AlTonya Washington - Pleasure After Hours

“That’s what business is all about, Temp.” He moved from behind the desk.

“That may be, but it’s getting more dramatic every day, and I’ve had enough.”

Mataeo’s glare harbored more concern than anger.

Temple shifted her gaze back to the hem of her skirt. Silently, she cursed her slipup as she noticed the uncertainty creeping onto Mataeo’s handsome face.

“I just prefer playing this one from the background, you know?”

Soothed by her fast clarification, Mataeo gave a slow nod.

Temple leaned over and tugged his jacket lapel as if to set it straight. “You should get going unless you want Sanford Norman entertaining Mr. Yates over drinks while they wait for you.”

“Right.” Mataeo grimaced and pushed himself from the desk. “I’ll see you later. You’re heading home, right?”

It wasn’t exactly a question. He knew his right arm/ best friend well enough to know her routine rarely changed unless he changed it.

He stopped just before the double doors to his office suite and turned to ply her with a crooked smile. “Last chance for lunch? My treat?”

Temple blew him a kiss. “Good luck.”

North Shipping may have been one of the many exporting businesses along the Eastern Seaboard but few compared to the savvy of its owner and the success he’d garnered in the field. Much of that had to do with the crew of employees Mataeo surrounded himself with. Everyone was at the top of their game from the entry-level shipping clerks to the man’s righthand/right arm, Temple Grahame.

The fact that they were friends—the best of friends, for many years—was an added perk in an already powerful relationship. Taeo and Temp, as they were known by most of their business associates, seemed to complement each other in every situation, be it professional or personal.

Of course, everyone speculated that they were more than friends. This was no surprise considering Mataeo North was both idolized and envied by most men he knew. This fact had as much to do with his business prowess as it had to do with his sexual conquests.

With that in mind, a woman like Temple Grahame wouldn’t spend her days in his sights and remain unnoticed for long. Especially when her looks—as well as her personality—were enough to literally stop a man. With her wide, hazel stare and soft hypnotic voice, Temple struck most as delicate, understated and nonconfrontational. She was, without a doubt, the polar opposite of her boss.

Temple Grahame, however, was no floor mat. That truth was simply one of the millions of reasons Mataeo North trusted her with his life and livelihood.

Sequestered in the mellow environment of her office, Temple wouldn’t let herself dwell on how her leaving would affect him. Thankfully, there was a knock on her door that set aside the troubling thoughts that were rising. She left her desk when she saw Megaleen Barnum poke her head inside the room.

“This a good time?” Megaleen called out with a wave and a smile.

“Perfect time,” Temple greeted her attorney with a hug.

“So how goes the head-hunting?” Megaleen set her things on the cream suede sofa near the door.

“I think I’ve pretty much narrowed it down.” Temple sounded upbeat. “Taeo’s gonna need quite a few people in here to handle everything he’s got me covering.”

“Including screening calls from jilted lovers?”

“Shh…” Temple scolded her friend playfully. “There’re some things he’s gonna have to learn to handle on his own.”

“So are you sure he’ll let you go just like that when you tell him what you have in mind?” Meg asked once their laughter had softened.

“I don’t see why not.” Temple propped one hand on her hip and massaged her neck with the other. “People resign positions every day, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” Meg strolled the office with hands propped on her hips, as well. “But there is the potential for drama and speculation when the one resigning is second in command for a multinational shipping corporation.” Meg turned to face her client with a curious light blue stare. “Do you really think it’ll be a stress-free event?”

“Oh, Meg.” Temple massaged her neck with both hands then. “I don’t expect it to be blissful, but it won’t be overwhelming. I’m putting a lot of good people in place here.” Her voice held the slightest twinge of doubt.

Meg heard it clearly. “Mataeo won’t be the only one with questions, you know?” She smoothed her black pin-striped skirt and took one of the chairs in front of Temple’s desk. “The first thing people will think is that there are business woes and that you’re getting out while the gettin’s good.”

Temple smirked and took her place along an overextended windowsill. “No, Meg, the first thing people will think is that we had some kind of lover’s spat and that I’m leaving him over it.”

Megaleen focused on her twiddling thumbs and didn’t reply. It went without saying that her client/friend had taken the unfair brunt of the negative aspects to being the right arm of one of the most powerful men in the shipping world.

Mataeo North had garnered money, success and adoration—sexual and scholarly. Temple, meanwhile, had dealt with the rumors, name-calling and doubts over whether she was truly qualified to hold such a weighty post.

As if she could have done anything about it had she tried. Looking the way she did, the assumption was that she’d reached such lofty heights working from the bedroom or wherever Mataeo North desired to have her. The woman was far too lovely to have made her way in the world by using her brain of all things.

Megaleen had heard it too often in the circles she ran in as a business attorney. Most of the women Mataeo employed hated her friend with a passion. Their reasons had little to do with the intellect and business savvy Temple possessed, but with the coffee-brown complexion that needed no enhancements. Meg doubted the woman owned a lick of foundation. Then there was the healthy bust and bottom size, model-quality legs and the almost nonexistent waistline which set the envy a step further.

“He’ll understand why I need to do this.” Temple’s soft voice sounded even fainter as she studied the view of Wilmington’s city streets below. “As long as we keep our friendship intact—that’s the most important thing.”

Meg smothered a sigh while flipping a lock of auburn hair between her fingers. Temple Grahame’s greatest asset was her kindness and she paid dearly for it. She truly believed that decency and treating others fairly would ensure the same treatment in return. Oh, boy, didn’t she believe that about Mataeo North, Meg mused.

Pushing out of the chair, Megaleen headed for the coffee table while praying Temple never had to find out otherwise. She took the portfolio from the table and gave it a wave.

“Should we go over this before either of us gets called away?”

Roaring laughter from the table of five men drew hardly any attention—most of the tables inside the G-Red Gallery were filled with laughing men. The place was a popular lunch destination specializing in steak, seafood and beer created in-house by the establishment’s own brewery.

Manson Yates’s happy bellow, though, could easily rival any of the other male patrons’ in the place.

“Good thinkin’, San, for suggesting this place!” Manson clapped Sanford Norman’s shoulder. “I don’t travel down to G-Red nearly as much as I used to.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Yates.” Sanford attempted a humble nod while sending a cunning wink in Mataeo’s direction.

Unfazed, Mataeo tilted his beer mug in a mock toast. “Does business keep you away, sir?” he asked Manson Yates.

The older man chuckled. “Hell no, this place is perfect for business! No, son, my reason is far more demanding than business—it’s my wife!”