Kiss of Fashion

When hypochondriac Megan Bell becomes the exclusive secretary to a handsome tyrant named Brendan Johnson at their upper end New York City fashion business, she finds out fast that he doesn't like her. Because he runs a tight ship, she keeps the fact that she has a night job as cab driver quiet. As time progresses and Brendan softens a bit, she falls for him. When Brendan finds out Meg has a second job and a killer cab burglar is loose, will he step up to the plate and save her?

Note: It's been pointed out to me that it's very difficult to get a concealed carry permit in NYC, with restricted and costly licenses. The gun permits for Manhattan aren't good for other parts of NY, either. For the purposes of this book, Meg's dad and friend are cops, so they might have more of an ability to get her a gun for protection. More information is online about concealed carry legalities in New York.

I'd like to thank Mike Wysocki for this information.   :)

Excerpt

The coronary started in Megan Bell's chest while an ulcer wrenched at her stomach. Or it might have been a brain tumor. Considering she'd been called a hypochondriac in the past, it could be anything.

Her boss took his last walk to the elevator. Her heart tightened even more. Mr. Torrey had been her friend and mentor, letting her shine behind the scenes while he took the bows in the limelight. She preferred it that way, but now had to fend for herself with some new guy.

"Do you know you have the most adorable face I've ever seen?" she heard.

She eased her gaze toward the client while sitting in her cubicle near Mr. Torry's old office. This client was so slimy, but she knew to bite her lip and not say a word out of the ordinary. Even though she was a professional, she was a New Yorker, and this man was begging her to slam her fist into his mouth from some of his earlier comments. If only he wasn't a client…

She tossed back her long hair and took a deep breath. "I can tell the new boss you're in. And your name again?" She'd tried to erase it from her mind, even though his name was on Mr. Torrey's schedule, sitting in front of her. She also wanted this guy to know she wasn't impressed with him one bit.

"Ethan Washington." His gaze and smile moved toward her chest. "I work at a modeling agency, where we represent the big top models such as Anastasia, Calliope, and many others."

"Top models? And you called me adorable?" What was he smoking?

Ethan lifted his gaze to her face as his fingers touched her arm, his brown eyes framed by his curly brown hair. "You're absolutely beautiful. How about you come to work for me instead of staying in this dungeon?"

He seemed like the type to film porn. He wasn't trustworthy and she wasn't about to pose nude for this guy or anyone. She backed away from his hand. "I'm no top model."

"Neither were Ana or Calliope when they came to see me." He reached out and stroked her cheek, his fingers feeling like snakeskin. "You have more natural beauty than they ever did. I love brunettes, and with your ice blue eyes, you're quite beautiful, in a girl-next-door type of way."

Nope. He probably just wanted a one-night stand and she certainly wasn't that type. Ethan Washington was slimy, making her skin crawl.

She moved away from his fingers and checked the monitor. "Will you look at that? We've just gotten an email. Our new boss' name is Brendan Johnson and he should be here--"

"Welcome, Mr. Johnson!" the personnel director yelled in his typical dramatic fashion. The man exited Mr. Torrey's empty office as another man headed toward him. The personnel director shook the new man's hand, smiling as if he'd just won the lottery. "Everything's in order just like you wanted. No request is too big for you. Would you like coffee or tea, or something stronger to drink?"

The tall medium blond-haired man with striking blue eyes appeared dumbfounded. "No, I just want to get to work."

"I knew you'd be a team player." The personnel director chuckled as he nodded toward Ethan. "This man had a meeting…I mean has a meeting with you right away. He's representing Anastasia, I mean Ana, the top model, to run with the newest ad for our company."

"What's she promoting?" Brendan asked.

The personnel director leaned closer. "Lingerie. Thongs, especially. But only in markets that can handle such things without viewers rebelling." His whisper wasn't even close to quiet. Meg wanted to roll her eyes from the way the man's eyebrows danced.

Brendan nodded. "Oh, I see." He motioned for Ethan. "I'll see you right now."

"Yes sir." Ethan grabbed Meg's hand, lifting it to his lips. "I'd like a secretary taking notes, and this one's my favorite." He winked, making Meg want to hurl. Or was that a stomach ulcer she was sure was forming, just from Ethan's aftershave?

It almost sounded like she really was a hypochondriac, like she'd once been called in high school. That couldn't be true, could it?