Ditching The Dream (Dream Series) (47 page)

T
he limo pulled up to the house that served as Greg’s company’s place of business. Elizabeth tugged the belt of her coat tight around her waist, and exited as elegantly as she could in the four inch heels. It was late April in Napa, and a trench coat wasn’t out of the question, but with the current dry spell, she may get a few raised eyebrows.

Just a few steps inside, she was greeted by an ambitious young secretary. No doubt her parents had spent tens, or even hundreds of thousands of dollars on her education, and all she could land was a job as a secretary in what was notably one of the most successful hedge funds in the region. Sad really.

“Good afternoon. Mrs. Fairchild to see Mr. Fairchild.”

“Good afternoon,” the young thing replied. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Let me rephrase that. Please reschedule Mr. Fairchild’s meetings for the remainder of the afternoon, as well as the next two days. You may say he’s come down with something.”

Elizabeth scanned the small elegantly appointed space and spied the door she was looking for. A shiny brass placard engraved with
GREGORY FAIRCHILD.
She turned and winked at the young secretary and marched in the direction of the door.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the shiny handle and stepped inside, swiftly closing the door behind her. Greg was sitting facing away from the door with files opened on his lap, his Bluetooth blinking in his ear, and staring out the window. He didn’t even notice the door opening or closing.

“Aaron. We’ve been over this one hundred and eight times. Will a one hundred and ninth really make a difference?” He ran his hand through his hair and tossed the folder onto the desk. That was when he spotted her.

“Look, Aaron, I have an unexpected meeting. I’m going to have to call you back,” he mumbled, clearly stunned. He pressed a small button on the side of the Bluetooth device, then pulled it from his ear and dropped it unceremoniously on the desk.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, startled, his eyes darting to the door behind Elizabeth. “Why didn’t you call to tell me you were on your way home? I would have tried to meet your plane.”

Slowly, she untied the belt and took measured steps toward the desk. A smile spread across her face, knowing the wickedness she was about to unleash. Greg started to sweat. He had an inkling as to what she was doing, but she couldn’t be serious! Could she? This was his office for Christ’s sake.

The belt unknotted, she pulled the coat open and let it slide down her arms, landing in a heap on the floor. And there she stood. Five-foot-ten, alabaster skin, covered in only a hot pink lace bra, matching panties, and garter belt strung with lacy thigh-high black stockings.

“Elizabeth. What in God’s name are you doing?” He bolted from behind his desk and scooped up the coat from the floor. “Someone could walk in here at any minute! What has gotten into you?”

“I came to water the grass,” she said, a smirk solidly stuck on her face.

“What grass? Why are you talking in riddles? I have a meeting in five minutes. Didn’t Morgan tell you that?” Greg tried to cover Elizabeth with the coat she’d let drop, but he fumbled mercilessly, only making a more tangled creation of what he’d picked up off of the floor.

“I recently heard some sound advice.
The grass is always greener where you water it.
I’m home to
water the grass.
I’ve booked the honeymoon suite at the Embassy Suites. I’ve just asked
Morgan
to reschedule your afternoon and the next two days. I’ve packed a suitcase, it’s in the limo waiting outside. The next move is yours.”

She took the coat from Greg’s hands and shook it out, then draped it over her arm. Propping her other hand on her hip, she regarded him closely. She could see the cogs in his brain working. It was painful. Did he think it was easy to stand in his office nearly naked?

He tried to look at her body, however found himself staring at everything but, and becoming flustered.

“I told the driver we’d only be a few minutes,” she cautioned.

“Um. Okay,” Greg stammered.

Elizabeth held out her arm, offering the coat to Greg. He took it and managed to help her slide into it gracefully. She knotted the belt, then took Greg’s arm and guided them out of the office and back into the reception area.

“Um, Morgan, I – ah –”

“Yes, Mr. Fairchild. I hear you’ve come down with
something.
I will take care of your calendar. See you in a couple days.”

Elizabeth wanted to turn back and see the girl’s expression, but thought better of it and exited the establishment proudly on her husband’s arm.

This had to work. It just had to.

The End.
*

*Want to know what Jack is thinking? Go to
www.IsabellePeterson.com
, click on the DREAM SERIES tab and scroll down. You will see a photo of “Jack” where you can click and get his final Point Of View passage.

XoxoX – Izzy

Book 2 in the Dream Series

Spring 2014

When Phoebe gets an internship on the set of a major network in New York – job of a lifetime…. but she’s snubbed at every turn – after all, she’s only an intern. When she’s assigned to assist the pain-in-the-ass mega-star, Chase Smythe, Phoebe feels like it’s the prize of all prizes! She’s loved Chase since she was nine, and he was the star of the show, “Brad Blonde”, a pre-teen parody version of James Bond. Turns out, fame has not been kind to Chase – his look stayed in tact, but he was full of himself, cocky and lazy… and it’s showing in the ratings too – his popularity dwindling – which only amplifies his bad boy ’tude.

After a wrap party, the two hook up for wild, mind blowing (and drunk) sex. Chase is distant and stand-offish the next day. Phoebe’s ashamed but cannot quit. For one, she won’t let him “win” and for two she loves the job.

But we can’t forget Mike, Phoebe’s boyfriend. Well, ex. He finds Phoebe in New York and makes it clear he’s going to fight for her.

When Chase
chooses
Phoebe to be his Production Assistant at an on a location filming, is this the start of a real romance? Or will Chase live up to his reputation?

Isabelle Peterson is my pen-name. I have no formal training in writing. I’ve studied Advertising Design & Illustration, and earned a Bachelors of Science in Behavior Psychology. I’ve worked in the public schools, been a waitress in establishments from burger and beer joints to high end steak and wine establishments, and been a realtor. But since high school, I’ve come up with stories. I wanted to be a screenwriter, but took my parents advice to study something more ‘marketable.’ Before I turned forty, I decided that I didn’t need approval from my parents and refocused my attention to writing, with my husband’s blessing and encouragement. I have been writing screenplays under my real name since then. I met a few authors on Facebook, I helped them with their stories and they encouraged me to try and write a one of my own… So I did. And here we are.

I married young, and have been happily married to my husband, ‘Marcus,’ for more than twenty years. Together we have two terribly talented teen-aged children and live near New York City.