What Maxi Needs

Book 2: Leave Your Shoes On

by Calista Fox

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Erotic & Steamy Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

SHE'S THE BOSS Maxi Shayne needs to be on her toes as the new vice president of operations for Staci Kay Shoes. With a production crisis looming, she can't afford distractions - but every tall, chiseled, dangerously handsome inch of Ryan Donovan is exactly that. What's worse, the gorgeous Aussie is a numbers nerd hired to get the company back on track and Maxi is his new boss. Which means no matter how wildly tempted she is, he's strictly off-limits. BUT HE'S READY TO BE ON TOP Ryan hadn't factored blue eyes, long legs, and a sexy smile into his equations for success, but after meeting Maxi, he's definitely ready to recalculate. Keeping his mind on business isn't easy though, because whenever she's near, all he can think about is what else she's got going on above her six-inch black stilettos. Before he can get the job done, Ryan will have to convince Maxi that the office doesn't have to be all work and no play . . .

Release date: December 1, 2015

Publisher: Forever Yours

Print pages: 158

Sample

Chapter One

“The biggest meeting of your life starts in ten minutes,” Avril Harding announced on Monday morning as she sauntered into Maxi Shayne’s office. “And you’ve just now decided which shoes to wear?”

Maxi’s gaze flitted briefly from her assistant to the siren-red stilettos she was slipping on while seated at her desk. “Sometimes six inches are exactly what a girl needs.” She winked.

“Maxi.” Avril, perky and blonde, propped a hand on her slim hip. Her other arm was wrapped around a box of presentation folders pressed to her side. “No time for innuendos. You have a full division summit to head. Your first meeting—of hopefully many—as Vice President of Operations. Time to be serious.”

“You don’t think I’m serious?” Maxi countered. “The future of Staci Kay Shoes is hanging in the balance. Trust me, I’m sweating bullets.”

She fanned herself with a small notepad. Took a few deep breaths.

The former director of her division had bailed at the first sign of production trouble due to a huge surge in sales, and that had scared the bejesus out of the VP. He’d run for the hills too, retiring two months early to save face.

Now the job was all Maxi’s. Handed to her during a companywide crisis.

Sure, no pressure there.

In a roundabout way, all of that made her shoe selection this morning crucial. Maxi was a firm believer in the empowerment of sexy heels and she fully embraced the Staci Kay vision of selling footwear that fit the size and style of the entire female demographic—and every occasion. At this moment, she needed the extra boost of confidence the perfect stilettos gave her.

“Well, you do look fantastic,” Avril assured her.

Maxi said, “I’ve changed blouses twice already. Now I’m wearing black, in the event I turn into a glistening pile of oh, shit, I really can’t do this executive thing! in front of my staff. I’m praying they won’t notice the nervous underarm excretions, you know? Therefore, the shoes—” she stood and showed off the bold and daring pumps like Dorothy marveling over her new ruby slippers “—have a twofold purpose. First, they ought to distract the eighty percent of males on my team if I turn out to be a blathering idiot. Second, they’ll give me the incentive I need to pull this catastrophic nightmare out of the toilet.”

Avril’s pretty pink lips pursed. Then she said, “I understand the stress you’re under. With the current strike—”

“Potential strike,” Maxi quickly corrected. She hoped it wasn’t actually an imminent reality, because that could not only end her career, it could also devastate the entire organization. “I have to believe the majority of our manufacturing staff will stick.”

Avril gave her a look that screamed, Come on, sweetie, wake up and smell the conveyor belts grinding to a halt!

Coming farther into the office, the assistant set the box on the round table in the corner and said, “Given our new production issues, we’re losing the momentum from that stellar ad campaign Lola and the Marketing department launched.”

“It’ll totally go to waste if something isn’t done ASAP,” Maxi lamented.

“Staci knew you were the woman for this job—she has complete faith in you to get all of the operational functions back on track.” Avril turned enthusiastic. “So buck up, lady! Strut those long legs into that conference room and crack the whip!” She mimicked snapping one with the flick of her wrist.

“Oh, jeez,” Maxi said in a wry tone. “What the hell have I done to you? After just four months of working for me—”

“I sound like you?” Avril beamed. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you very much. I was thrilled to join your staff when you were a manager, but now that you’re the VP? We can rule the world.” She gave a somewhat devious, though mostly quirky, smile.

Maxi laughed, despite the tension gripping her. Avril was vivacious, with big golden eyes, a positive attitude, and bright ideas. She was fresh out of NYU with a degree in business, and she had more energy and vibrancy than a battery-operated Rabbit. Her enthusiasm was contagious, despite the dire straits of the Operations division.

Avril added, “It’s a damn shame that the increase in manufacturing has turned everything upside down, but there is a way to resolve this. You’ll find it!”

“Rah, rah.” Maxi gave a half-hearted fist pump, feeling a bit queasy over the entire predicament.

Her best friend, Lola Vonn, who had held newbie Avril’s position up until four months ago, had landed herself a sweet job in Marketing when she’d pitched a risqué Web campaign for the company. Her team had helped her to take the concept to the highest level and, as a result, sales were now through the roof.

A fantastic success for Lola, Marketing, and Staci, the owner of the company. But a horrific scenario for Production and Distribution—and Maxi.

Folding her arms over her chest, she said with a hint of disgruntlement, “This is Business 101: Give Consumers What They Want. Yet we can’t keep up.”

“Your pep talk this morning will be a great shot in the arm to get everything flowing in the right direction,” Avril told her with conviction in her tone, ever the cheerleader for a great cause. “And I have your Mission Statement all packaged up.” She indicated the numerous shiny black folders contained in the opened box.

The folios bore the logo for Staci Kay Shoes, along with the campaign slogan Lola had dreamed up, “Leave Your Shoes On.”

Of course, Maxi knew the provocative catchphrase was partially inspired by Lola’s new fiancé, Alex Reed, a former-nerd-turned-hottie, who was an excellent complement to Lola’s spunky effervescence.

Maxi envied not only their intimate connection, but also the way Alex ignited Lola’s creativity. Maxi could use a little sparkage herself. Unfortunately, there was no hottie rumpling sheets with her or triggering sensational ideas for her to bring to the office.

On the plus side, Maxi had successfully resisted sexting her ex. Kev tried to bait her from time to time. She hadn’t yet bitten, no easy feat.

Serial cheater.

Serial cheater.

Serial cheater.

Yeah, she had to keep reminding herself of that. Because what he was capable of doing when his head was between her legs…

She let out a long sigh.

He had a magical touch and a talented tongue. But bad boys had done nothing but break her heart.

Interrupting Maxi’s errant thoughts and keeping her from stalling further, Avril said, “Time to knock ’em dead, boss.”

This was Maxi’s shining moment. Yet her nerves jumped and doubt crept around the fringes as she considered whether she truly had what it took to rally the troops. To keep things together and moving forward.

Maxi was wholly committed to the company and certainly determined to do her best. This was just a very unexpected position to find herself in. An extremely vulnerable one at that, given the company’s tenuous state of affairs.

Her stomach churned at the idea of chairing this meeting, and she felt beads of perspiration pop along her nape, despite it being early December in Baltimore.

Snatching her compact from her small clutch, she checked her makeup for the umpteenth time, ensuring the smoky accents to her sapphire eyes had not smudged, nor had the neutral lip gloss that she wore. Her dark beachy curls defied East Coast humidity—and the trickle of moisture.

The black button-down shirt she wore as well as the short black skirt were wrinkle-resistant, so at least she didn’t appear wilted despite her anxiety. And the red stilettos provided just the right amount of va-va-voom to give her that impulsive burst of hell yes, you can do this! that she needed.

Even if it was a false sense of security. She’d take what she could get for now.

She dabbed at the back of her neck with a tissue, then said to Avril, “Okay, let’s get the show on the road. Bring the folders with you, please.”

Maxi ditched the tissue in the trash, latched on to her steely resolve, and strode to the door with Avril hot on her high heels. They traveled the hallway to the main conference room.

Maxi’s breathing escalated with every step, like Dead Woman Walking. She was typically a very grounded, steady person. Not easily flustered. But being catapulted into the center of attention and a corporate meltdown that just might lead to financial ruin? Yeah, that was enough to sufficiently rattle her cage.

She discreetly employed breathing exercises as she entered the room. Nearly twenty junior and senior executives had already situated themselves around the oval, gleaming-wood table with a granite inset where microphones were evenly spaced and outlets for laptops were inconspicuously housed. Staci Kay herself had originally indicated that she’d call in to the meeting, but the Board of Directors had her engaged in an emergency session offsite. That session would be supplemented with whatever brilliant ideas came from Maxi’s group.

Dear God, please let there be brilliant ideas from my group!

If she didn’t deliver a sound plan to pull all their asses from the flames, the company just might go under.

A distressing thought for all the obvious reasons—including the disappointment of their customers and the loss of a valiant dream. But also because Maxi had recently purchased her first condo, and it’d be a damn shame to go into foreclosure if she couldn’t pay the mortgage.

So she marched to the front of the room, her chin lifted, her shoulders squared.

Everyone was settled with coffee and Danishes. Avril placed the box of folders on the floor near the head of the table, where Maxi’s nameplate sat, and awaited Maxi’s cue to pass them out.

Maxi’s palms were a bit clammy, but she made eye contact with each person.

Breathe.

These are your colleagues.

People who know you; people who know what you’ve achieved over the past six years.

That helped to bring her panic level down a few notches. Kept her from wringing her hands so she could project a more stable, calm presence.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said in a surprisingly steady voice, when she’d actually feared it might crack. “Thank you so much for being here. As you’re all aware, we’re facing a very complex situation, and it’s going to require our collective brain power to come up with a solution.”

She turned to Avril and nodded, giving the signal to distribute the packets.

Maxi’s assistant knelt to retrieve the folders, but straightened quickly when the door swung open and a tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered man wearing a tailored navy suit and wire-rimmed glasses blew in, nabbing everyone’s attention.

Maxi’s in particular.

The breath she’d finally gotten under control escaped her on a hard rush of air.

He was gorgeous, despite the scholarly specs and impeccably polished wing-tipped shoes.

Seriously gorgeous.

“Think I’ve finally found the correct room,” the mystery man declared, his Australian accent thick and…sexy?

Maxi’s brow quirked.

Whoa, where had that thought come from?

The stranger strode toward her and gave her an impish grin that revealed straight, pearl-white teeth. “My apologies for the intrusion. And for being late. Do you realize this building has thirty-two conference rooms, three of which start with ‘Gold: Operations’—and the office map does not indicate which room is A, B, or C?”

“I—um…” Huh. He had her instantly tongue-tied, especially over the extreme amount of virility exuding from him. The self-assured poise. The masculinity.

She took in his refined appearance, but then her gaze fixated on his ruggedly handsome face, his strong features. Square jaw. Chiseled cheeks. Glowing, dark-brown eyes that instantly made her crave melted Godiva chocolate drizzled over lush, velvety strawberries.

Exhilaration rippled through her as it always did at the mere notion of dessert—her favorite meal of the day. Or perhaps it was him?

Hmm. Very odd.

Chocolate-covered strawberries should be the last thing to pop into her mind—and why was she thinking of them while checking out the hunky Aussie, who’d interrupted her when it took substantial nerve to stand before all of these executives while tensions were running so high?

Because he looks sinfully delicious?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge her wayward thoughts, and said, “I haven’t seen an office map in years. I wouldn’t know.”

His grin deepened. And it was a stunner, lighting the rims of his dark eyes.

A flash of . . .