Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs)

by Kane, M. J.

  Jaded

  The Butterfly Memoirs

  Book Two

  By

  M. J. Kane

  5 Prince Publishing

  Denver, Colorado

  This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC

  PO Box 16507

  Denver, CO 80216

  www.5PrinceBooks.com

  ISBN 13:978-1-939217-36-3 ISBN 10: 1-939217-36-9

  Jaded

  M. J. Kane

  Copyright M. J. Kane 2013

  Published by 5 Prince Publishing

  Front Cover Viola Estrella

  Author Photo: Jada Caine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.

  First Edition/First Printing March 2013 Printed U.S.A.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC.

  To my family who supported me while I struggled to see the first book published, and who understood the need to get out the second. Thank you for your love and support!

  Kevin, Kris, Jada, Xavier, Erica, and Lady Kayne

  And of course my ever persistent “followers”, Vader, Ivy, and their unexpected prodigy: Smoke, Sugar, and Lil’ Pepper.

  This book is dedicated to the loving memory of these beautiful and strong women, who I was privileged to know, yet didn’t know well enough.

  Rosalie Tillman, Grandmother (2007)

  Dara Louise Kelly Ward, Aunt (2002)

  Betty Jean Tillman Brown, Aunt (2001)

  Missouri Marie Dennis Kelly. Grandmother (2000)

  Almetta Dennis, Great-grandmother (1994)

  And in loving memory to my father, who died way too soon at the age of 35…

  Warren Anthony Kelly (1985)

  I miss you…

  Prologue

  Dear Diary,

  I’ve been called a slut, a ho, easy, and a few other words that I refuse to even write on paper.

  Since middle school, people have taken one look at my light skin, grey eyes, and the shape of my body and assumed that’s who I was.

  Assume.

  The first three letters of the word described them. How dare they judge me? Nobody is perfect.

  It has never mattered what I’ve done in my life. Being the daughter of a bi-racial marriage has always haunted me. With my fusion of graceful features I’d inherited from my white mother - the slender nose, cat-like eyes, vibrant smile, and the take-no-shit attitude of my black father, people didn’t know how to deal with me.

  Guys in school wanted to date me as if I were a trophy. Girls hated the color of my eyes and the texture of my hair.

  Things got worse as I got older. Why? Because I love my body, and I love sex.

  But I never used either to earn money or favors from any man. I am a confident, educated woman who goes for what I want, regardless of what anyone around me has to say. If that means I want a good lay every now and then, I’m damn well entitled to it. But one thing I’d never be is a home wrecker.

  My philosophy on love and relationships is simple: sex isn’t love, but it’s nice while you’re waiting.

  Well, that’s what I used to think before the man that I fell in love with trampled all over my heart.

  And raped my best friend.

  Love will never happen for me. No man will ever understand me...the real me.

  Not my parents, not my brother, not even my best friends.

  My life, my experiences – both good and bad - are what define the real me.

  Yasmine

  Chapter 1

  “Dad is going to kill you for being late with this week’s report again.”

  My younger brother’s words went in one ear and out the other as I typed furiously. “Why don’t you do it then, Brandon?” I spared him a glance.

  He sat in the chair opposite of my desk with one leg across his knee and tapped an impatient rhythm on the bottom of his shoe. When he frowned, he looked like our father did when he was disappointed.

  “It’s not in my job description. As Assistant Manager, my job is to—”

  “Assist the manager, which is me. I’m busy. Therefore it would be in both of our interest if you performed your job duties and assist me.”

  Most people would have cowered at my glare; Brandon ignored it.

  He sighed heavily. “Yasmine, I love you and would do anything for you, but this is ridiculous. If you were working on anything else I would. This,” he waved his hand at the papers scattered across my desk, “has nothing to do with the hotel and everything to do with you. I’m not covering your ass this time.”

  I stopped typing and glared at him. “Then if you’re not helping, stop bitching about it and get the hell out of my office.”

  Brandon blew out a deep breath. “Yasmine, you have family obligations. Mom and Dad put you in charge of this hotel because of your superior business and customer service skills. You’re supposed to be training me to manage the new location.”

  I groaned. Hearing about the third Phillips’ Family Inn was not on the top of my list of things to talk about. I appreciated the family business, especially, since we sacrificed so much to open the original location twelve years ago. Since graduating college, I’d been in charge of the daily ins and outs of the second location. I ran the place as if it were my own. It was not, however, what I saw myself doing five years from now.

  My dream didn’t have anything to do with hotel management.

  For the past year, arrangements to expand the Phillips’ Family Inn Bed and Breakfast chain had been in the works and were now months away. I applauded their work. In fact, my parents' example inspired me to follow my own dream.

  Besides, after all the pain I had experienced in the past two months, I deserved to have something that was mine. Lately, it seemed no matter which way I turned, everything dealt with someone else’s wants and needs.

  The phone in my office rang. Both of us looked at it. Brandon checked the time on his watch; a smug expression on his handsome face. I loved my brother, but sometimes, I wanted to slap him silly.

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Phillips’ Family Inn, this is…Oh hi, Dad.”

  “It’s after three-thirty. You’re late again,” my father said, irritation in his voice.

  I ignored my brother as he mouthed, ‘I told you so’.

  “I know. I spent most of my day trying to locate someone to cover Ms. Rose…again.”

  Brandon muffled a laugh. Okay, so I embellished.

  Ms. Rose has been a family friend since before I was born. She’s in her mid-sixties and in no hurry to retire. My father met her thirty years ago when he worked as a bellhop at one of L.A.’s oldest hotels. Ms. Rose worked in housekeeping, which is the same thing she does here. When my parents opened the hotel, they offered her a job as Head of Housekeeping. She did a great job…on the days she came to work.

  My father sighed. “What’s the problem this time?”

  Oh, where to begin?

  “Apparently a pipe burst in her apartment building flooding the apartment next door. The apartment complex manager advised her to keep an eye on her floors in case it spread to her place.”

  “Hmm…,” He huffed.

  “I called everyone who had the day off, but nobody was available. In the end, Susanne came in even though she’s on vacation. It’s going to cost though.”r />
  “How much?”

  “Time and a half pay in addition to her vacation pay. She worked for six hours.”

  My father groaned.

  Personally, I didn’t understand why Ms. Rose continued in our employ. Whenever I suggested she retire, my parents shot me looks as if I suggested firing grandma. I loved Ms. Rose, but constantly re-writing the schedule because of her absences took up too much of my time and was unfair to the other employees.

  “Sorry, Dad, I did the best I could. The other option involved Brandon carrying a bucket and doing the job himself.” I smiled; his facial expression said, ‘yeah right’.

  “I need those reports, ASAP. Your mother has an appointment with the accountant in the morning. She needs to review everything before the meeting. If it doesn’t get here soon, she’s going to be upset.”

  Oh boy. Dealing with my mom when she was upset was not a pretty sight. I could already imagine her grey-blue eyes staring at me in disappointment if she needed to reschedule.

  “Yes, Sir. You’ll have them tonight.”

  Brandon shook his head when I hung up the phone a few minutes later.

  “It will be there.” I ignored him and typed up the last few lines of my business plan and hit save. My attention went to the research information on my desk.

  The plan was for my business, Dreams. For as long as I could remember, I lived for fashion. I stopped dressing up Barbie dolls and began designing outfits for my cousins; the ones I could visit, that is. It was a shame; I was nearly twenty-eight years old and rarely visited my mother’s side of the family. Because of their intolerance, we spent more time with my father’s side of the family. They welcomed Brandon and me with open arms.

  As we got older, I spent hours styling their hair, marveling at the difference in texture from my own. Make-up followed. Before long, I gave tips on how to dress for their dates and the prom.

  Even now, years later, I was the go-to person in my family for fashion advice. Why should I continue to do what I love for free? My research showed the demand for fashion consultants was on a rise, especially in Los Angeles, my hometown.

  My paperwork filed away, I settled at my desk and opened the hotel’s accounting program. The screen went blank.

  “Oh shit,” I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “Shit, shit, shit…”

  I sat up and flipped the power switch on the computer tower. A spark of energy flashed and the smell of smoke permeated the air. Brandon and I jumped; he lunged for the power cord while I ran for the fire extinguisher in the hall. By the time I returned, the flames had died down.

  Brandon whistled and fanned the smoke-filled room. “I hope you saved that information on a backup drive.”

  I grimaced. “No, I never got around to it.”

  Not only were the hotel spreadsheets lost, my business plan was gone too. I was on the verge of tears.

  He reached over and patted me on the shoulder. “So far, I don’t like the idea of being manager at the new location.”

  “At this rate, you’ll probably replace me here.”

  I needed to fix this screwed up situation, ASAP. The computer had crashed two months ago. The technician, who’d serviced it, recommended a replacement, even though he’d gotten it up and running again. My parents didn’t want to spend the money. Securing the permits, licenses, and the renovations of the third location tied up the budget.

  The need for a new computer could not be avoided. Making an executive decision, I retrieved the warranty paperwork from the file cabinet. Sal-U-Tek had serviced our computers for years. The technician they sent over was considerate, knew his business, and was not bad on the eyes.

  I dialed the number listed on the receipt and waited impatiently for someone to pick up.

  “Thank you for calling Sal-U-Tek, can you hold?” a squeaky voice said and put me on hold without waiting for my reply.

  I cursed, hung up, and called again. I cut the guy off before he spoke. “I need to speak to…” I looked for the name on the work order. His handwriting was hard to read. “Zachariah Givens.”

  “Oh, Mr. Givens is on another line right now. Can you hold?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  Cheesy elevator music played. I spent the time trying to remember what the guy looked like. He was black, and if I remembered correctly, he was a few inches taller than I was, but not by much. I was 5’7”, making him short for a man of my liking. If I wore my favorite stacked heels, I’d probably tower over him. He had a nice body and wasn’t skinny or overweight.

  His eyes were what I remembered most, though. I could envision his dark hazel eyes hidden behind black square frames. They were the sexiest eyes I’d ever seen on a man.

  Not that it mattered. A relationship of any kind was the last thing on my mind.

  Minutes ticked by. It was nearly four o’clock. According to the paperwork, the store closed at five. I didn’t have time to wait. I hung up the phone and dialed the number on my cell. The same voice answered and put me on hold again. I gathered my purse and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Brandon asked.

  “I am not waiting for him to come to the phone. I’m going over there and bringing that Zachariah guy back with a new computer.”

  “Good luck with that,” he said, opening my office window to let in fresh air.

  “Thanks.”

  I needed all the luck I could get.

  Chapter 2

  “Mr. Givens, there’s a customer on the line asking for you.”

  “Thanks, Ralph.” I studied the flashing lines and sighed. I needed someone who could handle the in-store portion of the job. Ralph, a gangly-looking college kid, made an excellent technician, but his customer service skills were seriously lacking. “Which line?”

  He shrugged, sheepishly.

  I glanced at my watch, four-twenty-five, not long before quitting time. Perfect. With any luck, I could short cut through traffic, take my mother something for dinner, talk, and be home by seven.

  That would leave plenty of time for exploring the benefits of my latest technological gadget. The newest iPad had everything I wanted and more.

  First, I needed to send this week’s time sheets to the corporate office, then take my tour around the store and turn off the display computers for the night.

  I grabbed the phone and handled three of the five calls on hold in record time; none of them were the customer who’d asked for me. Ralph was still on the original call.

  I answered the next call on hold in time to hear an angry curse and the phone disconnect as soon as I spoke. At the same time, the door to the shop flew open and a light-skinned woman wearing heels, a skintight skirt, and a loosely buttoned shirt, stormed up to the counter. She didn’t appear pleased.

  “First of all, the customer service phone etiquette here sucks.” Her eyes were blazing as she focused on poor Ralph who appeared to shrink two inches from her glare.

  Then she zeroed in on me. Her grey eyes squinted in recognition. I remembered her as well. How could I forget a woman with skin the color of coffee with too much cream and eyes the color of steel? Her body was worth every ounce of admiration.

  “You,” a red colored fingernail pointed at me, “you’re…,” she referred to a paper in her hand, “Zachariah Givens?”

  “Yes,” I replied, ignoring the flash of heat running to my groin. The woman was sexy and annoying at the same time. Unfortunately, it was impossible to appreciate her looks while she shot daggers at me.

  “I remember you. You came to my hotel two months ago and said I needed to upgrade my computer when it crashed. You patched it up, thanks again, but now I need a new one… like yesterday need a new one. I need what you listed here, but instead of one, I want three of them. I don’t have time to waste doing this again.” She waved the paper in front of my eyes.

  My hands were resting on the counter top as I counted to ten, and then to twenty, before unclenching my teeth. Patience. Let her vent, get it out
of her system, and then we could move on.

  “Well, aren’t you going to look at this?” The paper waved again, sending a slight breeze of perfume.

  Damn, she smelled good.

  I counted to thirty, then reached out and waited for the paper to settle in my hand. Our eyes held for a moment before my attention went to it. Yasmine Phillips was her name and it was one of the last jobs I did as a technician before my promotion to store manager.

  I studied my notes. “Do you still need authorization to place this order?”

  “No, my father has no choice because the computer didn’t crash, it burned. I still have the metallic taste in my mouth.”

  I glanced up. Bad idea. Her tongue ran over pale pink lips. Another shot to the groin. I adjusted my stance, glad to be standing behind the counter.

  “I don’t have three of the computer systems listed. We have two of them”

  “Two? That is not enough.”

  I glanced over the rim of my glasses. “I can get a third one from our sister store, but it will take a day or two.”

  “Not acceptable.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

  My attention went to her mouth. Focus, man. Why did this woman turn me on? She was nothing like anyone I’d ever dated. Then again, I had no interest in dating.

  Ever since Melissa had left.

  I did not want to think about her. Not now, not ever.

  I walked over to the nearest computer and input the specification of the model in question. “It appears we’ve got something that will still fit your needs. There is an older model on clearance. That will leave some breathing room in your budget.” I explained the details of the computer and watched her eyes glaze over when she stopped listening.

  “So it will do everything I need and save money, too?”

  “Exactly, and there are three in stock.”

  “I’ll take them.” She dug into her oversized purse for her wallet.