Changing the Rules Read online

  Changing the rules

  by

  Sindee Lynn

  EBOOK EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Passionate Writer Publishing

  www.passionatewriterpublishing.com

  Changing the Rules

  Copyright © 2010 by Sindee Lynn

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  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 person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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  This book is also available for purchase in paper back. Visit www.passionatewriterpublishing.com or your favorite book store.

  ISBN 13 978-0-9843504-5-2

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  Chapter 1

  “Hold the elevator please.”

  Sasha Jordan called out as she came through the revolving doors of Presco Financial. Her heels clicked across the marble covered entryway as she rushed towards the elevators.

  “Please hold the doors,” she called again but it was barely a whisper.

  Her heart was pounding in her ears from her walk, which had been more of a run, across the largest parking lot she’d ever seen. Her interview was in less than twenty minutes and she could not be late. The doors whooshed closed just as she got to them.

  “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath.

  She fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. It would only cause more pain to her already aching feet. All she longed for was to find somewhere to sit down and catch her breath but she couldn't afford the luxury. A scream of frustration built at the back of her throat. Things had been going wrong since she’d woke to the ringing of the phone. Mistaking it for her alarm clock she’d reached out and swatted at it absently. When it didn’t stop she’d shot straight up in bed. It had been non stop since her feet had hit the floor. It was definitely not how she’d planned the day going when rehearsing it in her head. In all of the checking and double checking last night, not once had it dawned on her to make sure her alarm was set. If it hadn’t been for her sister, B.J., calling to wish her good luck she’d probably still be sleeping.

  Ding… She looked up to see the elevators doors whoosh open once again.

  “Oh thank God.”

  Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, Sasha stepped inside and pushed the button for her floor before retreating to one corner of the elevator. She took a few precious moments to regain some control over her errant thoughts and to get back into the zone. A few more mumbled confidence builders and she was headed back to the happy place where she was supposed to be. Sure things hadn't gone as planned but that was in the past. She was well on her way to obtaining the job of her dreams and no other reality mattered. A smile broke free as a sense of calm came upon her for the first time since she’d bounded out of bed.

  In control once more, she began looking for the business card with her interviewer’s name on it within the confines of her soft leather briefcase. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, she blew out a puff of air and with it went her happy place. Was anything going to go as it should today? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Okay girl you have got to pull it together. Just because things started out rocky and don’t appear to be getting any better and everything that can go wrong is going wrong and … Sasha paused in her mental ramblings and lifted her head slowly. What was that smell? Breathing deeply once more, she barely had time to catch herself before a sigh of extreme pleasure passed her lips. It had to be coming from somewhere in the elevator. Glancing around she found the source quickly in the only other occupant in the elevator with her. Wow. How could she have missed him? He looked to be over six feet tall with wavy dark brown hair. His attention was facing forward which offered her an excellent view of his perfect profile. His hair came over his forehead, just barely touching his eyebrows, straight nose and perfectly sensuous lips. A strong jaw line led into the most perfectly shaped man’s chin. She wondered if it had a cleft. She’d always been a sucker for a cleft since she’d seen her first Michael Douglas movie. The casual way he leaned against the elevator wall spoke volumes. Not a care in the world. Here was a man who appeared to be very much in control of what was going on around him. Her gaze moved down to the strong set of his shoulders and the way his suit jacket fit perfectly over them, had to be tailored and expensive. It reeked of money. As if feeling her gaze upon him, the man in question turned his head to glance in her direction, a small smile on his face. Sasha’s face flamed with embarrassment and she turned away quickly.

  God girl get out much, she scolded herself. You act as if you’ve never seen a man before. Her spine stiffened at the internal insult. She made an effort to pull her mind back to the task at hand. The job which had brought her here this morning. And it wasn’t just any old job. It was what she’d been working for all these years and with one of Chicago’s most well known banking institutions. That’s what she needed to remember and stop drooling over some random stranger in an elevator who she would more than likely never see again. So no matter how good looking he is. She snuck a peek at him from under her lashes. Or how absolutely gorgeous he looked leaning against that wall. She needed to focus on the task at hand. But damn what she wouldn't give to know if he looked as good out of clothes as he did in them. And those hands, which were clenching and unclenching at his side. Clench. Release. Clench. Release. Her cunt muscles began to move in rhythm with his fingers. Her stomach tightened with each clench as her body reacted. Her breathing became ragged as she tried to regain control but thoughts of how much she wanted to feel the roughness of those hands graze against her sensitive skin took over. Her breathing faltered over an image of herself lying on her soft Egyptian sheets writhing in pleasure as the hands of this man moved slowly up the inside of her parted thighs. She could almost feel those fingers caressing areas long neglected. Her gaze traveled back up to his side profile. Something safer than those dangerous hands hanging at his sides. She blinked. Though his head remained face forward she could feel his eyes upon her. Oh there was definite interest. Not knowing where the strange emotions taking control were coming from, Sasha raised her head and stared openly at the man across from her. There was no way she could hide the heat in her gaze. She typically wasn’t this bold but it was as if she couldn't help herself. Slowly he turned in her direction. The slanted grin on his face told her he’d known she was watching him. And he knew the reason. He was even better looking than she’d initially thought from his profile. The heat in the gaze staring back at her had her pulse and heart rate competing to see which could beat the fastest. She was barely able to stand there and allow his appreciative gaze to roam over her from head to toe. Sasha couldn't help but wonder what he saw.
As much as she wanted him to see a voluptuous and sexy African–American woman in front of him, she had to be honest. With her petite stature, standing a little under five feet five inches with barely a handful of breasts, she was certain voluptuous was not the first words that came to mind when looking at her.

  Her stranger took a step in her direction and she stopped breathing. His hand reached out towards her. All she could do was stand there. Everything was moving in slow motion as she waited holding her breath in anticipation of his touch.

  “Umm excuse me. I believe this is your floor.”

  Sasha’s eyes snapped open. She looked around trying to get her bearings. Her shocked gaze immediately flew to the man still leaning against the elevator wall across from her. Embarrassment clogged her throat as she stumbled from the elevator without a backwards glance or a word of thanks. She walked unsteadily down the hall. What the hell had just happened? One minute she’d been looking at him and the next…? What? Had it all been her imagination? His look of interest? His reaching out to her? Her head was reeling from all the odd emotions moving through her. What had come over her? She had forgotten everything else around her. She paused and took a deep calming breath. It took a moment for her to quiet her rampant thoughts, but finally blessed silence reigned. There was no need to dwell on what was now in the past. It was over. It was just a momentary… a momentary… Oh God what did she call it. She wracked her brain but still came up empty. So she grabbed for what she knew for certain…. The reason she was here. She just needed to remember what had brought her here this morning. Yeah just remember why you are here, she told herself firmly. The job. But no sooner had her brain reached for that one small piece of sanity, than a vivid image of the man from the elevator invaded her thoughts. There had been something about him drawing her to him. Something calling to her deep down in the pits of her being. The thought was dismissed with a shake of her head. The idea was completely absurd. He was nowhere close to being her type. Sasha Jordan did not do white men. It was her number one rule.

  Placing her briefcase carefully on the large vanity, she gripped the sides of the sink and practiced several deep breathing exercises. She knew she was wasting precious minutes she didn’t have but she felt if she didn’t regain control now all would surely be lost for her interview. When she felt more herself, she raised her head to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Her lipstick was all but gone and a sheen of perspiration dotted her forehead. She looked flustered. Placing her hands to her cheeks, they were hot to the touch. It had to be due to her earlier sprint across the parking lot. What other reason could it possibly be? She carefully avoided making eye contact with her reflection, sure the lie would be written clearly in the brown gaze staring back at her. When she was sure she could meet her own gaze once more, she turned her attention to repairing the damage done to her appearance. She brought her hand to her hair, which was pulled back in a severe twist against the nap of her neck secured by a large clip. She absently smoothed invisible strands back in place. There was a slight trembling in her fingers. It had to be just a few nerves over her pending interview. Glancing at her watch instead of into the mirror where the truth would be reflected, she realized she was quickly running out of time before her interview. Her rule of being there at least fifteen minutes early had already been blown. The best she could hope for now was to be on time. She quickly touched up her make-up and took a step back to study what she saw. She tried to imagine what her interviewer would see upon first sight.

  For her interview she had chosen a navy blue pants suit with a matching jacket that had been nipped and tucked to fit her petite figure perfectly. Blue was one of her favorite colors and complimented her caramel coloring. She’d paired it with a cream colored silk blouse. The outfit was one of many others in her closet. These were what she considered her power suits. A pair of medium heels rounded out her outfit. It was just a good thing she’d had the forethought to gather her things last night.

  Putting her make-up away she caught her reflection again. People had always told her she looked much younger than her thirty-five years with her hair down therefore she typically wore it as it was now. Being petite in stature, at barely five feet four inches in height, was disadvantage enough. She didn’t need anything else, like a youthful appearance, to undermine a client’s confidence in her ability to do her job. But nothing about this day had gone as planned so she wasn’t really surprised when she removed her clip and ran her fingers through the many tiny braids adorning her head. The curls from the previous weekend were still there and she had to admit it definitely looked prettier down. But she was going for full on confident today especially given all the slip ups which had occurred this morning so far. She pulled her hair back preparing to secure it once again at the base of her neck, when she suddenly released it. As she ditched her clip at the bottom of her briefcase and arranged her hair she told herself it had nothing to do with the possibility of meeting her elevator man in the halls of Presco. Her hand stilled. How had her thoughts suddenly gone to him? She didn’t have time for this and refused to think of him any longer. After giving herself the final once over she closed her eyes and attempted to center her mind on the task at hand. Things may not have started off as planned but all was not lost. Her dream job was within her reach and she would not be walking out of this building without it. Sasha’s eyes snapped open. She was glad to see the confident gaze of the African-American woman who normally resided within her body finally make an appearance.

  She turned her attention to the task of locating the business card with the information regarding her interviewer on it. It would definitely not make a good first impression if she didn’t know the person’s name. Ah, there it was. Michael Shaunessy, Director of Finance, Presco Financial.

  “Well, Mr. Shaunessy, I hope you are ready because I am definitely ready for this job,” she told her reflection before turning to leave.

  Her stride was confident as she walked down the hall towards her destination. A soft smile lingered at her lips. Calm had finally come back to her and man was she glad. No longer were thoughts of a tall well muscled man invading her mind. Her step faltered slightly as her brain brought an image of the man in question to the forefront. She wondered if he worked in the building. Yeah, he works in the mailroom. Now get your head back to the business at hand, she told herself firmly as she approached the receptionist’s desk outside of the director’s office.

  “Good morning. May I help you?” asked the young woman sitting behind the desk.

  Eyeing the receptionist skeptically, Sasha managed to return her smile. The young lady at the desk was wearing a form-fitting pink blouse with a V-neck that plunged well below what could be considered business attire. The globes of her voluptuous breasts pushed against the confines of the blouse. It took everything within her not to glance down at her own less than impressive chest. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why she had more than likely been hired. She probably couldn't even type, Sasha thought a little cattily. The genuine smile on the woman’s face made her feel immediate shame for her thoughts. Maybe she was a relative. There was nothing wrong with a little nepotism.

  “Yes, I have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Shaunessy. My name is Sasha Jordan.”

  “Yes Ms. Jordan there has been an unexpected change in your interview. I tried to reach you this morning before you left home but I wasn’t able to.”

  She briefly recalled the phone ringing as she’d been speed racing through her morning routine. She’d figured it was merely one of her other friends calling to offer support and had ignored it. Now she wished she’d taken the time to at least look at the caller id. Maybe she’d been calling to reschedule and this whole horrible morning might never have happened. And miss the chance to meet Mr. Elevator Man? Her mind questioned. No way. She ignored it and focused on what else was being said.

  “Mr. Shaunessy is unexpectedly out of the office today. So your interview will
be held on the forty-second floor. Once you exit the elevators, go to the end of the hall and check in with the secretary there and she will assist you.”

  Hmph. Okay so she would have her interview after all.

  “Thank you,” She replied absently.

  As she walked away, the soft rhythm of clicking keys sounded from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the receptionist’s fingers flying over the keyboard. A smile broke free as she walked back down the hallway to the elevators. Her friend, Caitlyn, was always telling her to stop being such a snob and so quick to judge people. Especially when it came to women with bigger breasts than hers.

  Entering the elevator, she glanced around and wondered if this was the same one from earlier. Against her will she inhaled deeply. Her breath left her in a deep sigh. Was he still in the building? Had he been on his way to meet someone? An image of a woman equally as beautiful as the man she was thinking of came to mind. An immediate frown puckered her brow. Maybe he was meeting his wife. Or his mistress. Sasha shook her head to clear the thoughts. There was no time to be wasting with errant thoughts of a man she would never see again. If she wanted to think about a man, she should be thinking about her neighbor, Louis Wainwright.

  For months she’d been waiting for him to spare her more than a friendly wave from the other side of the street. Their hurried conversation from this morning came back to her. Dammit she wished she’d had time to lay some more ground work but there had just been no time. Of all the mornings for him to decide to come across the street. Irritation flashed across her face before she let it go. In his defense he hadn't known she’d been running late and obviously her hints hadn't worked either. Nor apparently put him off if the look of interest when he’d waved bye was anything to go on. Now there was husband potential and if she played her cards right. Sasha hunched her shoulders. Who knew what could happen. But leaning against the wall of the elevator, the image pushing its way to the forefront was not that of Louis but of “him”. She couldn't help but recall how his eyes had sparkled with an unreadable expression when he had informed her they were on her floor. Had she imagined it or had she heard him release a sigh as she’d been leaving? She closed her eyes and could almost smell his cologne.