Holy shit. She had a job. One that paid her for a real skill. She drove off with a smile on her face. It stayed there even though Nashville traffic piled up around her. It stayed all the way to the crappy apartment on the other side of town. Never mind that East Nashville was up and coming. She was too far east and her place was definitely down and going.
Once she made it home, she took one look at the brown, metal front door to her apartment and put the car back in gear. She was a good cook, but the thought of cooking in that awful little kitchen, with the glitchy electric burners that she hated, was more than she could handle. It was a good news day and there was a meat-and-three down the street. She and her Lexus would stick out like a sore thumb, just like they always did. But they knew her there. They knew she would show up in her designer skirt and happily eat green beans cooked with bacon fat. They would wink and give her extra banana pudding, too.
The meatloaf tasted better with a side of freedom. She read up on the family while she tried to keep banana pudding smears off the page. The address looked nice, Brentwood area on the south side of town, not too far from the agency. That made sense, the agency would be located where there was a high density of families that could afford live-in help.
Once, she'd been that kind of wife. Now she was the help. Maybe she should have had kids. For a moment, she looked up at the old acoustic ceiling and thought about that path. Nope. She would have been tied to Reynold, and even her crappy apartment, with the eviction notice taped to the front door for everyone to see, was better than being tied to a man who cheated on her and didn't even see a reason to be sorry.
She looked back down at the page. Father—Alexander Beaumont. Mother—Bridget Beaumont. Children—Daughter-Olivia-Age 8 and Daughter-Sophie-Age 2.
Fun ages, Mari thought. She had plenty of brothers and sisters and cousins. She understood what a two-year-old and an eight-year-old might be like. She also understood that every single one of them was their own person, even at those ages.
No pets. Good. Mari wasn't even fond of goldfish.
Live-in space—mother-in-law suite with private entrance on ground floor. Her own suite! It was probably bigger than her crappy apartment!
At the noise of her spoon hitting Corian, she looked at the plate to find she'd cleaned it. Then she pulled her phone to discover that she had barely enough time to change, fight traffic, and show up at seven-fifty.
Folding the paper into her purse, Mari breathed deeply of the smells of fried chicken and cooked-within-an-inch-of-their-lives vegetables. There would probably not be a mom and pop place like this on the other side of town.
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Thank you for reading! I love romances with real love and believable characters, and I hope you found all that in these pages. I want to fall in love right along with the characters, and I do, while I’m writing it.
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About Savannah
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I started writing when I was eight--I hand wrote an 80-page novella that I believed to be (adult) romantic suspense. I’m proud to say, I’ve gotten a lot better since then. I’ve grown up to be a nerd at heart! I love neuroscience and people watching, and if you look, you’ll find some of that in each Savannah Kade book. Most days you’ll find me in my office, looking out my window at a handful of the neighbor’s cows, or watching my dogs or my cat roam the backyard.
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www.SavannahKade.com
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Love Notes Page 37