’d been employed was definitely a perk. She wondered how long he would stay in shape now that he didn’t have access to all those machines and obviously couldn’t afford a membership at a private venue or even the YMCA, for that matter. At least that’s what he told her when he said he couldn’t pay his half of the expenses on the townhouse they shared.
Camille wheeled her BMW into the spot reserved for her in the parking garage. Grabbing purse and briefcase, she practically ran to the doors. “Come on,” she hissed through clenched teeth at the elevator doors, while she tapped her foot…a habit she thought she had conquered, but when she was extremely impatient or nervous, it reappeared like a bad dream.
She stopped in her office, shed her jacket, traded flat shoes for a favorite pair of heels, grabbed a few reports off the desk and hurried to the conference room.
As she entered, all heads swiveled in her direction with a few people smirking while others were outright laughing.
She took a deep breath and returned the smiles. “Okay, let’s get it over with. Each of you gets 10 seconds to chastise me for being late. Considering I’m usually giving lectures on punctuality, I think that’s the fair thing to do. Who wants to start?”
Then she added, “Let me remind you whose signature is on your paychecks.”
After the banter subsided and everyone had weighed in on her excuse of a traffic jam, the meeting took on a serious tone.
“Jack, give us the distribution figures for last month’s issue of Mavis’ Mag. I’m already pretty sure I won’t like what I hear but let’s have it.”
Just as she suspected, the magazine’s readership was down again and subscription numbers were even worse. She closed her eyes as she listened to every report and thought she could see her great-grandmother, Mavis, rolling over in her grave. The women’s magazine was named after its founder, Mavis Morley, Camille’s great-grandmother. When the reins passed to Camille’s grandmother, it was a thriving publication. The next generation was Camille’s mother, who wanted no part of ownership of what she described as a sinking ship. Camille, being next in line, jumped at the chance to be at the helm. She was absolutely certain she could keep it afloat and even increase the subscriptions. That decision was aided by the fact she had no income at the time but an overabundance of youthful bravado.
She accomplished that goal for quite a few years, and even withstood a hostile takeover, but now she was fighting digital magazines and she knew she was slowly losing the battle.
Camille stood and paced around the oblong table. “Okay, obviously we need something of shock value…something that hasn’t been done before. It needs to be a subject or study or experience that will catch the attention of our readers as they stand in line at the grocery store.”