LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Margaret J. Kemp, attorney at law, drummed her well manicured finger nails on the desktop as she listened with increasing consternation to the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Well," she said, "it sounds like my dear ex has done some pretty serious backsliding since his last visit." She listened a bit more and let out a throaty chuckle. "Yes, boys will be boys," she agreed. "That's the problem isn't it? They never really stop being boys completely." She nodded and tapped her keyboard to bring up some newly arrived emails. "Oh, he's going to the woodshed all right. I promise you, when you see him again on Tuesday, his attitude will have been thoroughly adjusted." She let out another chuckle. "Yes, I'll just bet you would. Who knows, maybe someday."

A frown creased her brow as she realized that she was looking at several emails she'd already seen. "Thank you so much for the report, Evelyn," she said into the handset cradled between her ear and shoulder. "I promise you, you won't have to put up with that kind of behavior for a long time after I get done with him. I trust you still like Channel?" She leaned back in the big leather swivel chair and put her feet up on the desk. "Oh, it's my pleasure, dear. Good spies are worth their weight in perfume."

She said goodbye to her ex-husband's executive assistant, returned the handset to its cradle and pushed the intercom button. "Jack, I need the file and surveillance photos for the Tarantino case."

"Yes, ma'am," came through the speaker.

A few minutes later, her young paralegal and protégé, Jack Dawson walked through the door holding the requested materials. He handed her the case file, but fumbled the folder with the photos, spilling them all over the floor.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said as he quickly sank to his knees and began scooping up the photos.

"Today please, Jack."

He winced at her tone, as he hurried to put the photos back in order. "Here you go," he said, finally setting the restored folder on her desk. He turned and attempted a hasty retreat from his beautiful, but demanding boss's office.

"Not so fast, mister," she said, just as he was reaching for the doorknob.

He winced again. Her voice was like a whip-crack. He turned back to face her. "Was there something else, ma'am?"

She crooked a finger at him, summoning him back to the desk. It was a gesture he'd learned to fear. He forced his feet to move until he was once again standing directly in front of the desk. He swallowed hard.

Maggie let him squirm for a few seconds as she looked him up and down. She took special notice of the slightly rumpled clothes and the tell-tale redness of his eyes. Jack was usually neat as a pin.