Revenge, Inc, Part Three

Hey Spanky Friends!

Man, have I been busy getting my next book, Rulebreakers, ready for release. Found the coolest cover, but Kindle won’t print it because it features a naked chick’s behind with a man’s hand on it. Bummer! So back to the drawing board. Should find a suitable replacement, but I really liked that one! Oh, well.

Working hard at getting my next three books together for you guys. I can’t wait to get them released and out to you! Yay!!! Spanky fiction!

So my latest vanilla novel have been read by all the top editors in NY and they all loved it—BUT they don’t want to buy it because my characters are larger-than-life (like yours truly) and they don’t think that the average romance reader could relate to them. So, I’m either going to publish with Newsite (Discipline and Desire) because Reesa is starting a line of vanilla romances or I’m going to self-publish and hawk the books myself. The publishing world is changing fast, my friends. Did you know that more e-books sold last year than paperbacks? The traditional publishers are reacting to the changing paradigm exactly like the record industry has. They are only looking for million-dollar sellers and are allowing the most tepid, vanilla boring crap to be produced for the mass market. But I am riding the new wave and will do well with it. Onward!

Speaking of the new wave, here is today’s chapter of Revenge, Inc. This story is featured in my upcoming book, Straightjacket of Lies.

Have a fantastic Superbowl weekend and for all my friends in the snow—I’m sorry! You poor little icy cold things! Have some hot chocolate on me!

Hugs to you all,
Michelle


Fay finished filling out her deposits. Eight grand, more than she’d made in a week in years. So cool! Finally, a business that worked!

Mitzi popped her head in the door to her office. “You going to the bank now?”

“Yeah. What do we have on for tonight?”

Her partner leaned against the doorjamb. “New account meeting. A Mrs. Wellington.”

Fay nodded, tapping her pencil on top of her desk. “Sounds rich. Anything else?”

“Nope. We see her at six until seven and then we’re free.”

“Cool, I want to catch up on some tube and take a bath.”

“Sounds good. Brad’s taking me out to celebrate our success.”

“Does he know what we’re doing yet?”

Mitzi laughed. “Oh, God, no. He’d divorce me.”

“Really?”

“Let me put it this way, it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“I’m glad I’m single. So what does he think we’re doing?”

“Event planning.”

Fay laughed. “Well, that isn’t a lie.”

Mitzi sent her a smug smile. “I know. Clever, aren’t I?”

“Very. Say, why don’t you let me do the initial interview and you and Brad can start off early on your date?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? I can handle it. Where are we meeting the woman?”

“Marriott on Fourth. Hotel room. She wanted to be discreet. I got all the info here. Room 1411. Supposed to go on up when you got there.”

“Perfect, afterwards I’ll stop by the mall and pick up some take out on the way home.”


At six o’clock on the dot, Fay knocked on Mrs. Wellington’s door. A tall, slender blonde woman answered.

“Fay Wright?” she asked. Her voice was deep and husky. She wore black business suit, Gucci, if Fay wasn’t mistaken.

“Yes.”

“Do come in.” The woman stepped out of the way and allowed Fay to pass. Nice two-room suite with a breathtaking view of the City skyline.

Mrs. Wellington gestured towards two chairs in the corner. “Please sit down. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks.”

The woman sat opposite her in the suite’s living room area.

“Well, Mrs. Wellington, what can I do for you?”

“I’m a friend of Lily Madden’s.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I heard you did her a… um, favor.”

“Yes, I did.”

The woman suddenly brightened. “Did you really embarrass Peter in the middle of Fleur?”

Fay grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

“So how do you… what exactly do you do in these cases? I heard you have an acting background.”

“Yeah, I was a drama teacher until California public schools decided that drama was an extracurricular class they didn’t need. Well, some still offer it, but mostly it’s a dying elective.”

“That’s too bad. So you decided to… how did you get into this?”

Fay shifted in her seat, getting more comfortable. “I taught the child of one of my initial clients. When I lost my job, we stayed in touch, you know, Christmas cards. After my horrible divorce, my husband got everything and I wasn’t too happy about that. So I… went after him. Not formally, because he always won in court, but… behind the scenes. And I mentioned this to Georgia and she loved the idea and hired me to do the same thing to her ex. Only since he didn’t know me, I was able to take her revenge to a higher level. I basically did the same thing to Peter Madden. Accosted him when he was out dating. And then she told her friends and here you are. And here I am. Now tell me, how badly do you want your husband to suffer? And what did he do to you?”

Her delicate brow rose. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Helps motivate me. What your friend Lily told me about Madden, that was plenty motivation. I really only like to attack the more odious guys. But of course, for money, I’ll go after anyone you like. Nothing traceable, of course.”

Mrs. Wellington nodded. “Of course. And you haven’t been caught or—”

“God no. I don’t travel in your circles, so I won’t be likely to run into anyone you know or your husband knows. And this will be our only face-to-face meeting. You tell me what you’d like done, I’ll tell you my price.”

“How far are you willing to go?”

“I won’t hurt him physically. I won’t do anything that will ruin his business, I mean, like stealing or anything very illegal. Basically, all I do is cause a string of bad luck events to happen to him. Cancelled flights, cancelled services, cancelled credit cards at inopportune times, like when he’s seeing his new girlfriend. Basically, I ruin his relationships with his new women. I work mainly in humiliation.”

“You sound like just the girl for me.”

A cell phone rang. Mrs. Wellington reached for her purse and took out her phone. “Yes? What? Wait, I can’t hear you. Let me call you right back.” She turned to Fay. “I need to talk to this person and the only signal I can get is out in the hallway in front of that window near the elevator. Will you excuse me?”

“Sure.”

Mrs. Wellington got up and left the room. Fay wandered over to the window.

“Interesting job. How can you sleep at night?” came a deep voice from behind her, startling her.

She jumped and spun in place. She couldn’t believe it. Peter Madden, standing right there in the doorway to the suite’s bedroom.

©2011, Michelle Carlyle