Chapter One

RILEY ADDISON froze with her coffee cup halfway to her lips, then leaned forward in her office chair to reread the company e-mail from Jackson Lange, better known as the Bane of her Existence. Will require double the budget your department allotted, i.e. a one-hundred-percent increase, effective immediately. See attached spreadsheet for details. Contact me if any questions.

Riley's brows hiked up, and with a humorless laugh, she shook her head. The new head of Prestige Residential Construction's marketing department was clearly insane. The terse, robotic way in which Jackson Lange communicated via e-mail and on the phone convinced her he'd lived a previous life as some sort of despotic dictator who barked out orders and expected the troops to fall meekly into line.

"Well, you've picked the wrong person to bark at this time," she muttered. "Today I'm giving out asswhuppings and chocolate cookies, and sadly for you, I'm fresh out of chocolate cookies."

The only saving grace for Riley was that Prestige's marketing department was located in the company's New York offices, while her accounting department was in Atlanta - a safety buffer of over nine hundred miles that prevented her from having to deal with the intolerable Jackson Lange inperson.

She blew out a long sigh and rubbed her throbbing temples to alleviate the headache that had plagued her ever since Prestige had hired Lange. Had it been only just a few short weeks ago when all had been right and rosy with her working world? Yes. Then Jackson Lange had barreled - or was slithered a more apt description? - into Prestige's New York office and all hell had broken loose.

With the longtime head of marketing retiring, Riley, along with everyone else in her department, had known changes were inevitable. But Riley had expected a Prestige employee would be promoted to the position. So much for expectations. Instead, Jackson Lange was hired from the outside. Company scuttlebutt was that Lange had a reputation in the industry as a barracuda who wasn't afraid to chew on a few people on his way to the top. Rumor also had it that he was brought in because he had connections to Elite Commercial Builders - a company the residential-based Prestige's CEO was interested in acquiring.

All the turmoil surrounding Lange's hiring led to a newfound tense work environment that Riley resented. From day one Jackson Lange had instigated changes to procedures that had been in place for years. He'd made abrupt, peremptory demands, and thoroughly disrupted the formerly cordial working balance between the accounting and marketing departments. She'd been forced to tolerate a man she so far found intolerable, and with each passing day the situation grew worse.

But she was particularly upset because as demanding as her job was, her career provided the only calm in the storm her personal life had become since her younger sister, Tara, had moved in with her after their mother's death. At work, Riley knew what she was doing. Numbers, financial statements, budgets - all that she understood. Away from the office, however, her responsibilities made her constantly feel as if she were walking a tightrope above a deep, dark canyon without benefit of a safety net. She needed a break, a change. And she needed it now.

Unfortunately now she had to deal with this e-mail from Lange, despite the fact that she'd already told him last week that no budget increase would be coming his way. "I.e. a one-hundred-percent increase," Riley muttered. "As if I don't know what double means. Insulting jerk."

"Uh-oh," said a familiar voice from the doorway.

"You're talking to yourself. And wearing your 'Jackson Lange' killer glare. Is it safe to enter?"

Riley's gaze lifted to Gloria Morris, head of Prestige's information technology department. Dressed in a tailored, vivid turquoise dress that hugged her slim figure, with a sleek auburn bob brushing her shoulders, Gloria looked fresh and perky, and totally dispelled the typical image of the nerdy IT computer geek. Gloria was the only woman Riley knew who always looked as if she just stepped out of some exclusive salon. She loved her best friend in spite of that annoying trait.

"Safe to enter? Depends. Do you want your blood pressure to soar into the danger zone? The veins on your forehead to pop out and throb?"

"Not especially, but since you clearly could use some cheering up, I'll risk it." Gloria settled herself in the black leather chair opposite Riley. "So what's the Barracuda done now?"

"The usual - barked out peremptory demands. Only this time, he hit me before I'd finished my first cup of coffee."

Gloria shook her head. "Clearly he has no idea how grumpy you are pre-caffeine."

"Clearly not, although I wasn't grumpy until I opened Lange's e-mail. Unfortunately, I suspect my mood isn't going to improve after I look at his attached spreadsheet."

"Ooh, a spreadsheet, too. Must be your lucky day."

"Oh, yeah, lucky. That's what I'm feeling right now."

Gloria tilted her head and gave a quick, assessing look. "I don't think so. You look ... tired. Droopy."

Riley sighed. "Much as I hate to admit it, you're right. I almost hung an 'out of order' sign on my bathroom mirror this morning." She shot Gloria an apologetic look. "Sorry for being a grump. In my efforts to appear outwardly calm and collected to my staff, I let all my frustrations out on you."

"Which is what friends are for. Lord knows I bend your ear enough." A teasing light lit her eyes. "I'm just not as grumpy about it as you are."

Riley laughed. "I know. I'm Grumpy, you're Happy. Throw in a poison apple and an enchanted mirror and we'd have a fairy tale."

"I'd rather throw in a handsome prince instead."

"Wouldn't we all. Although, at this point, I'd be happy just to meet someone who interested me."

"Interested your mind - or your body?"

"Well, both would be nice. But if I had to choose? Definitely my body."

"Amen, sister. But a somewhat surprising answer from you, Ms. Cautious and Conservative."

Riley winced inwardly at the title, as she knew it didn't aptly describe her - at least not the real her, but instead only the Riley she'd forced herself to become after Tara moved in. Her willful, impressionable younger sister had badly needed a good example to follow, so Riley had made certain her own behavior couldn't be called into question. But now that Tara had finally graduated from college and had announced she was moving out in two weeks, the fun-loving, sometimes wicked, sometimes daring Riley she'd ruthlessly suppressed was straining at the reins to break free.