Lucifer's Lover (2 page)

My son needed to design a commercial graphic for a graphic arts course he was completing, and he offered to design a cover for me, for
Lucifer’s Lover
, which had just been sold to Archebooks. I gave him the synopsis, he asked me a few questions about what I had envisioned for a cover, and went away. The cover he came up with was simple, delightful and perfect for the book. It said it all, and I was over the moon about it. I was so thrilled, in fact, that I sent a copy to my editor, and very politely asked what they thought about it.

They thought it was fabulous, too, and it was shipped off to the art department, pronto. Then came the bad news; the image my son had used had limited copyright, and couldn’t be used for commercial purposes. But the art department liked the cover so much, that they built a similar cover, using commercial images.

For this second edition, I turned to Dar Albert, who does all my independently published book covers.
 
I’ve raved about Dar and her god-like abilities to read my mind elsewhere (in
The Royal Talisman
, for instance), so I will simply say I handed over the information about
Lucifer’s Lover
this time, knowing I would get a stunning cover.
 
I also handed over my son’s 100%-awarded art school cover, too.
 
The results of any input I give Dar are always interesting.
 
You’re holding those results in your hand(s).

(An original version of this essay first appeared on
Stories Rule in
June 2, 2007.
 
This version has been updated and extended.)

To Terry:

After all, you got 100% for the cover.

Acknowledgements

Dar, always.
 
You know why.

Chapter One

Lindsay knew she was the only marketing manager in history who fought off nausea every time she called a department meeting to order. She wasn’t naturally people-oriented the way her staff was, so leading a room full of extroverts kept her adrenaline pumping like
Old Faithful
.

And then there was Luke Pierse, on top of that.

She always came out of these meetings with spaghetti knees and an antacid habit that made Woody Allen look cool and collected.

As she tried to settle into this month’s meeting, she told herself the worst was over. She was here, the meeting was rolling. Just tough it out for a little longer, then she could flee back to her office and wish for the millionth time she had not been so genetically cursed when it came to dealing with people, or that she had spent at least some time during her school years learning how to get along with others, instead of burying her nose in textbooks.

She surreptitiously wiped her hand on her skirt to dry the moist palm. Tim, her assistant, held out a clean handkerchief to her, underneath the tabletop so no one else could see it.

She took it and squeezed his wrist as a silent thank you. His gaze flickered in her direction, before returning to the other end of the table, where one of the salespeople was giving his report. Tim had gone through school with her, had been her next door neighbor since preschool and was still a steadfast, understanding friend. He knew how these events made her guts roil and her brow sweat. He also understood that the rest of the world was never to know the truth.

The salesman sat down. Her turn. Everyone was looking at her.

Her heart thudding, she tucked Tim’s handkerchief back into his waiting hand and put her palms flat on the folder in front of her. She straightened her spine, to look as in-control as possible.

“It was a bad month,” she told them, keeping her voice low so it wouldn’t tremble. “You’re all aware of this and you’ve all just heard each others’ summaries about the troubles we’re having.”

Everyone nodded slightly. Agreeing. Except for Luke Pierse. He sat at the far corner of the long table, leaning well back. He was watching her, the black eyes almost drilling through her.

As always, she wondered if he could see past her bluff and knew of the wholesale sickness that wrenched at her. Of course, he would feel no such qualms about leading these people. He never felt qualms about anything. Or did he?

She just didn’t know Pierse well enough, despite the fact that he’d been working for her for two years.

She pulled her gaze to the middle of the table, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. “Worse, this month is the third consecutive month our figures have been down,” she added.

“Figures are down everywhere, boss.” Luke’s tone was reasonable and his expression unreadable.

For an endless moment, Lindsay stared at him, wondering how she was supposed to answer that.

The problem with Luke was that he wasn’t good looking enough, she decided. The dark, dark hair that wasn’t quite a perfect pitch-black, for instance. It was a deep shade of brown, which cast subtle highlights in sunlight and contrasted with the thick dark mass beneath to create an interesting affect.

The face wasn’t precisely perfect. His jaw was solid instead of refined and there was a dimple on the chin that wasn’t quite symmetrical. And too, there was a barely visible scar—a tiny one—on the corner of his jaw, that always made her wonder how he’d got it.

His teeth were wonderfully white—she knew that from watching him throw his head back and laugh. Usually at her expense. But the teeth weren’t totally straight. No braces had ever smoothed them out to bland perfection. His hands were large and useful, the wrists strong with muscle but the fingers were unexpectedly long, like a sensitive artist’s hands.

And the eyes… She’d learned his black eyes gave away nothing. They danced all too often with amusement, humor, or mischief but rarely anything else. Except that on the odd occasion when she’d come upon him quietly, she had caught an expression that was almost contemplative and far away. On those few times she had assumed he’d been thinking about his beloved New York.

All in all, the little imperfections gave him an intangible sense of character. It hinted of a past. And that was just the problem. If he had been model-perfect, if he had the immaculate grooming and plastic perfection of the oily, endlessly charming salesman, she might have been able to dismiss his presence from her mind and from her office.

He was a brilliant marketing man, though.

And now he was challenging her again. As usual, Lindsay couldn’t think of a response that would put him back in his place, or ruffle his composure even just a little bit.

She glanced away from Luke, letting her gaze fall to the manila folder beneath her palms that held the summary of monthly figures. That gave her the answer she needed.

She looked Luke in the eye. “Figures are down everywhere,” she agreed and paused minutely. “Including yours.”

She reached quickly for the folder that Tim was patiently holding, trying to stall the response she knew Luke would shoot back. But it wasn’t quite fast enough for her to miss seeing Luke’s jaw begin to descend, the eyes to widen.

She lifted the bright red folder so everyone could see it. “Now, Vince Gormley has agreed that figures have been lousy for a while because of the unseasonable weather but we’re coming up on Christmas and the snow has come in just fine. Recalcitrant weather won’t do as an excuse anymore.”

Alexander, the third best salesman in the marketing team, shook his head. “It’s not just the weather. Ever since the Sherbourne Hotel added that convention center, they’ve been killing us.”

“They’ve been marketing pretty heavily,” Timothy added. “They’re all over the internet.”

Lindsay shook her head. “That’s no excuse. Competition is the name of the game. That’s why we have jobs in the first place. That’s why marketing was invented.”

“I heard Edison invented it to keep himself occupied on long journeys.” It was Luke’s voice. Of course it would be Luke, she thought grimly.

There were grins and muffled laughs around the table but they quickly died. Luke looked in Lindsay’s direction and shrugged. “Well, who’d want to do it anywhere else except on a slow boat to China?”

She ignored him because she couldn’t think of a decent answer. Even if she’d had ten minutes to find one, she wouldn’t. Luke had rattled her. Again. Mentally, she sighed. How did he leave her speechless so damn easily? What was it about him that aggravated her, every time he opened his mouth?

Lindsay chose not to respond. Instead, she pushed the red file out into the middle of the table. “I heard on the grapevine the other day that the Washington State Medical Association is shopping around for a new AGM location. They love holding the AGM here in Deerfoot Falls but they’re unhappy with the Sherbourne Hotel. They feel it’s too commercial.”

She watched the realization move around the table like a wave of warm air.

“We could steal one of Sherbourne’s richest accounts from them,” Alexander murmured, with an eager expression.

“Yes, we could,” Lindsay agreed, lifting her voice a little over the murmurs and comments around the table. “We’re supposed to bring in business for the hotel but we seem to have lost sight of that basic fact. This should serve as an overdue reminder.”

“Who gets to go after the account?” Luke asked loudly.

Silence greeted him as they all looked at each other, their expressions suddenly guarded. Even with her stunted abilities to analyze people, Lindsay knew the desire to win the account for themselves had suddenly bloomed in every salesman’s heart around the table.

“Are you suggesting you should get the account?” Lindsay asked Luke, choosing her words so there was not even an accidental implication that she was offering it to him.

“I bring in more business than anyone here,” Luke countered.

“Almost everyone.”

“
Everyone
, including you. Timothy ran figures for me, spread over the last six months. I’ve brought in two thousand dollars more than you.”

“Two thousand is chicken feed,” Lindsay protested.

“It’s still two thousand more than you bought in,” Luke said flatly.

Impossible
. Lindsay sat silently, trying to counter this unprecedented change. Luke was doing better than her? That wasn’t part of the plan. No one could do better than her. How had she allowed this to happen?

“Face it, Lindsay,” Luke said quietly. “I’m the best salesman you’ve got. I should get the chance to land the account.”

It was almost impossible to tear her gaze away from his black eyes. They were challenging. Intimidating, if she was being completely honest.

“I’m the manager of the department,” Lindsay countered, knowing it was a pathetic response. She wanted this account for herself, now. She needed to shore up her record. Giving the account to Luke was a certain way to lose even more ground. The manager of the hotel, Vince Gormley, already thought Luke walked on water. What would he think if Luke pulled in the state’s Medical Association and the lucrative five year contract they were dangling?

“What about both of you, then?” Tim said. It was the first time he had spoken all meeting and she knew he was jumping in because he’d seen she couldn’t find a response. No one in the room had noticed her struggle except Tim.

“Both of us?” Luke shrugged, like the idea didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Why not?”

“Not in a million years!” Lindsay shot back.

Luke studied her and for a brief moment it felt eerily like they were the only two in the room. Lindsay’s heart boomed with a sickly mix of adrenaline and, yes, fear too. What
was
he thinking when he looked at her that way? Did he do it just to confound her? Maybe he did. It worked so well, after all.

She clenched her hand to hide the trembling in it, still unable to look away from his black gaze.

“What’s wrong, boss? Can’t you stand the competition?” His voice was low, almost like he was speaking only to her.

“I didn’t mean as a competition…” Timothy began.

“Yeah, a competition!” Alexander crowed. “
All right
.” He rubbed his hands together.

“No. No contest!” Lindsay had to lift her voice.

“It’s just a friendly competition,” someone called.

“I’ve seen these ‘friendly’ competitions before,” Lindsay said. “People get obsessed by them. Next thing you know, the staff of the entire hotel will be taking side bets.”

“I can arrange that,” Alexander volunteered.

“I said
no
.” It was already getting out of hand. She needed to stop this right now.

“What if the stakes were high enough?” Luke asked with an innocent expression Lindsay knew with complete certainty was a facade. Luke had bypassed innocence when he moved from childhood to devil in one giant leap. Lucifer Furey Pierse. Even the name suited him.

A tiny touch of fear fluttered through her. She just didn’t know him well enough. That was the problem. She couldn’t anticipate what he might be planning. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t care what the stakes are. I’m not doing it.”

“What do you most want in the world?” Luke asked.