Required Reading

By Catherine Merritt

Meet Francesca, a reading teacher looking for adventure in a new city, and Michael, a handsome man with a dark past. Can they find hot sex and romance or will the past ruin their future? Book is approximately 300 pages. Over 18 only! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Merritt
• Release date: Sep 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386079361

Catherine Merritt

The author currently lives in Phoenix, Arizona. She has traveled to every continent except Antarctica. "Required Reading" is her first novel.

Book preview

Chapter 1 Nervous, But In A Good Way

I’M IN AN ELEVATOR and nervous as hell. I’m going for a job interview in an industry I know nothing about, in a new city across the country from where I used to live, leaving my old life behind. Newly retired elementary school reading teacher, looking for an adventure, a new chapter. My two daughters are in college, one in Seattle, one studying K-Pop in South Korea. If they can have adventures, why can’t I? At least that’s what I said to myself when I locked up my house in suburban Phoenix, packed up some essentials, and drove cross-country. Why Boston? Well, why not? Phoenix was hot six months of the year, desert, dusty, and dry; Boston was a four-season city, near the ocean, with lots of folks from Italian descent like myself, with good seafood and high humidity—I figured at least my skin and crazy curly hair would be happy. Maybe the choice of city was not too logical, nor moving here without a job, but then adventures aren’t always based in logic. That’s what makes them adventures.

So I’m in a high rise building in downtown Boston, having just navigated the crazy traffic which is worse than Phoenix rush hour traffic, and I didn’t think that could be topped by much. I  dressed well today, trying to adopt  the Northeast more chic buttoned-down look, so different from the Phoenix casual white shorts-flip flops-even-in- winter look. I’m wearing a black pencil skirt, which cups my quite round bottom but not in a trashy way, with a hot pink polished cotton shirt with three-quarters sleeves with the cuffs turned back, and black professional heels trimmed with a slightly racy hot pink stripe. My dark brown with a few reddish highlights shoulder-length hair is very curly and with an independent mind of its own, the Boston humidity making the curls look decent for a change.

I am interviewing for a researcher position with a small indie book publishing company called Intaglio—I did my research on the company, it has two floors in the building, 7 and 8. HR on the lower of the two. The company publishes fiction, non- fiction, romance, a bit of everything. A partner group called Filigrana publishes textbooks, but I’ve had enough of textbooks in my career as an elementary school reading teacher. I’d rather go for the lighter side of publishing, I love to read and to teach reading to others, and I can Google better than many including my own adult children, so I figured I am as qualified as anybody else for an entry level job in a publishing company.  If I could just land this job interview—not only would the extra money help with living expenses, and the girls always needing something or other, but I needed and wanted a new challenge to keep me sharp and alert.  And—bonus!—I would be able to talk with adults all day. Little kids are great, but the topics are pretty much limited to Minecraft, WWE wrestling, and Barbie dolls.

The elevator doors open onto the lobby, and there are quite a few people in the elevator already. Taking a deep breath, I squish in. All eyes are on me for a minute, and I feel like I am radiating nervousness, that awkward feeling that everyone knows you are out of place. I take a deep breath, grin a little at the people closest to me, and push the button for the 7th floor. I check  the resume I have in my hands one more time, making sure it is still in one piece, and feel the elevator rise.

I feel eyes on me....not everyone in the elevator this time, but a definite stare coming from my right. I turn to the right, a see a man I can only say is simply one doggone handsome man. Not model pretty, but handsome. The dark brown eyes are intelligent and piercing, his dark hair is wavy with a little grey, worn curling at the collar of his charcoal grey suit. He had the kind of thick wavy hair I just wanted to run my hands through and grab onto. His face is mature with olive skin that looks soft and touchable. His lips are absolutely kissable, full and sensual, but I see no smile there. Not a glare, but a serious look is on his face.  He is intently looking at me with those intense deep brown eyes. I realize I am openly staring at him and feel myself blush. I look away. The doors open, it’s my floor to go to HR. I excuse myself to the people in front of me as I leave the elevator. I can still feel his eyes on me. Or maybe I’m imagining it. But I quickly look over my shoulder, and yup, he is still looking but this time at my ass in my pencil skirt. Wow, wow, wow, I think as I make my way to the receptionist. Maybe this will be a good start to my adventure.

The company’s lobby is right off the elevator—the lobby is nice, open with lots of glass and windows, classy but not uppity. The area is full of light and very welcoming.... Kind of like how I view books, a light on ignorance and close-mindedness.

Good morning, may I help you asked the smiling receptionist.

Yes, good morning. My name is Franca Donati. I have an appointment with HR about a position, I tell the receptionist.

Checking her appointment list, she states, Absolutely. Please sign in, and someone will be with you shortly.

Thanks very much.  I sign and sit. Before long, a smartly dressed woman in her 50s greets me and we walk to her office. We pleasantly chat along the way.

Did you have trouble finding the building?

No, I Googled it and found it right away.

Well, that’s a good start for this position, she chuckles.

The interview starts in earnest as we sit in her office. I hand her my resume, which is a bit of a lot of things...corporate trainer for a few months, elementary school reading teacher for fifteen years, reading tutor part-time in the summer.

So Franca....is that a nickname? Your resume states your name as Francesca.

Well, Francesca Donati is kind of a mouthful, so Franca is just a bit easier to handle.

Franca it is then. It says here you retired from teaching last month. Are you bored already or why do you want to start a new job?

Well, not bored exactly, but restless. I took early retirement—actually very early retirement—and I’m used to being very busy. I like to stay sharp and use my skills, I say with a smile.

And why this company?

I did lots of research. I thought this industry would be a logical one in which I could use my skills. And this company is one of the smaller publishing houses, with an independent streak. And family owned by the Cellini family, that sounded attractive to me. So, that is why I chose Intaglio Publishing.

Oh, just so you know, it’s pronounced Che-lin-i...the family likes it to stay the Italian pronunciation.

Thanks for telling me, I wouldn’t want to mispronounce it.

Wonderful, you can take constructive criticism. That’s important when learning a new  job, especially in this field—everyone thinks they are right all the time. So, you must like to read, being a reading teacher and all?

Yup, it’s my thing all right. Ever since 3rd grade when reading ‘clicked’ for me. And not to sound like I’m pandering for the job, I honestly feel books are sacred. I read every day, sometimes an entire book in one evening. Or day, now, that I have the time.

She smiles and says that all sounds great.  She explains the job, which is basically researching whatever that might be for fiction or nonfiction books, looking up new authors, reading unsolicited manuscripts, etc.

That sounds perfect, like something I would enjoy.  I know I am in one sense overqualified, and in another sense, no experience at all in publishing. But I am willing to learn and work hard.

I can tell she likes that answer. She looks at a sticky note with writing on it, seems puzzled, but then says, Just a few more things. I know this might seem unusual, but we require a background check, a drug-test, and an STD test. Do you have a problem with any of that?

Um, it seems a bit unusual for all that, at least in the teaching field. I was fingerprinted, of course, but....well, I guess it would be ok. I certainly have nothing to hide.

And, are you married?

Um, no, I got divorced a long time ago—but I’m not sure what that has to do with the job.

Oh, not too much, she says a bit evasively, making notes on the resume. It’s just that sometimes things get hectic and we require nights or weekends. Not a problem then?

No. I don’t think that will be a problem.  I think this line of interview questions is certainly odd—what difference would it make if I have an STD, or if I’m married? I get why the drug test is important, and I suppose the background check is ok to make sure I don’t have a felony....but huh. Odd. I decide to let it play out and see if I get the job without challenging it more.

Here are some papers to sign, and here is the location of the testing facility. When we get the results back on your checks, we will decide if we will make you an offer. We’ll call. Any questions?

No, that’s sounds ok. I look forward to hearing from you. Thanks so much.

We walk to the elevators and we wish each other a good day.

I have a good feeling about the interview, the company, and the job itself, putting aside all the testing for a moment. It doesn’t mean I’ll get the job but feel good about my first interview in Boston.

I go down in the elevator to the main lobby of the building, am walking through it to head to the parking garage, and I see ‘the man’ stroll through the lobby, heading to another part of the building. He doesn’t look at me, why would he?, as he moves through the lobby. I have a chance to look at him again, and if anything, he is more attractive than the first time.  Walks with confidence. Medium height, which is fine as I am definitely on the shorter side, a good quality suit but not a fussy one, and that fabulous hair. I wonder how many women have run their hands through that wavy thick hair....and he looks, well, like someone you would want to just wrap your arms and legs around and hold on tight for the ride.

I find myself fantasizing about just that as I head out the lobby. I find I’m blushing, my heart is pumping faster than normal, and I realize with a start that it’s been a long time, no a very long time, since I had a fantasy about anyone. Although I also realize that I would never talk to him even if I saw him face to face again—shy, introverted reader-teacher types don’t take the initiative with someone who is clearly too good looking to be single. He likely is married, and/or with a girlfriend, or who knows maybe even a boyfriend. Wow. Just wow. I wonder if I’ll see him again IF I get the job. I decide I like looking at him....front, back, side or whatever...I mean I like looking at beautiful artwork in museums, but it doesn’t mean I can touch any of it. Looking is just fine sometimes.

I head straight for the testing lab after leaving the building, and they assure me the results will be sent to Intaglio Publishing the next day. I go out and enjoy the rest of the lovely Boston day, brainstorming back-up plans in case Intaglio doesn’t work out.

Next morning, I get a call on my cell phone—yes! I got the job! I would start in a couple of days, 9am. Low pay as it is an entry -level job, but I was used to low pay being a teacher in Arizona. And surprise of surprises, it was supposed to be part-time, but HR changed it’s mind and offered me full-time. Not sure I want to work five days a week again—but I’d done it all my working life, so why not. I can always quit if it doesn’t work out, although I know myself well—I don’t quit, even if I’m rather miserable. Once I commit, that’s it. My friends say I’m a bit like a Golden Retriever—friendly, loyal, and usually with a smile on my face, not needing much encouragement except a pat on my head. I’m excited to see how this will all work out. 

I don’t have clothes for this kind of a job in this kind of a city. Casual cottons that wash well to get out marker stains and crayon aren’t going to cut it here. So, off to shop for a few things that I can afford. A few quality skirts, better shoes, nicer blouses. A good tailored jacket.  Some quality hair clips for my crazy shoulder-length hair. I know I am not nearly old enough to be retired at thirty-eight, and I want to keep it looking that way. Tailored-trendy is the look I am going for—like the publishing company I would now be working for, in the great city of Boston. Wow! I’m excited and can’t wait to start the new job.....hoping I don’t make a complete mess of it and get kicked out on my ass the first week. Breathe, breathe....how bad could any of it be?

Chapter 2 New Things

TIME TO START THE NEW job, and I decide taking the subway is a the best approach rather than deal with traffic and parking. I don’t want to be late today, well any day really, but the less stressful I can make my first day, the better. Looking over my limited clothing choices, I decide on a black pencil skirt, bright teal polished cotton tailored shirt, and black pumps with teal and hot pink stripes running down the sides. Tailored but trendy, that’s the plan. I check myself in the mirror, wanting to make sure my crazy twisting curls are relatively in order—and see a woman who is a combination of serious and fun, pretty much like the person I am. Serious about important things, but witty and sarcastic too. Turning around to check myself one more time, I am pleased to note that the skirt hugs my generous curves but is not too tight. Sitting down gracefully without ripping open the skirt is always a good plan on any given day.

Walking from the subway with time to spare, I enter the lobby and wait for the elevator to ding open. The doors open and it is crowded like the first time. A couple of folks make room for me, and as I enter, who but Mr. Fabulous Hair is staring right at me. Not a glare, but not with a smile either. The kind of look that just plain goes right through you, like that person is shining all their energy and focus on you, trying to see down deep inside you.

Oh, yeah....down, deep, inside, hot, and wet spring to mind as I reach over and press my floor, seventh.....I know I am blushing. I never could hide my thoughts on my face, no matter how hard I try. I look straight ahead in the crowded elevator, but can feel him continuing to look at me. My floor comes up, and as I leave the elevator, I take a quick glance and look straight into those espresso-brown eyes. Yum. I love espresso.

I am met at the elevator by an older woman, and see intelligence and competence on her smiling face. I take a liking to her immediately.

Are you Franca? she asks politely.

Yes, I am, and I’m excited for my first day of work here.

Wonderful, I really hope you like it here. I’m Liz Smith, the Admin to the boss up on the eighth floor. He wants me to introduce you around, show you the cubicle that is your new home, and see if you need anything.

That is so kind, thanks so much.  Her warm and efficient manner totally put me at ease.

Here’s your cube, pretty standard. At least you are close to a window a few cubes down so you will get a bit of light. Your computer, office supplies, etc. are all here but if you need anything just ask. Your neighbors....

Hey, we’ve been waiting for you to start, a friendly male voice jumps up in the cube next to mine. I see a young man in his early twenties, metro dressing in a hipster suit and horn-rimmed glasses, extending his hand to me.

My name is Josh, I’m also in Research and whatever else needs to be done.

I give him a warm smile and a handshake.

He’s also the office gossip, and knows everything about everyone, so if you have any secrets, don’t let Josh know, says Liz with a grin. Your other neighbors are right here, also waiting to meet you. Their names should be Double Trouble, but their families call them Beth and Carly.

Popping up from the next cubes over are the two late twenty-somethings with huge welcoming smiles on their faces, just the kind of girls you want to immediately have lunch with. Something told me these girls have plenty of fun stories to tell.

I’m Beth, says the tall girl with straight blonde hair expertly cut to fall beneath her chin, wearing a tailored light blue suit that matches her eyes and chunky heels to match, wearing a huge smile. We shake hands.

And I’m Carly, announces a girl who is rather the opposite of Beth—shorter, rounder, brown hair cut in a boyish way, big brown eyes, and wearing tailored navy pants and a man’s white tailored shirt. Her smile is just as friendly as Beth’s.

I’m very glad to meet both of you, I say. Will I be working with both of you?

Well, you may, depends on the project, says Carly.  

Beth chimes in, We’re in Romance.

Excuse me? I ask.

They all chuckle. Liz explains, As you know, we publish all kinds of books and so we hire in specialities. These ladies read, edit, and suss out new authors in the Romance genre.

Do you read any of it? Carly ask.

Well, not really. But if you point out some good ones, I might.

Ohhhhh, yes, we do have our favorites, Beth gushes.

Liz chuckles, And don’t get them started on their favorite erotic Romance books, you’ll never get a word into the conversation.

Ok, yes those are our favorites....and big sellers, don’t forget that! Beth says with pride. You can’t believe the market for them.

See, I’m learning something already, I laugh.

Liz steers me to the other side of the room to more cubes and introduces me around. Fiction and Nonfiction teams are larger, with a mix of men and women on the teams of varying ages. History is a team of one, an older bookish man, thin, grey-haired and scholarly, wearing wire-rimmed glasses.

This gentleman is George, our resident scholar. Knows everyone in the Nonfiction field in general, History in particular, says Liz. If you’re good at Research, you may work on one of his projects, but he is very picky. Accuracy is important.

George extends his hand, and we shake hands. He looks at me with a combination of disdain and like he wants to lick my face, rather like an irritated, needy puppy wanting a pat on the head.  Altogether a rather unpleasant combination of thoughts scurry through my mind.

Liz completes the tour of the seventh floor, showing me the break room and  the ladies’ room and returns me to HR to complete signing payroll papers.

I’ll leave you here then. After you get settled in a couple of days, I’ll give you a tour of the admin floor up on eight. Not sure you will be going up there for anything, but one never knows. Have a good first day.

Liz, thank you so much for introducing me around. Everyone seems great to work with, and I appreciate your time, I say sincerely.  We nod to each other and I turn to finish in HR.

After that, the morning moves quickly. I spend time locating printers and copiers, getting used to signing into my computer, figuring out which part of the network I will work on and which part is highly secured for manuscript editing. Lots of new things to learn, and I am happy.

Lunchtime rolls around, and not surprising, the Romance girls invite me to the deli next to the building. I eagerly accept, thinking it is a good time to chat away from the cubes.

Walking to the deli, we small talk about the weather, how different it is living in Boston than Phoenix, etc. Once seated, the real conversation began.

Are you married? asks Beth.

I was a long time ago. Divorced a long time ago. It didn’t go well....but doesn’t everyone have divorce stories?

Well, what happened? asked Carly.

You know, the usual. He cheated on me, and more than once. Basically, he was nice to everyone but me. When I’d had enough, I divorced him. And no, I never remarried...I try to learn from my mistakes. Once was enough.  I know I sounded bitter, even after all these years, but it still stung.

Kids?

Yes, two. I adopted them a few years back after the divorce. I can’t believe it, but they are both in college now.

College? Gee, you don’t look old enough to have kids in college.

Well, I say laughing, I did adopt them when I was in my twenties, about your age. Yes, young to adopt, but I knew I wanted children and after my horrible experience with marriage, I just wanted to get on with it. They needed a mother, and I needed girls. I only intended to adopt one, but she wanted a sister, so....two girls. I show them a picture on my phone of two smiling, intelligent, lovely young women. I’m very proud of them. 

So no boyfriends then? asked Beth.

Tried that route a few times but nope. On my own. I like it that way, no complications.

Beth turns to Carly and says, I think we may have to help this woman with her life, what do you think Carly?

Absolutely, I see corruption in your future. Reading Romances all day gives us plenty of ideas, she says chuckling.

Well, tell me about you two.

Beth started first. I’m twenty-five, have two boyfriends who don’t know about each other, love sex, and have a Maltese.

Wow, that sounds like a full time job managing two boyfriends and a dog! You must have a lot of energy, I say. We all laugh.

Carly, what about you? I ask.

Hmmmm, sure you’re ready to hear about me?  I’m twenty-six, bisexual, love the boys and the girls, not at all ready to settle down with any one person, and am rather adventurous if I say so myself. Remind me to tell you about my last vacation, a sex tour of Thailand.

Uh, right, yes I think you are correct about being adventurous! I chuckle.

Are you shocked? asked Beth.

Frankly, I’m only shocked because I just met you ladies a few hours ago!  I mean, my love life is non-existent and has been for a very, very long time but I certainly don’t mind hearing about yours! We all laugh, check the time, and briskly walk back to the office. I like these girls, and I think they like me too.

The afternoon moves along. I’m asked to start Googling a list of authors who are currently represented by the company to learn more, then Josh asks for help.

This project is a big one, and I’m behind and could use your help. Do you mind? It’s one of the reasons I was anxious to have you start.

No, I don’t mind at all. Just tell me what you need. I like helping people.

It’s not glamorous, so don’t hate me.

No worries, I say laughing.

Clearly relieved by my response, he brings a stack of print-outs and dumps them on my desk explaining what he needs as he does this. Really, is it ok?

Yes, absolutely. I’ll get started. 

An hour later, I am done and bring back the stack to him. Next? I ask.

All I can say is wow, that was fast. He looks shrewdly at me. You’re smart.

Thanks, I say grinning.

We work the rest of the afternoon together, only interrupted when a man’s voice comes from the