Owned By Fate(16)

“Working closely with Oliver, I’ve put together a series of ideas we hope will interest you,” Asher was saying. “As you know, our primary target is the wealthy and adventurous. More and more, we’re finding interests that used to be taboo and relegated to the bedroom are now discussed openly. Tastes that were once considered peculiar are now acceptable. Encouraged, even. With books such as—”

“I know the book to which you’re referring, Mr. Laurie,” Caroline interrupted quickly, ignoring Jonah’s soft chuckle. “I’ve done quite a bit of research for the article.”

“Yes, of course you have.” Asher smiled. “And our goal in merging with Preston’s would be combining finance with these certain activities, which are now emerging as mainstream. Why not give it all to our customer in one place?” He spread his hands wide. “Read about gold futures on page six; discover safe ways to practice suspension on page seven.”

Caroline’s hands clenched the newspaper in her lap until she forced them to relax. She opened her mouth to patiently explain to Asher why his idea happened to be ridiculous, then stopped cold. It became painfully obvious to her that any negative comment she made would paint her as a fraud. Jonah would recall as well as she did the way her engine had been so obviously revved by simply watching that woman being flogged. If she’d reacted with disgust and left at that point, she’d be in the clear to call the merger a ludicrous idea, but she hadn’t. Instead, she’d willingly gone with Jonah, a Dom, to that room. Heck, she’d pulled down her own panties for him. She’d called him Master.

“Uh, Mr. Laurie…” Caroline removed an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt. “Do you honestly believe that the demographic—the financially sound and otherwise kinky—is large enough to warrant its own magazine? Keep in mind, we’ll be losing more than half of our current readers who have no interest in”—she refolded her newspaper a different way—“whatever goes on at these places.”

Oliver leaned forward. “That’s the thing, Ro. It’s not just what takes place in clubs. People practice it at home. Role-playing, bondage—”

“Dear God, stop. Please.” Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose. “The fact that I have to hear my brother talk about this stuff is reason enough to veto the idea.”

Asher ran a nervous hand through his hair. “To answer your question, yes, I do believe the demo is large enough, as we’re hoping you find out for yourself with the trial feature story. Right now you’re targeting Wall Street financiers. This magazine would have a national audience.” When Caroline didn’t respond, he took a different tack. “Oliver mentioned you stopped by Serve Friday night.”

“Yes, of course. I can’t write my piece without the proper—”

“Experience?” Jonah supplied, speaking up for the first time.

She kept her features carefully composed, making damn certain not to look at him. That settled it. Jonah was here to humiliate her. Why wouldn’t he just get it over with? “I only had one drink.” Total truth.

“What was your impression of the customers?” Oliver asked, although he looked as though he already knew the answer. Once again, it struck Caroline how invested her brother had become in this crazy plan. His usual complacency had been replaced by a touch of excitement.

Feeling guilty that she would be the one to curtail it, Caroline glanced down at the floor. “Rich, polished. The type we’d want purchasing Preston’s.”

“But they aren’t purchasing it anymore,” Oliver reminded her. “We need to get ahead of this. Supply this product before people even become aware they’re demanding it. Let’s move with the times.”

“Yes,” Asher agreed. “And reach outside New York. This isn’t the only place where the wealthy choose to live. Think Vegas, Miami, Los Angeles. The list goes on.”

Caroline shook her head. “I can’t go against my father on this. Everything he’s worked for…not when there’s every possibility we could become a laughingstock.” She sighed as Asher and her brother exchanged weary glances. Man, being the bad guy blew.

Oliver nodded in Jonah’s direction. “Mr. Briggs—”

“Jonah.”

“Jonah.” Oliver jotted something down on a notepad. “If you don’t mind my asking, how many customers would you say come through Serve each month?” He waved a hand toward Jonah. “Oh, Caroline, I forgot to mention, Jonah is the owner of Serve. He’s here as kind of an expert.”