Conflict of Interest Read online

  Conflict of Interest

  A Mustang Prairie Romance

  By N.D. Jackson

  The characters, events and places portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2014 by Natasha D. Jackson

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods without the express prior written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2014

  About The Author

  N.D. Jackson discovered her first book at the ripe old age of 7 and has been plowing through the written word ever since. Whether Judy Blume, Sweet Valley High or Christopher Buckley, N.D. enjoys spending a day with a good story. At the age of 10 N.D. put her first story on paper, something about a young girl helping the President fight the bad guys and ending up with the First Son. Since that story first graced the coveted position of the family hall, also known as the refrigerator, she has been writing stories from romance to political comedies. As a die-hard political junkie many of her stories contain some element of politics or public policy because nothing gets the juices flowing like a passionate debate!

  Raised in the suburbs of Chicago, N.D. has lived from one ocean to the other in her homeland and just about everywhere in between, and calls Germany home for now. She isn’t quite sure where she will end up next but swears it could be London, France, Croatia, Australia, Switzerland, Denmark or Johannesburg. She loves to travel and observe the world with her husband, who sometimes can’t tell if she’s talking to herself or her characters.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  PROLOGUE

  “Hey ho, KitchenMart has got to go! Hey, ho ho, Kitchen Mart has got to go.” The chanting had grown louder since he arrived at the office early this morning, when there were just a handful of protestors who had forgotten that the sixties were over. Noel Hampton was staring down with tired eyes at the protestors who were determined to ruin his day, from the top floor of a six story building that KitchenMart called headquarters.

  “Why are they protesting us? If it weren’t for us there would be zero jobs in Belle Terre!” The frustration he felt was written all over his face. Dark lines creased his otherwise boyishly handsome features. His normally glinting green eyes were flat and dark almost black today. They were no longer sparkling the way they did when he flashed his smile at all the women in his office or the manufacturers he dealt with right before they agreed to some project that in no way benefitted their respective companies. The sparkle was gone but he was still a gorgeous man who turned heads wherever he went, even deep in frustration.

  He hadn’t even wanted to go to Belle Terre and he certainly didn’t want to go to Mustang Prairie, but it was now out of his control. His boss, Rich, had done a real sell on him.

  “Noel,” he said in his fake best friend voice, “I’ve got a great opportunity for you, man.” And since Rich has never done anything kind for anyone without it benefitting him, Noel knew that he wouldn’t like this so called ‘great opportunity’. “How would you like to run our new Midwest headquarters?”

  Noel stood, mouth slightly open staring at Rich who had just offered him the chance to advance his career seven years ahead of schedule. “I’d love to Rich. What’s the catch?”

  Rich leaned back in a plush leather chair in their new Belle Terre office folding his hands behind his wheat colored hair, every single tooth shining brightly as if tiny elves did the job personally each morning. He propped his leather encased feet on the edge of his large white oak desk and they landed with a thud as he crossed them at the ankles. “Catch? There is no catch Noel. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. You’ll be President of KitchenMart. In charge of day to day operations, marketing, promotions and expansion. You can choose your own team and do as you like. As long as you end every quarter in the black.”

  Noel nodded foolishly for what felt like an eternity before gathering his senses and asking the important questions. “Which floor is mine?” It was a silly question really since all of Kitchen Corp’s were located in one building in the heart of Manhattan, so really it was a matter of where his office would be on Monday morning.

  The luster from Rich’s smile was a little less bright as he slowly unfolded his long legs, making a loud clunk as each of his designer shoes hit the industrial carpeting. Rich sighed heavily as he put his palms on his knees and reluctantly pushed himself off the leather chair and made his way toward Noel. “Well buddy that’s the thing, the new office will be in Mustang Prairie.” Rich patted his shoulder with empty sympathy as though someone had died, shaking his head in condolences.

  “Mustang Prairie? Well I guess upstate isn’t so bad if I made it six months in Belle Terre. I can still come to the city on the weekends. What’s close to Mustang Prairie?” Noel didn’t like the idea of living outside the city, but his career trajectory was on an upward swing so he would make the best of it any way he could. In seven years’ time he would be moving back to run the New York offices.

  “Mustang Prairie, Illinois, Noel.”

  Noel stared, speechless for once in his over articulated life. The idea of leaving the city, nevermind the state, had honestly never occurred to him no matter how enticing the offer.

  Rich could see that Noel was confused and explained that the town of Mustang Prairie was ‘this close,’ he held his thumb and forefinger mere centimeters apart, to bankruptcy and the company could open its operations and a new store there for one-tenth of what it would cost in the city. “So all you have to do is get it all up and running by the end of the year.”

  Oh, that’s all, Noel thought to himself, torn about this new development. His entire life was here in the city; his parents, his younger sister, his friends and even a series of on-again off-again relationships. They were all here in the city where his life had been for nearly a decade. In a place like Mustang Prairie women would expect you to marry them by the third date. With the enormous to do list currently developing in his head, he wouldn’t have time to see many women outside his bedroom. “What? No! I can’t leave the city. My whole life is here!”

  Rich scoffed and laughed. “What life Noel? The parents you avoid or the sister you share drinks with once a month, or wait I know, the endless string of women you never see for more than a few dates? That life?”

  Rich could be such a dick sometimes but Noel had to admit that he was right. There was no good reason for him to stay. Except he really didn’t want to go. “But…”

  “Oh but nothing. Noel Hampton you will set up this office in Mustang Prairie and do a kickass job so that in a few years you’ll be my boss. Understand?”

  Noel nodded, resigned to life in a small town he’d never heard of. “So…Mustang Prairie?”

  Rich patted
him on the back, tossing his head back in a raucous laugh. “You’ll love Mustang Prairie. I grew up not far from there.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Shellie Winthrop stomped around her kitchen ranting to her best friend Alexis for the third time today while searching for a corkscrew. Several unruly curls crept free from the silky scarf binding it as she spotted the shiny contraption buried under a few invoices she had yet to send off. “Ah, there it is! Now where was I?” She attempted to blow the defiant curls from her left eye in exasperation.

  “You were yelling about how pointless it is to help people who don’t want to be helped.” Alexis and Shellie had been friends since elementary school and this was the first time she’d ever heard her friend so angry.

  “I was yelling?” Shellie merely thought she had been heated in her rationale. “Maybe I raised my voice a little, but yelling? Come on Al.”

  Alexis shook her chocolate locks. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing the upstairs unit is still vacant or you’d have a mighty ticked off tenant.” She laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood.

  Shellie knew her frustration had been reaching a tipping point lately, but the look in Alexis’ light brown eyes told her that she was close to psychosis. Finally easing the cork from the bottle of Bordeaux she was opening--at two o’clock in the afternoon thank you very much—she reached for the stylish new glasses she purchased during a recent retail therapy session. She grabbed one rose tinted Burgundy glass with an oversized bowl and tilted it toward her ample hips, pouring several glugs in before handing it off to Alexis. “Ok so maybe I was a little on the loud side, but I work hard every single day for these businesses. Every. Day!”

  “I know Shel, but-“

  “Some of them don’t even pay me or if they do, they pay me in wine and cupcakes and hardware!” She reached for her own glass and began to pour. “I don’t mind being paid that way, I swear I don’t Al. But what I mind,” she continued to pour without regard to how many glugs had already found their way into the bowl of her glass. She was violating her own 3 glug per glass rule. “I mind that they don’t seem to care either way if their business shut down. Do you know what would happen to Mustang Prairie if they all closed up shop?” It wasn’t really a question, just the last few days getting to her.

  Ever since she’d become the Crusader of Mustang Prairie, as most of the town called her, she’d experienced more frustration than she ever though imaginable. Being an efficiency expert, or Business Consultant as she preferred, it was her job to not only help the businesses in town stay afloat, but to turn a profit to keep the town vibrant and free from the enticement of corporate franchises. Her tiny store front office had become the town center by default, milling with people all day long sharing town gossip, business strategies and outrage.

  “I know Al, I live here too.” Alexis took a sip of her wine. A long slow sip to dull the sound of her friend’s overexcited voice.

  “Of course you do, Al. I’m sorry,” she was still pouring blindly on the verge of disaster. “I just don’t lump you in with them because you’re one of the few businesses that don’t actually need my help.” Her and Anda Blekovic, whom Shellie refused to think about in her already excitable state. “I would kill for profit minded clients like you. Literally Al, I would kill.” The more she thought about it, the more she realized it wasn’t just hyperbole. Alexis had a thriving three-story business, World of Wonder, that featured a beauty salon on the first floor, a gym on the second and a spa on the third where the men and women of Mustang Prairie could get waxed, massaged, dipped in mud or wrapped in organic Tahitian seaweed whenever they wanted or needed to. Thinking what she could do with a business like that, Shellie began to think about plans to expand Alexis’ property and promote Mustang Prairie’s quiet bucolic atmosphere as a spa getaway. And in a time where the word ‘staycation’ had become commonplace, she could picture Chicagoans taking the 3 hour trek for a quiet and relaxing weekend ‘in the country’, which would mean more business for the struggling hotel in town. And that thought gave her headache a deeper intensity.

  The wine was slowly flowing into Alexis’ veins warming her from the inside out. Suddenly finding her friend’s words funny, she let a throaty giggle escape from her, throwing her sleek locks back. “Fine Shel, you can sign me up too, just don’t kill anyone!”

  Shellie looked at her gorgeous friend with her shiny dark brown hair looking as if it were freshly ironed. She envied how Alexis’ hair dried perfectly straight and how easily a simple smile lit up her entire face. She couldn’t help but lighten up a little. Watching Alexis laugh always gave her a case of the giggles. “Girl, I think this Bordeaux has already gone to your head.”

  Alexis looked up, “Oh no Shel, the wine!”

  ##

  Noel was nervous about his new life in this small town. Sure, it was beautiful without a doubt. More trees than he’d seen in all his time in New York. So far his biggest problem had been what he was forced to pay the cabbie up front, just to take him so far from civilization. He sat quietly in the back watching the scenery become greener and greener, wondering if there were any people in this town to populate the opulent office space Rich had secured for the new Midwest headquarters.

  He stared down at the address he’d given the cab driver. His pulse quickened at the idea that he would have to live in anything but a sky rise apartment but his assistant had set up an appointment for a place that would ‘feel like home’ in her words. He seriously doubted that. But if the place was halfway decent it would be one less thing he would have to worry about as he settled in for world domination.

  Rich warned Noel that the town might not be as welcoming as it should be considering its current economic state so rather than don one of his expensive tailored three-piece suits that draped his body perfectly he wore distressed jeans in a midnight blue, a fitted grey t-shirt and his favorite pair of casual grey loafers. He looked casual and approachable, and hopefully normal enough that he wouldn’t get assaulted by picketers and rotten eggs, as was common at the New York and Belle Terre offices.

  “We’re here sir. I’ll get your bags.”

  He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed the cab had stopped.

  He stared at the cabbie, who was older than him yet addressing him as sir. “Don’t worry about the bags, I can handle them.” He nodded a smile in the grey-haired man’s direction and made sure to hand him a hefty tip, even if the fare was extortion.

  The cabbie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Thank you sir, enjoy your stay in Mustang Prairie.”

  Noel’s head jerked back, “You know this place?” Any information he could get ahead of time would be helpful.

  The cabbie nodded with effort. “Yeah, my wife’s cousin lives down here. She’s some sort of organic granola fitness type I guess, but she’s been here for years. It’s a lovely place, but a little too quiet for my likin’.”

  “Tell me about it,” Noel shook his head, grumbling and decided instantly that he liked this man, even if he had been the one to bring him to what he decided would be his prison for the next few years.

  “Good luck to you, sir. You’ll do fine I’m sure of it.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not so sure.” He really wasn’t, he realized looking around at the quiet tree lined street trying to acclimate himself to his new surroundings. It was Friday afternoon and there were no children playing in the street or old people peeking out old fashioned curtains or sitting on their stoops. He was sure this place was a ghost town. He looked back for assurance from his driver but all he could spot was the yellow vehicle making a sharp right about 5 houses down. He took in a deep breath, smelling fresh cut grass and the smell of laundry on a line in the distance, exhaled and started up the walkway. “It’s all you now, Noel.”

  Noel turned to look at the renovated prairie house. His assistant told him that it was now two separate units and he could see small areas of modernity. What he noticed most however was that the left side of the lar
ge white house contained a bright green door and yellow window shutters and the right side held a yellow door with green shutters. Every single window had its own box of brightly colored flowers springing forth and an attic window proudly displayed the American flag. Making his way up the five short steps he noticed another renovation was the large farmer’s porch with a swinging wooden bench and two sturdy looking rocking chairs. “Quaint,” he said to himself as though the word left a bad taste in his mouth.

  He sat down his suitcase, duffel bag and brief case and straightened his shirt which had wrinkled from the long plane ride and even longer drive. Running his long fingers through his wavy hair he caught a glimpse of the daisy shaped welcome mat beneath his shoes. “Just great,” he said aloud before pressing the doorbell with his thumb. The traditional ding-dong of the doorbell caused a wayward smile to spread across his face and he began to think that maybe this might not be so bad.

  “Come in!”

  He grabbed the silver doorknob and twisted, allowing the heavy green door to swing open. “Hello?” Noel could hear faint voices deeper in the house. He slowly made his way to them, noticing the homey, if brightly colored, décor of what he hoped would be his new home.

  “Back here.” A feminine voice called out.

  There was water running behind a deep blue swinging door and he gently pushed it open with his strong hand. “I’m Noel Ha—“ He was stopped mid-word by the sight of a mop of curls bouncing feverishly as their owner stood over the kitchen sink in a flowing pink skirt and a deliciously sexy purple lace bra. He wanted to turn his head away but the freckles on her honey colored back beckoned to him. There just above the strap of her bra the freckles, when connected, could form the Little Dipper, or the Big Dipper he wasn’t really certain but he knew one of the Dippers lie there waiting to be connected by his finger or tongue or any other body part she would let touch her soft skin.