Mine to Five

By Tara September

'Tis the season for an office romance!

Her dream job. His last chance. Working as a team will make their wishes come true, but at what price?

Working beyond 9 to 5 and barely getting by, Melanie Thomas is eager to celebrate the impending holiday season and to toast the start of her dream marketing job over drinks with her boyfriend. Unfortunately, he has different plans—like seeing other women.

Indulging in a pity party with tequila, Melanie confides in a sexy stranger at the bar. It's almost Christmas, one night of letting go won't hurt anything, right? Turns out it just might—when the stranger is her new boss. Determined to succeed at her job, Melanie won't be scared away. This is her chance, even if her hot boss has her feeling all merry and bright and wishing for a less than professional relationship.

Matthew Ryans is burned out and on thin ice at the company he helped build. He needs to get his head back in the game. Yet, his head, both upper and lower, are quickly becoming obsessed with his new assistant. Still, he can't seem to fully begrudge Melanie's distracting presence and the Christmas joy she brings. Especially considering that her enthusiasm has him reenergized like never before. For once, he is longing for Mondays, but with his heart and job on the line he can't risk blurring the lines no matter how strong the lure of holiday mistletoe.

Will their holiday passion be able to fuel mutual career success, or will it only get in their way in the New Year?

AWARDS:
-2018 Contemporary Romance Writers Stiletto Finalist

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tara September
• Release date: Nov 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9798223161714

Book preview

1

Nothing good can come from another woman answering your guy’s cell phone.

Melanie Thomas came to this epiphany the moment she heard the unfamiliar female voice on the other end of the phone line. She did a double take to make sure she’d selected the correct name from her contact list, but sure enough, it read Joe. Her Joe.

That left three likely possibilities. None were pleasant, and all spelled doom for her relationship.

Possibility number one would go something like, Hello, this is Mrs. Kinnear. Please stop calling my husband, you tramp!

Melanie dismissed the idea as quickly as it surfaced. After almost two years of dating, surely she would have ferreted out a wife by now, right?

Possibility number two, the mystery woman was a concerned police officer, medic, or bystander who would solemnly say, I am so sorry to be the one to inform you, but there has been a terrible accident. His last request is to see your beautiful face again. Please hurry!

She really shouldn’t hope for this scenario, but a horrible, selfish part of her preferred it to the last likely option.

No, sadly, possibility number three was the most probable reason for why another woman was answering her boyfriend’s phone at night. Even her shocked mind registered this option as more like probability number one. Her boyfriend was having an affair, plain and simple, or rather, pain and simple.

Cradling the phone in the crook of her neck, Melanie covered her other ear with her palm and tried to block out the noise of the busy club.

Hello? the female voice repeated after Melanie had failed to get her tongue-tied mouth to answer the first time.

From her sultry tone, Melanie could tell the other woman had to be sexy. Her predatory purr dripped of confidence laced with a tinge of malice.

Melanie cringed, but she managed to ask over the peach-sized pit lodged in her throat, Is Joe Kinnear there? Sucking in her breath, she braced for the unknown woman’s answer.

Of course, let me wake him up, taunted the sultry, young voice.

Wake him up? It was still early evening. She hunched forward from the invisible sucker punch. Yup, he’s cheating!

Staring at the blue glow from her phone, she noticed the call time count. Twenty seconds. That was how long it took to unravel a relationship of twenty months.

To think, moments earlier she had been eager for the night ahead, especially since Joe had told her he wanted to discuss something important with her. That, paired with the fact that she was celebrating the start of a new job at a major advertising firm tomorrow—a job that would make her career—had Melanie elated as she’d walked through the steel doors of the trendy Manhattan nightclub, Surge. Everything in her life had seemed to be aligning for her. The tide had finally been turning, and Melanie was more than ready to have it roll her way. It had all been going as planned, except now it wasn’t.

Sure, she had been surprised when she hadn’t seen Joe’s familiar face in the crowd, especially since he was usually so annoyingly punctual. The mere thought of arriving first and being able to switch roles for a change had given her a buzz of satisfaction. For once, Melanie could be the one to deliver an annoyed look for the few minutes of inconvenience suffered.

Passing by the gigantic, booming speakers, she had weaved her way across the dance floor before spotting an empty stool near the end of the busy bar. It was unusual for Joe to want to visit a trendy nightclub, or any place crowded. He preferred coffee houses and other intellectual settings where he could talk. But this club was the new chic spot, and Melanie had been eager to finally check it out.

The walls inside this particular downtown club weren’t walls at all, but huge aquariums. Thousands of tropical fish floating by gave the impression that the club’s guests were also underwater swimming. It reminded Melanie of being on vacation, and it had her craving a tropical drink and the warm sunshine, which had disappeared earlier than usual this crisp, Northeastern fall.

Her red, tight-fitting dress was a beacon in the sea of dark, heavy coats that currently filled the room as she stood there waiting for the final verdict on her relationship. She preferred wearing bright colors, even if most of Manhattan didn’t, but the swanky atmosphere had her rethinking her bold choice. She’d have rather been invisible at the moment. Scanning the club again, she caught a few looks from men unsuccessfully trying to get her attention. Not returning their smiles or nods, she ordered a glass of Prosecco from the wetsuit-uniformed bartender. The poor guy looked so miserable in the getup, Melanie felt obliged to give him a bigger tip. She raised her wine flute to him in a silent toast and sat down on the only vacant bar stool.

Sipping the bubbly drink, her phone now clutched tightly to her ear, Melanie took two deep, fortifying breaths and waited. With her chin resolutely tilted upward, she focused on the bubbles ascending to the top of her glass and then disappearing with a silent pop. A metaphor for her relationship?

Melanie didn’t regret the long hours she’d been working these last few months. She had been building a name for herself as an online marketing guru, which in turn landed her the new job. Her dream job. But in this moment, she couldn’t help but reevaluate not being a more attentive girlfriend. Guilt gnawed at her.

She shoved the weak thought aside. Don’t you dare blame yourself for his cheating. Rapidly tapping her foot on the wooden underside of the bar, she waited for Joe to finally man up and answer the goddamn phone.

At last, his groggy voice mumbled into the phone, Hello?

Hello, snake, Melanie hissed.

Melanie? Why are you calling so late?

Late? You have classes that start later than this. It’s only eight thirty, and I’ve been waiting for you at Surge as you’d asked.

That was tonight? he asked distractedly. I’m not feeling too well, honey, and I guess I must have fallen asleep. …

She rolled her eyes. With someone else? Who answered your phone, Professor?

After a loud sigh, Joe rushed out, To be fair, we never had ‘the talk’ about being monogamous.

Wha–? It’s been almost two freaking years, Joe. You’re joking. Her mind shouted the words bastard! and two years together! So enraged and betrayed, she didn’t even realize that she had, in fact, yelled the accusations out loud.

And this is how you chose to discuss it, you jerk? Over the phone, caught in the act, the night before my new job? she growled, trying to lower her voice after the man sitting next to her shot a curious glance her way. She grimaced. No doubt he and the surrounding area had overheard her whole sordid conversation.

Come on, sweetie, be sensible. This is actually good for us to grow—healthy even, he urged.

Sensible? Healthy? How can you think sleeping with someone else would be good for us? she shouted back, squeezing her phone in lieu of his neck.

Calm down. I was planning on explaining all of this to you in person, but I refuse to speak to you when your famous temper is up, Joe condescended.

If her temper had been up before that infuriating remark, it was now over the moon. Awareness broke through her rage, and she gasped at the realization. Oh! she exclaimed, looking around. "Of course … I’m in a crowded, noisy place. This was the news you had to tell me?"

She should have been suspicious the moment he suggested meeting at a nightclub. Instead, she’d stupidly assumed he was trying to celebrate and maybe, just maybe, suggest that they move in together.

Then again, if she was being honest, Joe had grown distant over the last few months, but she’d been too busy pursuing her career to really contemplate it. She’d figured once she was settled into her new position, she could focus more on her personal life again. Wrong.

He answered superiorly, We’ll discuss it tomorrow. I’m sure in the light of day you will see things more clearly.

He had a right to be smug and patronizing. After all, didn’t she always go along with his theories and wishes? Just another adoring student of his. But despite her naivety where he was concerned, she knew better than to accept this. Her mother had taught her better.

Who is she? Melanie demanded, sounding surprisingly composed.

Evidently, after having a brief talk with his non-existent conscience, Joe had decided to be brutally direct. Her name is Aubrey. She is a vivacious coed in my Intro to Psychology class. He stated it as if this wasn’t a big deal, as if he wasn’t twisting the knife farther into her heart. He used to call me vivacious.

Intro? An underclassman. At least Melanie had been a graduate student when they’d started dating. Unable to control the anger she felt, she spat back, There is no need to discuss further, ‘sweetie.’ We are so over, you arrogant asshole.

Odd how saying those final words felt both right and freeing, yet managed to hurt.

His voice slightly sad and affectionate, Joe replied, I will call you tomorrow. Good luck at the new firm. Knock ’em dead.

The line went dead, and so did a part of Melanie’s heart. Silently cursing, she gulped down her drink, the effervescence of the sparkling wine making it hard to do it as quickly as she would have liked. She needed something stronger to mark her newfound freedom and the end of her only serious relationship.

Waving her hand, she got the bartender’s attention again and ordered a shot of tequila. Bandidas Tequila was among her future portfolio of clients at McCain Marketing. Finally, she’d be working on a brand that people would recognize or be interested in. She’d no longer be peddling some obscure kick-starter or complicated business-to-business technology. It didn’t matter how clever her slogans were or how attractive the Instagram account she’d set up. It was impossible to reach the masses she wanted when discussing boring data storage. Now was as good a time as any to get better acquainted with the popular agave-based alcohol.

Probably sensing the state that she was in, the bartender hurried to bring her order as fast as was possible with the unfortunate scuba flippers on his feet. Before she lost her nerve, Melanie sloshed down the amber-colored drink the moment he placed it in front of her. The silky burn that coursed down her throat caused her eyes to water and her mouth to contort, but it soon faded to a trail of comforting warmth.

Melanie smiled darkly. Her first shot of tequila, and she’d enjoyed it. Next time, she’d have to bite a lime and lick salt off her hand like they did in the movies.

The liquor had her feeling bold, but it still didn’t stop her from berating herself for being so naïve and trusting when it came to Joe. It had always been hard for her to voice her feelings to him, regressing to the idolizing student from when they’d first met. It hadn’t helped that she’d never felt secure in their relationship. He would lecture her about how definitions put too much pressure and that labels always led to the downfall of happy couples.

She replayed the last month in her head, remembering all the times he had canceled their plans. Each time, she’d graciously excused him, relieved that it meant she could work later and continue to track her clients’ social media pages even after her peers had left. His innocent explanations about meeting up with colleagues now made her cheeks heat with humiliation. Colleague my ass.

Melanie slouched on the stool with a sigh and rested her forehead on the sticky bar. She snorted. This undignified position was definitely not one of her proudest or most hygienic moments.

Her snort had apparently been a little too loud—she could feel the gaze of the man sitting next to her. He’d kept shooting her sideways glances during her call, but she had been too incensed at the time to give him the back off glare she’d meant to. Although Melanie was in no mood for a drunken pass and should have just ignored him, something compelled her to glance back.

When she did, the dark-haired man