Close to You

understating matters. It was
unheard of for a huge corporate entity like Sin City to go outside
the biggie web design firms to a boutique shop like
Evolve.
    And Sin City was huge. They were
Amazon and Facebook combined but for all things sexual. Store,
blogs, chats, reviews, live video feeds—you name it. They even had
their own publishing branch that put out several magazines in
addition to a line of erotica for women. Compared to Sin City, the
Playboy empire looked like a business run out of someone's
garage. 
    "They didn't just choose Evolve,
Freya." Charles's blue eyes burned with the zeal he was renowned
for among his colleagues. His employees called it The Mania. "They
chose you."
    Because of the site she'd designed for
a local sex toy shop two years ago. Back before her creative juices
had dried up. "I understand, Charles."
    "I'm not sure you do. If you screw
this up, you're out of here."
    Her mouth fell open. It took a couple
tries before she could get any words out. "You can't fire me for
one bombed design."
    "I'm the boss. I can do whatever the
hell I want. Especially if one of my employees blows the biggest
opportunity this company has ever had." His eyes sparked with
dollar signs. "This is our opportunity to play with the big boys.
Maybe even go public. I won't let anyone screw it up."
    "But—"
    "And your work over the past year
hasn't been up to your usual standards. I know Marcus bailed you
out of the Accordiana job," he said bluntly.
    She cut off her protest. She couldn't
deny it—Marcus hadn't just helped her out with the design, he'd
taken the crap she'd come up with and turned it into
gold.
    "If you can't perform, I can't afford
to keep you. Just because you're Evangeline's best friend doesn't
mean I'm going to make allowances for you."
    "I can't lose my job." Her stomach
lurched at the thought.
    "Then I suggest you produce a design
they fall in love with." He snapped his suit coat straight and
turned to leave. At the door he looked over his shoulder. "I mean
it, Freya. Fuck this up and you're out of here."
    She winced as the door slammed shut.
She couldn't afford to lose her job. It wasn't that she cared about
herself—if she lost her paycheck she'd figure something out. But
she wouldn't be able to support her sister Anna through college,
and that wasn't acceptable. She'd vowed after the fallout from her
parents' accident that Anna would never have to compromise her
dreams like she'd had to. 
    That meant she had to produce a
kick-ass design.
    In the pit of her stomach she felt a
spasm of worry. She'd been off her game—she'd never felt such an
utter lack of creativity.
    She grabbed the notebook and opened it
to her ad. She crossed it out and wrote
     
    Artist in trouble.
HELP.
     
     
     
     
     
     
    And from Return to You (Laurel
Heights #3)...
     
    "You want me to what ?"
    Everett Parker would have smiled if he
were that kind of man. But he wasn't, so he patiently watched and
waited. He was excellent at waiting, and even better at getting
what he wanted.
    "This is a joke, right?" The young man
swept his hand through his hair. "Well, it's not funny."
    Leaning back in his leather chair,
Parker took a sip of his scotch before answering, aware of the
tension he was causing. "No joke, Michael. You heard correctly the
first time. I want you to shoot the film in Mill
Valley."
    "Shit." The director speared his
fingers through his hair again and started to pace.
    Parker nursed his drink, watching him
coolly. Once Michael's tantrum ran dry, he'd do what he was told.
After all, the terms of the offer would be irresistible.
    I'll make sure of
that.
    It was almost a shame he had to do
this. He admired the young man. Of all the people around him,
Michael Wallace was the only one who stood up to him. The rest of
them cowered in corners, peeing on themselves as he walked
by.
    He wasn't manipulated easily,
something Parker usually relished. At this moment, it irritated
him. He needed Michael's cooperation, but he'd never consent of his
own free will—meaning Parker was going to have to force him. Not
easy, but certainly not impossible. He just had to find the right
bargaining chip. "Sit down."
    Glaring, Michael dropped into the
guest chair. To his credit, he remained silent, though his heated
eyes said enough.
    Good
boy , Parker thought, feeling paternal pride
even though Michael wasn't tied to him in any way other than
business.
    Which was what he intended
to remedy. "You're the hottest director in the