North Star by Angeline M. Bishop Read Free Book Online

didn’t believe anyone was more of an asset to the firm than her.
    “That’s right and don’t forget, whether I’m in the office or not, be concise, and don’t believe anyone’s sob story if they can’t make my deadlines. Damnit, I need to go. My breakfast has arrived.”
    Caresse heard the disconnection right as she started to say goodbye.
    Most people would become unnerved by Ms. Rogers’ abruptness, but she’d learned long ago that her bark was worse than her bite. As the head partner, she enjoyed intimidating her staff in order to keep everyone alert. She was a proud pupil of the Anna Wintour, School of Decisive Management with a double major in commanding minions and frightening slackers. So her vacation was nothing more than a self-imposed exile to strategize her next steps to combat the other partners’ attempts to curb her antics.
    No sooner had Caresse returned to filing did the telephone ring again. She took a deep breath and answered cheerily, “Ms. Rogers’ office, Caresse speaking. How may I help you?”
    “You can tell me what sexy things he whispered in your ear last night,” Yvette joked before she yawned into the receiver. Caresse knew she was probably still in bed watching the Today Show with her white Persian cat named Cleo.
    “You’re too much.” Caresse’s features became more animated as she began to doodle on a post-it pad near her phone. It was typical for Yvette to call first thing in the morning if there was an opportunity to play matchmaker to the lovelorn. “What makes you think I would tell you the sweet nothings anyone would whisper in my ear?”
    “Girl, don’t play coy. It’s too early in the morning for that crap. What happened?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Carè?”
    “Really, nothing. He wanted to talk about a tentative article for his magazine. He wants to publish a piece on the Mason Center.” The moment she said the words, she could envision the status change on Yvette’s Facebook wall.
    “Nice. What’s the name of the publication?”
    “ Psyche .”
    Yvette screamed in delight. “Get out! Is it really Psyche ? Are you kidding me?”
    “No.”
    “Well? What did you tell him?”
    “I’m having a dinner meeting with him tonight so I can give him the scoop on why black men should volunteer at Mason.”
    “Ooh, do you know what this means? This couldn’t have come at a better time. If he publishes something before the Mason Ball, it could double our turnout. Do you hear me? Double it! You have to make sure this happens, Carè. Do you hear me?”
    Caresse heard her friend’s words, but she had to admit she didn’t like them. She didn’t like the idea of convincing a man to do anything for her. “Yes, I hear you. I’ll take care of it. Can you fax me the center’s program information at noon?”
    “You got it, kiddo. Anything for the cause.”
    At his lunch meeting, Graham toyed with his lamb chop as he listened to his younger sister, Laila Sheridan, and Gray Ryley pitch another Malcolm Khalid article. It would make it Khalid’s third article for the magazine this year. The idea of reading one word from that arrogant writer made Graham dream of creating a medieval torture device to be rid of him completely.   
    Graham applauded Laila and Gray’s determination to hard-sell the controversial writer, but after Malcolm’s scathing radio interview following his last Psyche piece, there was nothing left say. No one could call his magazine a ‘little periodical that lacks social vision’ and expect to get the red carpet rolled out for him. That hot-head wasn’t good for business, and Graham had no desire to pretend that he was.
    “No, guys, I can’t ignore other talented writers because you have a personal preference for the chronicles of an angry black man,” Graham said as he shook his head and glanced at his watch.
    “Graham, give him a chance,” Laila said, creasing her brow before he could elaborate. “You must admit the article he wrote goes