#LUCKY (The Empire Series Book 2) (9 page)

"
V
ivienne
, I can explain," Sam pleaded before she could allow she-bitch to pounce.

"What's there to explain? This is fantastic! The best part, we have a head start on all the magazines, not to mention the gossip."

"You are shamelessly supportive in the most bizarre way," Sam smiled.

"You did get her to sign the waiver before the interview, right?" Vivienne looked wide-eyed at Sam.

"Yep. The contract binds her to us publishing her story. Whether that story was the initial one to begin with, well, that's a whole other ballgame."

"As soon as we obtained her contract, she can't sue," Vivienne cackled from her massive leather chair.

"I want this on the front page of our website, as well as featured story in the magazine. I've got the top dogs breathing down my neck lately about moving forward with the new website, so we need juicy content."

Sam was overjoyed at Vivienne's enthusiasm. She needed a pick-me-up after the hell she had been going through over the last month or so.

"Get with the graphics department and coordinate the layout. I need eye catching. Jaw dropping."

"I'm all over it, Viv."

Sam left the office feeling almost woozy with Vivienne's response. There was a newfound pep in her step.

"What's gotten in to you," Ariel and Quinn stopped her in her Jimmy's.

"Vivienne is sticking me on the front page of this month's issue!"

"Holy shit, babe! That's awesome," Ariel congratulated.

"This doesn't have anything to do with our visit to Club Star, does it?" Quinn questioned speculatively.

"Perhaps, but you're the one to talk. What's up with you and...oh, what did you call him? Onyx?"

"Wouldn't you loooove to know," she joked.

"Hey now, I need the scoop. Just because I have Owen, doesn't mean I get cut out of everything," Ariel begged.

"Fill her in while I go to the graphics department to talk about this cover," Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

Turning into the graphics department, Sam nearly ran over a striking gentleman in a crisp, black suit. He was handsome all the way down to his intense brown eyes. He didn't smile, but glared at Sam with a dismissive expression.

"Who are you?" Sam asked out of shock.

Most artists in the design room were free spirited and more laid back. This was the last person she thought she would see around the art department.

"I happen to be, Luca Manning. And you are?"

"I'm Sam, and I'm kinda in a hurry Luca."

"I like to see my employees hustle," he smirked.

"Does Vivienne Harper know you're here?" she questioned as her pulse began to throb in her veins. She had just written an amazing story, she didn't need to get fired already.

"Not yet, but I'll tell her what an exceptional employee she has. Keep it up," he looked stern as he turned and headed out the door.

Something as going down, but she didn’t have time to poke around.

After hours of fighting with the creative department, Sam finally settled on the perfect cover. Now, all she needed to do was wait for it to hit the stands.

"
S
ami
, mails here!" Ariel hollered from the foyer.

Lying on the counter was a crisp copy of Empire Magazine. Displayed on the cover was an homage to the classic paper doll cut outs from her childhood. The doll was Demi, while her paper clothes were samples from her own collection including a very special orange jumpsuit.

"Listen to this," Ariel read out aloud to Owen, Sam, and Declan.

N
ot long ago
, my Editor and Chief approached me to cover a story regarding a rumor, which had been floating around the fashion world. My job – to find out the truth. Normally, I would report on the latest footwear trends, or even a new line from a well-known designer. What I didn't expect was the whirlwind that was Demi Pepper.

F
or those not in
the know, Demi was one of the hottest up and comers in the fashion industry. I will say that her attention to detail and her scrupulous precision are not of this world. She is an idealist who saw herself soaring the likes of Versace and Stella McCarthy. Her innovative styles were unparalleled to others on the market.

H
er downfall
? Her need to succeed by any means necessary.

D
emi Pepper grew
up as an only child in a cozy farm town in Pepper, Kansas. Daughter to Elsa and George Dower, her need to escape her past was insatiable. Like most small town girls, when the opportunity to flee presented itself, she seized it. Changing her last name to Pepper, she was no longer Elsa and George's farm fed daughter, but an entirely different person all together.

G
reed is a funny thing though
, and some would go to drastic means in order to be on top. I was sent to report on the mastermind partnership between Demi and beloved designer, Isaac Mizrahi. However, that's not going to happen. The only designing Demi will be doing involves prison stripes, or a lovely shade of orange.

W
hy you ask
? With the help of an anonymous tip, and San Francisco's finest, Demi's involvement with notorious gambling connoisseur, Ashley Levingstein, was exposed. After further investigating, and countless hours of interrogating, Demi admitted her association with the gambling giant. I guess we're not in Kansas anymore, are we?

A
ccording to public record
, Demi used countless funds from her, and her girlfriend, Ashley's, underground gambling circuit to start her new line. Reporting it under the table, she used the school as a guise to protect her reputation and to deter authorities. It would have worked out, however she met a determined writer who was resolute to prove her otherwise.

F
or now
, the only designing Demi Pepper will be doing is with her paper dolls behind bars. You never know, jail stripes could be the new in thing.

"
I
'm
afraid to ask how you found all of this information," Ariel questioned with a concerned look on her face.

"Let's just say that this is the one, and only time I will ever thank Cory for anything."

"Speaking of which, how is your sister doing?" Dec asked carefully.

"She’s refusing to see or talk to me," Sam frowned.

"Be patient, love, it's only been two months. She had a lot of issues, not to mention, she's going through withdraws so she's going to be angry for a while. She sees this as a betrayal, the same way you felt when she slept with Cory. Just give it time," Declan curled up to Sam.

"I hate when you're always right. It's rather infuriating," she smiled as she rested into his arms.

"Aye, that's why you love me so much," he winked at her before kissing her nose.

"Hey, Ariel, I ran into this guy at work last week...Manning, Luca Manning. Ever heard of him?"

Literally spitting out her drink onto Owen, "Wait. He was at the office?"

"Yeah, who the fuck is he? I think I was pretty rude to him," Sam stated marginally humiliated.

"Oh, you know, only the owner of our parent company, and the one who signs your checks," she laughed as she wiped her chin from the liquid debris.

"Huh?"

"He's practically the sole owner of The Airlon Company. He owns five magazines. His umbrella is really impressive actually."

"Shit on a stick," Sam gasped.

"Pretty much."

   "I don't know what he wants, but I'm sure it can't be good."

    "I guess we should cheers to our jobs right now," Ariel joked.

    "I think you ladies worry too much," Owen laughed.

    "I tend to agree with the fella," Declan approved. "Let's just enjoy this moment, while we have it."

    "Yeah, like the fact that I just asked Ariel to move in with me. We'll just be down the hall, but..." Owen started.

    "...but I won't be far! And, I'll still help with rent until, or if, you decide you want a roommate."

    "That's a lot to take in, but I'm really thrilled for you, Ari," Sami looked panicky at her impending future.

    "Okay, enough of the heavy shit, time to drink," Owen lifted his glass.

    "Here, here," Sam raised her glass. "Here's to good fortune, good friends, and extraordinary love."

    "Cheers!" The four said in unison.

    "Can I steal away this one for a little?" Declan clutched Sam's waist as they stood to leave the room.

    "Please, she's starting to get on my nerves," Ariel laughed.

    The two made there way toward her bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, Declan pushed Sam up against the door, kissing up her neck.

    "This seems familiar," she moaned into his embrace.

    "There's a reason for that," he ran his lips up her neck.

    "And why is that?" she asked as her head naturally leaned, exposing more of her collar.

    "This is how it all began, remember?"

    "How could I forget?" she snickered and squirmed in his arms.

    "Aye, I don't want you to forget. Ever," he stated as he stepped away for a moment. "Let's move in together."

    "Yes," she answered quickly.

    "That didn't take too much convincing," he laughed, squeezing her tight.

    "I need a roommate it seems, I love you, and I can get plenty of ass anytime I want. Seems pretty easy to me," she smiled as she pulled him close to her body.

    "Okay," was his only come-back.

    "Good. And, you can be my sugar daddy, just as long as you don't make me do an Irish Car Bomb again," they both laughed.

    "Aye, I can definitely handle that. I can't promise there won't be Irish Car Bombs though. Deal?"

    Pulling Declan into her arms, she whispered into his lips before kissing him senseless, “Deal. But, tell me one thing first."

"What's that?” He smiled brightly at her.

"What the hell does A stór mean?

"My Treasure," he leaned in and kissed her.

"I think that's just your way of trying to get booty," they laughed together as they fell into each other's arms, finally happy at what life had in store for them.

“Aye, A stór.”

  "
A
ri
! Sam! Quinn! Where is everyone, dammit?" Vivienne Harper yelled from her comfy leather chair not comprehending what time it was.

    Standing from her chair, she straightened her pencil skirt as she cracked her neck. There was something extremely venomous about Vivienne Harper. No man could tame her, and no woman could compete with her. She was a beast in her own right - and she knew it.

    Viv had been a predator since the day she was born. The youngest of five kids, she scratched and clawed her way to the top. Growing up in a competitive household only hardened her backbone to be the best at everything; spelling bee champ, class president, and youngest of her other siblings to graduate college, and earn her masters.

    As she stood to exit her office, the gentleman who stepped into her doorframe took her aback. The man had a lethal stare, strategically placed dimple and a body to rival John Cena. Even under his dark suit, she could make out the curves and ridges of his cut chest.

    For the first time in her life, Vivienne felt paralyzed at the sight of a man. Normally, she ignored any, and all distractions if she felt they would hinder her in any way. This was unquestionably going to be a distraction she didn't need, although she desperately wanted.

    With work being her number one priority, her only boyfriends were Hugh Grant, a bottle of red, and a sex toy, or two. Work was her relationship, and that's how she intended to keep it.

    "Vivienne Harper?" The outsider with the dreamy brown eyes asked as she stopped in her tracks.

    "Present," she responded with a dry tone, holding back the drool that wanted to escape her lips.

    "Luca Manning," he extended his large hands, taking in her perfectly manicured fingers.

    Shaking his hand forcefully, her senses were on high alert. Although he was suave and debonair, this chameleon was up to something.
What was his agenda?

     "How can I help you Mr. Manning?" Viv approached apprehensively.

    "I'm from Airlone. I was sent to check on your publication," he gave her a stoic stance.

    "Check on...?" she questioned.

    "...On how you run things here. That's all. We like to check in from time to time," he specified as he let his eyes roam around her office. Landing on her chest, he wasn't ashamed for his obvious interest in her tits.

    Gradually moving his eyes to meet her own, his blunt stare didn't waiver from his stern look. No sign of embarrassment, but defiance, if anything.

    "What happened to Frank?" she questioned. "I've been here for over a decade and I've never seen you. I've always dealt with Frank. And why didn't they tell me you were coming?"

    "Frank is no longer with the company, ma'am. I replaced him just recently. I wanted to come and introduce myself. I wasn't aware that I needed an invitation."

    "Of course you don't need an invitation. I just...," she initiated

    Cutting her off, "...you just what?"

    If there was anything Viv hated more than a dominant asshole, it was a dominant asshole that cut her off and disparaged her.

    "I just wish someone would have informed me of your visit, Mr. Manning," she indicated trying her best to calm her raging interior.

    "Why? Do you have something to hide, Mrs. Harper?" he asked bluntly.

    "It's Ms., and no. Not at all. I would have liked to prepare for your visit, that's all."

    "I will note my error. You don't like to be unprepared, or surprised, do you
MS
. Harper?" he smirked.

    "I tend to fall on the O.C.D. side, so no, not really."

    "You come across as a women who likes to be in charge at all times, am I right?"

    "For the most part, yes. Is that a bad thing in my position, or my line of work?" she felt insulted.

    "Not at all - a woman after my own heart. I think we will get along nicely."

    "How long do you plan to be in town?" she felt suddenly anxious.

    "That is still up in the air," his smirk drew into a hard line.

    "Please, let me set you up with a vacant office while you are here," she insisted.

"I can find a place to land," he pressed himself into her office. Rounding her desk, he took a seat in her chair. "This will do nicely. Do you mind?"

Did she mind? Of course she fucking did. This was her domain. Her office. But what was she supposed to do, say no? This guy controlled her paycheck, and now she had to play nice with the devil. Even if that devil looked damn good in a suit and tie. She hated herself for undressing him with her eyes.

He was vain, offensive, and downright belligerent; the male version of herself.

"Let me just grab my things, and I'll get out of your way," she huffed as she approached her desk.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" Luca smirked, knowing he was getting under her skin.

"At the risk of getting fired or worse, I choose not to answer that. Besides, something tells me you would use my words against me if push came to shove," she bent down to pick up her briefcase, usb flash drive, cell, and unplugged her laptop and charger. "Do you mind passing me my purse over there?" she pointed to his side.

"Not at all MS. Harper," he stated, emphasizing the MS a little too much again.

"What's your deal? Are you one of those egomaniacs that gets high off of smelling people's fear?" she finally balls’d up.

"So you fear me?" he asked as his smile turned grim.

"No, because your cockiness offsets the terror you’re trying to push off on me right now," she growled as she went to snatch her handbag from his fingers.

Luca gripped the handle, refusing to let go as Vivienne scuffed at his rudeness. Giving a gentle tug, he finally let go, rebuking to break eye contact with her. But there it was, that same self-righteous smirk on his lips. She could tell he got off on being the authoritative figure, but he had another thing coming if he thought he was going to intimidate Vivienne Harper.

"I'm going to head home now, if you don't mind," she stated, envisioning her plush pajamas, tall glass of red, and a Grey's Anatomy marathon.

"But it's seven o'clock," he spoke up a little discouraged the banter would seize to exist for the night.

"And? Our offices closed at five."

"Any particular reason you stayed till seven?" he questioned.

"I usually stay later. We have a magazine to publish, after all. I need to make sure all the pieces are in place before I'm satisfied."

"Fascinating," he drummed his fingers across his chin.

"If you say so. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Manning," she turned on her heels to exit the office.

Before she made it one step, Luca yelled from her chair, "Have dinner with me tonight."

"Excuse me?" she stopped abruptly.

"You heard me. Have dinner with me."

"And, why would I do that?" she questioned. She was unsure of his motives, as if he weren't on a corporate level.

"Because I'm higher ranked than you, and I'm asking nicely," he stated with a grin.

"This is you asking nicely? I'd hate to hear what you sound like when you're not so charming," she cocked a sideways grin letting out a chuckle.

"Let's hope you never have to find out," he stared at her.

His steely glare sent chills down her spin as her brain took control of the situation, "No."

"Why not?" he pushed.

"Do I really need an excuse to say no? Goodnight. See you tomorrow...Boss."

This man was going to ruin her.