Читать книгу Between The Sheets - Jeanie London, Jeanie London - Страница 7

To: Wilhemina Knox (mailto:president@luxuriousbedding.com)

Date: 3 Mar 2003 07:59:54-0500

Subject: Effective Stress Management

Install glory holes in the employees’ bathroom stalls for a low-cost method of stress management!

Studies prove that the regular release of sexual tension contributes to the effective management of work-related stress, improving overall mental and physical performance. Condom dispensers located beside tissue holders will adequately meet all OSHA standards and state health requirements.

“Glory holes, hmm?” April Stevens frowned down at the hard copy of an e-mail post. She’d never heard of a glory hole, much less seen one, but she had no trouble grasping the concept. Or imagining the protruding body parts and variety of sex acts that might be performed through one.

As an investigative researcher for J.P. Mooney Investigators, Ltd., the premier agency in the Dallas area, April had witnessed a variety of oddball human behaviors during her eight-year tenure. The recommendation of glory holes in bathroom walls as a way to relieve work-related stress was a definite first.

Scanning the e-mail header, she noted the address and glanced back at her boss. He sat behind his desk, primed and ready for her reaction, as though he’d sensed sex was the very last thing in the world she wanted to think about right now.

But her boss wasn’t a mind reader, so she cocked a hip against the edge of his desk and gave nonchalance a stab. “Did someone send this post to Wilhemina as some sort of joke? I can’t imagine she found it funny. It’s…well, raunchy.”

John Patrick Mooney steepled his fingers before him and grinned a grin that April imagined had stopped quite a few hearts some thirty-odd years earlier. An undeniably attractive man in his sixties with knife-creased features, steely gray hair and piercing black eyes, he had this whole I’ve-seen-it-all-and-lived-to-tell attitude that people often found intimidating. The grin softened his appearance considerably.

Not that he needed softening for April. Not at all. Years ago John and Paula, his wife, had opened their home to April. And she’d worked for John in some capacity since her junior year in high school—the year her search for her birth parents had introduced her to the world of private investigation. A world that had fascinated her enough to go into the field herself.

She’d convinced him she’d be an asset to his team despite her youth. He’d been insightful enough to give her a chance to prove herself. During her years with the company, she’d worked her way up from an administrative assistant to her current position as investigative researcher. While John Patrick Mooney might intimidate some people with his hard stare and deadpan expression, he didn’t intimidate April. She’d seen up close what a fair and even kindhearted man he could be.

“It is raunchy,” he said. “And you’re right. My sister-in-law didn’t find it remotely funny.”

April could well imagine. Professionalism was the end-all and be-all of Wilhemina’s world. She was a woman who’d forged a corporate career for herself during a time when executive management positions were filled by men through the good-old-boys’ network.

Wilhemina had chosen career over marriage and made no apologies, which meant that at holidays she showed up at John’s house to commune with family. This also meant that she and April were kindred spirits because April had attached herself to the Mooney family, too.

“Why did Wilhemina send this?” she asked. “What’s up?”

“This post isn’t the only one to come across the Luxurious Bedding Company’s computer network.” Reaching across his desk for the copy of the e-mail post, John held it up between them. “It’s one of over six dozen.”

“Oh my.” An image of the proposed glory hole sprang to mind and April shook her head to clear it. “All to Wilhemina?”

“No, she’s only one of the recipients. Someone is stalking employees at corporate headquarters with similar posts on a variety of, er, diverse topics. They’re showing up in the different departments—executive management, operations, sales, human resources, even the warehouse.”

“Suggestive e-mails popping up during business hours.” She gave a short laugh. “I’ll bet that makes for an interesting day on the job.”

“No joke. Wilhemina said the place has been bedlam. And the timing couldn’t be worse. She’s preparing to launch the Sensuous Collection. It’s a high-profile launch and a risky time for the company. These posts are distracting the employees from their work. ‘Sex on the brain’ is the way she described it.”

April would just bet. Whether a person was offended or titillated by the idea of what two employees might do with a stall wall and a cleverly positioned hole between them, one thing was clear—that person would be thinking about sex.

And thinking about sex was exactly what April didn’t want to do. She couldn’t afford a case of sex on the brain right now. No way. No how.

“The Sensuous Collection?” She urged John to get on with his point so she could figure out why he was telling all this to her. “Didn’t Wilhemina tell me at Christmas that the reason she accepted this presidency was to get the company back on its feet after they crashed with the Cuddly, Cozy Winter Collection?”

Let your nights be about more than sleep, she’d recited the jingle to April over eggnog. Get cuddly and cozy with our Cuddly, Cozy Winter Collection.

A seemingly clever marketing campaign for a collection of sheet sets that should have translated into public recognition, huge sales and a solid bottom line. However this particular marketing campaign had proven so cuddly and cozy that consumers complained the advertisements had gone too far to promote the sensuality of their product. Morality groups had protested and the backlash against the Luxurious Bedding Company had resulted in the company’s reorganization. Not to mention earning a defining nickname for the mattresses, bedding and sheet sets.

The Lusturious Bedding Company.

April remembered John telling Wilhemina she was crazy to take on a company in the throes of consumer condemnation. The board had thrown out the former president for getting them into such a mess. But Wilhemina had waxed poetic about the challenges and argued that she had a blowout strategy to turn the disapproval rating around by capitalizing on their new image.

“Is the Sensuous Collection Wilhemina’s blowout strategy?”

John nodded. “It’s a line of luxury bedding that will compete with the European manufacturers, who apparently dominate the market. She’s hooked up with a high-ticket marketing consultant to help capitalize on their lusturious image.”

“Is someone unhappy with the plan? Is that why they’re stalking the employees with these sorts of posts?”

“The posts are being generated in-house at corporate headquarters.”

“Oh.” A disgruntled employee then. “Where do you fit in? Can’t security track down the stalker with the network administrator’s help? Shouldn’t be that difficult.”

“Apparently that’s not the case.” He set the e-mail post back on the desk and lifted his black gaze. “The posts are originating from computers all over headquarters, forwarding files to everyone in the address book.”

She whistled. “That must generate a ton of traffic. I don’t imagine it’s feasible for the administrator to monitor all the posts.”

“It’s not. Wilhemina tried curtailing network activity in various departments to give the administrator a chance to track the problem posts, but every time activity slows down, the stalker stops sending the raunchy posts completely.”

“So our suspect is operating on the same premise as a computer worm or a virus. Very clever, really.” Good, bad or otherwise, April appreciated resourcefulness when she saw it. “What files get forwarded?”

“Mainly information dealing with the Sensuous Collection, which has raised the issue about whether these posts are meant to obstruct the collection’s launch.”

“You’re talking about corporate espionage?”

“It’s a concern. Selling details about the Sensuous Collection could translate into big bucks if a rival manufacturer introduces a competing product line before the Luxurious Bedding Company launches. Wilhemina has turned the problem over to in-house security to conduct an internal investigation.”

“Has she asked you for advice on the investigation?”

John tapped his fingers on the desktop and met her gaze thoughtfully before answering. “The investigation is pretty clear-cut. The only thing they can do is eliminate their employees one by one. This isn’t a mom-and-pop organization. While it’s not Fortune 500, the Luxurious Bedding Company is large with the opportunity for spectacular growth if this collection takes off like the projections indicate.”

Which still wasn’t explaining why John was holding on to that post. April must have looked confused because he said, “Wilhemina’s got a rogue element—a high-ticket independent marketing consultant. Rex Holt’s his name.”

“Never heard of him.” And she’d prefer to keep it that way. She didn’t need to be thinking about any man on a list of suspects who had the potential to get his jollies from stalking an entire company with the kind of posts she’d just read.

Not at this particular time in her life, at any rate. “If he’s independent can’t she just replace him? She’d eliminate one suspect from the equation.”

“He’s not a suspect.”

“No?”

“Wilhemina has worked with him a number of times before when she was running Duval Foods International. She doesn’t think he has anything to do with the posts or corporate espionage. She’s so sure that she’s betting her career on it.”

That was saying something. “Yow.”

“Yow is right,” John agreed. “She’s got a mess on her hands. The board of directors is understandably edgy after being burned with the Cuddly, Cozy Winter Collection and they’re pushing to opt out of their big bucks contract with this guy. Wilhemina says it’s way too close to the launch to bring in another independent consultant and she needs Rex Holt to pull off this launch. Apparently he’s big potatoes.”

“If she’s so convinced her big spud isn’t guilty, what’s worrying the board?”

“Aside from the fact that Holt is the only one besides Wilhemina who has free run of the company at every level from operational to executive management, he also has means and opportunity. He consulted for a competitor a few years back. Wilhemina believes his past experience in the industry is working to their benefit but the board thinks it means loyalty to a rival manufacturer. Given the fact that he’s out-of-house, I see their point. The guy’s positioned to do a lot of damage.”

“Do you think Wilhemina’s made a mistake?”

“I’ve been married to her sister for thirty-five years. Trust me, that one doesn’t miss a trick.” He shook his head decidedly. “But even so, I’ve been looking into this guy’s history the past few days and Holt’s MO doesn’t jive by a long shot. He’s got references up the wazoo and he’s considered one of the top marketing consultants nationwide. Big-name corporations are lined up for his services.”

“Then she wants you to find out who’s sending these posts?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Wilhemina has decided to buck the board on this but she’s up against a time limit. Holt will be moving his base of operations out of corporate headquarters to conduct marketing studies around the country. She needs to cover her ass—and his, too—while he’s out on the road. This is where we come in.”

We. That one word and the way John leveled a steely gaze her way shot April’s internal alarm system into the red zone. “But you just said her in-house security is investigating and they’ve exhausted the computer angle.”

“I’m pulling you off the computer.”

April knew what was coming next and launched into evasive maneuvers to avoid yet another lecture about how twenty-five-year-old women should be out living life, rather than viewing it through a flat-screen computer monitor.

“I’m an investigative researcher, remember? I’m supposed to work behind a computer.”

“You’re an investigator. You call yourself a researcher, but I don’t have researchers on my payroll. Only investigators.”

“But that’s what I do. I investigate through the computer. Some agencies would call me an information specialist.”

“You work for my agency, April. I employ investigators who can work behind a computer and in the field.”

Could she help it that she was more comfortable with binary and circuitry than she was with English and humans?

John heaved a sigh that drove the alarm indicator in her head right off the gauge. The man was gearing up for an argument. She recognized the raised brows, the stiff neck and the squared shoulders as surely as if the word A-R-G-U-M-E-N-T had been tattooed across his forehead.

She took a judicious step back. Unfortunately, her sweater caught the edge of his in-box as she did. John came halfway out of his chair in a vain attempt to catch it, but the whole tray toppled off the desk with a clatter.

“No, no, don’t get up,” she said, sinking to her knees to collect the scattered papers. “I’ve got them.”

She could feel his gaze on her as she gathered the various documents and envelopes and quickly restacked them. By the time she returned the tray to his desk, her cheeks were hot and John was watching her with an expression of resignation that only made her blush burn hotter.

Backing away to minimum safe distance, she took a calming breath and another crack at appearing nonchalant. But John still looked resigned, which meant he wasn’t buying her act.

“Do you know what a nibbie is, April?”

A nibbie? Definitely not the question she’d expected. A change of tactic, then, so he could try to make his case for getting her off the computer. “Yes.”

“Would you mind explaining the term to me?”

“Nibbies are teeny-tiny tufts of fabric that ball up on sheets. It’s a casual term. You might have heard them called piles or pills.”

He shook his head. “These…nibbies are a big deal?”

“To some people, I guess.”

“Well, I suppose that fits. Wilhemina made a point of saying that whoever I sent needed to know what a nibbie was. She called me obtuse when I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about.”

Under any other circumstances April would have smiled at John’s indignation. Most people wouldn’t consider calling the man anything but sir. Then again, most people weren’t his wife’s sister, a formidable woman who was more than up to the task of handling her sister’s equally formidable husband. But April couldn’t even rally a grin. She’d walked right into this one.

“Sort of like the Princess and the Pea,” he said, grinning at his own cleverness, which in April’s mind only supported the accusation of obtuseness.

She only shrugged, afraid to open her mouth and step in any further. Personally, she couldn’t see what the big deal was. She’d never noticed whether she slept on sheets with nibbies or not. The only time she was horizontal in a bed was when she was fast asleep, unconscious of nibbies, piles or pills. Unconscious enough to be unaware of anything else that might take place in a bed, either.

He leveled that steely gaze on her. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a good bead on the subject. You’re the right person for this case.”

“And what exactly is this case?”

“Inside surveillance.”

A moment passed before she managed to speak past the alarm shrieking in her head. “Inside surveillance? You want me to go…undercover?”

“As Rex Holt’s in-house marketing assistant.”

Undercover? A laugh sprang unbidden to her lips, along with a denial that she managed—barely—to squelch before it actually popped out of her mouth. Good thing, too, because butting heads with John would only make him dig in his heels.

She started to pace. She didn’t sit still well on the best of days, but with John springing fieldwork, no, undercover fieldwork on her…

Glancing at the most recent Mooney family portrait that included a stoic John, a smiling Paula, their daughters, sons-in-law and seven grandchildren, she clasped her hands behind her back and forced herself not to pace, although the urge to move was physical.

She was manic at the best of times but when she got nervous…April Stevens aka April Accidentally had learned to curtail her actions rather than risk knocking anything else off John’s desk, or heaven forbid, the étagère, which housed all sorts of sentimental items.

John knew more about her than anyone on this planet. Surely he could be reasoned with. “Wow, real undercover work,” she forced herself to say lightly. “Why don’t you take the case? You live to go out in the field and it’s been a good year since you’ve gotten out of this office.”

“Aside from the fact that I don’t know a damned thing about nibbies, I promised my wife that I’d get you out from behind the computer. She said you’ve been holing up since you and Jeff broke up. She thinks you’re pining.”

“I’m not pining.”

Man, she should have known she’d wind up back here despite diversionary tactics. The planets must be aligned, because short of quitting her job and moving to Canada, April couldn’t seem to avoid John and Paula’s attempts to force her to get social.

“I appreciate the concern, John, but what is it you don’t understand about hard work? I like working hard. I’m good at my job. Where’s the problem?”

“You’re good at the computer end of your job. You don’t have enough experience in the field. And like Paula pointed out, you need to make time for a life.”

“I have a life. A good one. You know how active I am in the adoption society—”

“More time spent behind the computer.”

“If memory serves, I just took off a morning last week to attend the preschool graduation of one of your little rug rats.”

“A real life. You barely come out from behind the computer for holidays. When was the last time you were out with friends? Or on a date?”

April could hear Paula’s arguments as though she were actually broadcasting them through her husband’s mouth. “I was just out with the girls a few weeks ago for Marietta’s bachelorette party. I’m sure every female in this place will corroborate my story.”

“What about a date?”

“I haven’t met a guy I’m interested in.”

She wouldn’t mention that if she happened to meet one she’d run in the opposite direction.

“Cut me a break, April.” John spread his hands in entreaty. “What am I supposed to do? This is Wilhemina we’re talking about here. Paula’s on the warpath. She wants me to help her sister and she wants you out from behind the computer. This is a straightforward job. You pretend you’re this guy’s assistant and keep your eyes on him. You can handle this. Getting out of the office will be a challenge.”

Challenge? Oh, John was right about that. She inhaled deeply and tried to appeal to reason. “Send Sherry. She’s much better at this sort of thing.”

“Sherry’s married. We don’t have any idea how long it’ll take in-house security to complete their investigation. It makes more sense to send single you.”

“Just because I don’t have a husband doesn’t mean I don’t have important things going on in my life, you know. I happen to be in the middle of an adoption search.”

A bald lie, since she’d just reunited Dawn Conover with her birth sister and hadn’t been assigned another search yet.

“Bring your laptop. You can work your search into your cover. An occasional break will keep you fresh.”

“Sherry will blend in much better.”

His dark gaze settled on her thoughtfully. “You’ll blend in just fine. Don’t borrow trouble.”

John didn’t have to define borrowing trouble, and while April appreciated his confidence in her abilities, the simple truth was that jumping into new situations was not one of her strengths, at work or in her personal life.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been nicknamed April Accidentally for no reason. She was high-strung by nature and whenever she got nervous, accidents were the likely result, which didn’t make her prime undercover material.

Of all the crosses she might have to bear in life, April considered this one tame, if rather unfortunate. She accepted her flaws right along with her strengths and coped with them.

“John, this isn’t a good idea.”

He arched a grizzled brow at her. “Is the sex part making you uncomfortable? I was sure you could handle it.”

Before her breakup with Jeff, April might have been able to handle glory holes and bedding companies. But now…

“The sex does bother me a little, to be honest.” Unwilling to elaborate on the reason why, she quickly added, “I’ll have to be close to spy on this guy and you said everyone in the company has sex on the brain…shouldn’t you send a man?”

“I told you, I checked him out. He’s okay. This is a baby-sitting job, April, plain and simple. All you have to do is make sure Rex Holt doesn’t make contact with any rival manufacturers. This is not difficult stuff.”

“A baby-sitting job?” She tried not to sound panicked or resentful and didn’t think she succeeded on either count. “Since when have you had baby-sitters on your payroll?”

John steepled his hands before him and looked at her over his fingertips. “This is the perfect job for you. Wilhemina needs a professional in place and she trusts you. She asked me to send you specifically, if that makes you feel any better. If anything unusual catches your attention, you report it. Should any questions be raised about this guy’s integrity, you’ll be able to testify that he conducted good business on the road.”

Both Wilhemina and John had lost their minds, April decided. It wasn’t that she wasn’t well trained or competent, but just the thought of heading into the field made her adrenaline pump so hard she could barely hear past the rush of blood in her ears.

“I know you’ve said Wilhemina’s people exhausted the computer angle, but give me a crack at it. They’re not as good as I am. I can track those posts. I’m sure of it.”

“We’re not being hired to investigate. We’re being hired to baby-sit. Wilhemina wants you. Besides, who else in this firm will be able to hold his own with nibbies, piles and pills?”

“Nibbies, piles and pills, oh my!” She pushed off her perch on the chair arm and started pacing again. Babbling was not a good sign, it usually indicated another step toward panic. If John had been paying attention, he’d have noticed.

He wasn’t. Or perhaps he was just ignoring the symptoms.

April could have appealed to him to send someone else. If she was pathetic enough, she might just wear him down and she wouldn’t have to make excuses to Wilhemina until Easter. But that would mean standing up for herself and she wasn’t so hot at standing up for what she wanted on the best of days. And especially not with John.

So she scowled instead.

He scowled right back.

Whoever lasted the longest would win.

Unfortunately, John had the edge. If he was determined to send her to the Luxurious Bedding Company how could she possibly refuse him? Besides being her boss, John Patrick Mooney was also the closest thing she had to a father. He’d come into her life at a time when she’d desperately needed a friend, after her adoptive parents had died tragically in a ski-lift accident during a long-anticipated second honeymoon.

Learning of her situation through their church, John and Paula, whose own daughters had been either married or attending college at the time, had opened their home to April so she could avoid toughing out four years of foster care until reaching eighteen and adulthood.

A very decent thing to do, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

She certainly hadn’t meant to trip John as he welcomed her into his home, but she’d nearly sent him sprawling right through the decorative glass door. The poor man had still been sporting the goose egg a week later when she’d moved in.

Fortunately, he hadn’t held the accident against her. He’d taken her under wing through the ups and down of her high school years, including her decision to pursue her birth parents.

Though she’d been unable to locate her birth parents, April had found a family with the Mooneys. They’d become her family-by-love, as she liked to call them. She’d become a friend to John’s daughters and Auntie April to the grand-kiddies. Aside from occasional bouts of too much concern for her well-being, they were perfect. She honestly didn’t know what she would do without them.

No, she wasn’t going to practice her standing-up-for-herself skills with John. And he knew it.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at her with dark eyes that saw right through her.

“Why are you so worked up about this job? What’s the real problem? I can’t help unless you tell me.”

Busted. April clasped her hands behind her back and stared hard at the Mooney family portrait. The last thing she needed was a case that would put her in direct contact with sheets—which would invariably lead to thoughts about what couples did between them.

But she couldn’t tell John that now, could she? Telling the truth would mean admitting she’d sworn off relationships that involved sex for the rest of her life because she was a disaster in bed. Bonafide hopeless. Evidenced by the fact that Jeff had nearly aspirated during their last sexual encounter, in the very whirlpool tub he’d sworn would help her relax.

In all fairness, April couldn’t have known he was going to lick her there. He’d been underwater, after all, and if she’d known he’d been perched so precariously on the bench, she would never had jumped, no matter how ticklish she might be.

But she hadn’t known, so she had jumped and Jeff had lost his balance, cracked his head and almost drowned.

Bum luck? Not exactly.

She’d had three lovers in the space of six years and enough near-misses to come to the conclusion that April Accidentally was simply too high-strung to have sex. She could barely stay in one place long enough to run a background check on a suspect.

She worked in front of a computer all day, true, but she didn’t sit, she stood, with the keyboard taped to a treadmill no less. The only time she ever got horizontal was while sleeping.

She simply couldn’t handle another romantic encounter that wound up with some form of CPR, or worse yet, a body. Jeff had claimed she was being ridiculous, accidents happened—especially to her, she’d silently agreed—and had refused to let her break up with him.

But that was a refusal more easily made than kept. April had broken off with him and sworn off men—for their protection and her peace of mind. After serious soul-searching, she’d made the decision to give up the one thing that she’d wanted all her life—her very own family. She’d never have a husband or children. She’d never even have an orgasm, for goodness’ sake.

But this was all need-to-know information that John didn’t need to know. Not only didn’t he need to know, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t want to know. The idea of his own daughters having sex had him waxing poetic about storks flying around with pink and blue bundles. She had no intention of admitting any of this. Not even to get out of this case.

April had handled losing her beloved adoptive parents to tragedy. She’d handled the defeat of sealed state records after an exhaustive search for her birth parents. She’d handled accepting that her future didn’t include her own family or happily-ever-after or mind-blowing orgasms.

She could handle going undercover to spy on Rex Holt. Even surrounded by sexy bedding and a slew of raunchy e-mail posts.

All things considered, life could be a lot worse.

She met John’s searching gaze and forced a smile. “I don’t have a problem with the sex. No problem at all. I’ll go undercover as the in-house marketing assistant.”

And try not to get nervous, cause accidents or think about the family she’d never have and all the sex she was missing.