by Maggie Way
“You’ll have to come by the new shop and hang out.”
“Of course. Was there any doubt?” They stood back from each other, smiling.
“This will happen for you too, Lizzy.” Lottie smiled.
“One can hope.” But Elizabeth knew the odds were against her. All the good ones seem to be meant for others. The ones left were arrogant cads like the stiff Darcy. How he had charming friends like Chaz Bingley was astounding.
She left Lottie chatting with Lady Catherine, which could be interpreted as abandonment, but Bill was with her and it was his job to rescue her from these things. Hoping for a distraction, she retrieved her phone from the small bag dangling from her wrist and checked the YouTube stats on Jane’s videos. She’d become quite obsessed with this of late. Jane was getting more hits everyday, and the impact was a steady number of sign-ups. Elizabeth didn’t want to admit it, and certainly not to the likes of Darcy, but she was thankful for the little automation they had put into place. They could have never handled the volume without it.
Jane had stumbled upon something quite brilliant with the videos. Checking her work email, Elizabeth found several new questionnaires in her inbox. She did a double take. Including one from Mary and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth found them in the crowd, standing close together but not talking. The casual observer would miss their furtive glances, but she was catching every last one of them.
Could it be? Was it just sexual attraction? And to Mary who acted as if she would expire on the spot from saying any word with sex as its root?
Yet, there it was. The dance of interest. Each moving around the other, staying within a certain radius. Never too close or too far. Elizabeth watched Henry. What did he want from her sister? She flicked her gaze to Mary. What would she be able to give him?
She was still contemplating it when someone held a champagne glass in front of her.
Darcy.
“It’s time for the toast.”
She pushed her phone back into the small bag and took the goblet from him, at a loss for words.
When the toast was finished, she faced him, and touched her glass to his, no longer able to refrain from saying something. “What’s your computer have to say about this?” She nodded to Bill and Lottie.
“They’re a good match, Miss Bennet. But I have to wonder about matches you make for people you aren’t so close to. The question that begs to be answered is: are you able to recognize if you’ve made a poor match and willing to correct it?” He touched her glass a second time with a small clink, nodded once, and then strode away leaving her feeling smug, unsatisfied, and incredulous at the same time. Oh, she wanted to give that man a piece of her mind.
He was a master at the backhanded compliment, and what was he calling her? Too prideful that she’d sacrifice someone’s happiness willingly so as to not appear bad? She hoped his heels would burst into flames. It would be pure entertainment to see him hopping around trying to put it out.
She glanced to his cousin, who was staring at Mary over his own champagne glass.
What would Mr. Darcy have to say about his cousin and her sister?
She smiled at his retreating back, her mind putting a plan into place.
Epilogue
Having decided to put off a honeymoon, Bill and Lottie focused instead on getting the kitchen at their new place updated. Still uncertain as to what they would turn the bottom portion of the Gardners’ house into, they knew a kitchen for Lottie to create in was essential. They decided to keep the apartments, hoping to rent them out for additional income.
They were coming out from her parents’ café with large coffees in hand and plans to drive into the city for Bill to try his act in front of the bigger names when a scruffy, rail-thin young man approached them.
“Excuse me.” He shuffled nervously. “I’m looking for Padre Bill. I have his card right here.” He held up Bill’s card. “I went to the church, and they told me to try here.”
“I’m Bill. Padre Bill.” He stepped in front of Lottie just in case.
The kid chewed his lip. “My friend Kyle said you really inspired him. He’s getting his life together and well—” His lower lip began to tremble. Bill rested his hand on the kid’s thin shoulder. “I could use some inspiration, Padre.”
“Have you had anything to eat today?” Bill asked.
“No, sir.”
“What’s your name?”
“Michael, sir.”
“Well, It’s hard to be inspired when you’re hungry, Michael. Let’s go inside and get you something to eat.” Bill moved to get the door but Michael stood stock-still.
“I haven’t got any money, sir, and I didn’t come here to beg food.” His voice was gruff.
Lottie had seen an attitude like that before. When Bill was struggling as a teen. She stepped around him and smiled at Michael.
They had fifteen minutes to get on the road, or else they’d likely miss their train into the city. Weathermen were predicating a good rager of a storm that would make traffic a nightmare.
“Bill,” she said quietly, her eyes darting to the large town center clock. “It’s your call.”
He smiled at her, then Michael. “To be more precise, I think it’s my calling. We were just about to go home, Michael, and make dinner. Why don’t you come with us?”
“The deal is, though, you have to help. Then we won’t be giving you a handout. You’d be earning your meal by doing all the work.” She wracked her brain for what was in the fridge that they could make. “Have you ever made chicken cacciatore?” Lottie asked.
“No, ma’am.”
She could see the fear in his eyes.
“You still at home, Michael, or are you living on the streets?” Bill leaned back against the storefront and sipped his coffee.
Lottie wanted to berate someone, Michael’s parents for sure. It broke her heart watching him struggle. She wanted to rush this young kid home, offer him a shower, and then help him find a way to survive. At least Bill had always had her and her family and then Lady Catherine. Where was this child’s protector?”
“I’m on the streets now. Well, I couch surf.” He shuffled again, one step forward, another back showing he was uncertain if he was coming or going.
Then it hit Lottie like a freight train. She knew instantly what she wanted to do with the Gardner house, and there was no doubt it was the right, best thing to do.
“You want a job, Michael?” she asked him.
“A job?” he said.
“A job?” Bill echoed with just as much uncertainty.
“Yeah, a job.” She smiled at Bill before turning back to Michael. “I am opening a bakery. I already have orders to fill I can barely keep up with because I have no help.”
“Hey, I help,” Bill argued.
Lottie sighed. “I have little help. If you aren’t afraid of some hard work, sometimes some long hours, I can teach you all about making…” She didn’t want to make it sound too girly. This scruffy kid with his worn leather jacket might find making a pastry offensive. “Sweets. Desserts. Once we get that down, I can teach you the basics of cooking as well. You would be able to work as an assistant to a chef or even a short-order cook. You interested?”
“You mean like Cake Boss?” He licked his lips.
“Yeah, exactly.” Lottie knew he was so close to saying yes.
“And for free room and board, we can offer you a place to live, you’ll have to help with some renovations—you are eighteen aren’t you?” He turned to Lottie. “Don’t want to get in trouble for child labor.”
“Yeah. I mean, yes sir. I am.” Michael pulled out a state ID to prove he was legit.
“You aren’t wanted by the police are ya?” Bill asked.
“No, sir. Just have to get out of my house. It’s not safe…it’s not good there.” He stood taller when he said it. As if he’d said something so awful, which it was, but in turn was expecting repercussions for it.
“So how about we start with chicken
cacciatore?”
“Yeah.” Michael nodded. “That sounds good.”
Bill grabbed Lottie’s hand. “Thank you,” he said and kissed her soundly.
Michael cleared his throat.
“Knock, knock, Michael,” Bill said pushing off the wall. He threw an arm around Lottie’s shoulder.
“Who’s there?” Michael answered. Albeit hesitantly.
“Water.”
“Water who?”
“Water you going to do? Stand there all night? Let’s go eat.” Bill turned Lottie toward the house, and they made for home.
It felt like minutes, but it had to really have been only seconds when they heard Michael’s footsteps fall in behind them.
“My friend Kyle said you were really funny. I hope you got better stuff than that.”
“I do,” Bill said, and winked at Lottie. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
About the Author
Kristi Rose was raised in central Florida on boiled peanuts and iced tea. Kristi likes to write about the journeys of everyday people and the love that brings them together. She's always looking for avid readers who are willing to do beta reads (give impression of story before edits) and be advance readers (who are willing to leave honest reviews). If you are interested, please sign up for her newsletter. Aside from her eternal gratitude she also likes to do giveaways for her newsletter subscribers as well.
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Save the Date
by K.M. Hodge
Chapter One
Tool Shed
September 11, 2001
12:30 AM
“One for the bride!” Jolene’s best friend and maid of honor, Mary, waved a twenty-dollar bill in the air, beckoning the stripper.
“Mary! I don’t want a lap dance,” Jolene hissed, feeling her cheeks grow hot. But her friend didn’t seem to hear her or flat out didn’t care that this whole thing made her uncomfortable. Her anxiety spiked as one of the dancers worked his way over to them.
“What’s your name, big guy?” Mary slipped the crisp twenty under the dancer’s G-string, taking her time to let her touch linger on his bronzed thigh. She licked her pouty lips and jutted out her ample chest for good measure.
“Dean.” Without missing a beat, he continued to undulate his pelvis in time with the song Freak Me by Silk. “But everyone here calls me Mean Dean the Sex Machine.”
Jolene stifled a laugh behind the back of her hand. He couldn’t be serious...could he? Mary smiled and all but batted her lashes at him. “Well Dean, can you show my friend here a good time? It’s her last night as a single woman.”
Jolene’s palms began to sweat and her heartbeat thundered against her chest. Try as she might she couldn’t stop the rising heat from prickling her cheeks and chest. Her embarrassment flashed red like a neon sign across the translucent white skin of her arms and chest. By now her face would be cherry red, something she wished she could control.
“Your wish is my command!”
The flap of the dancer’s loin cloth did little to conceal what lay underneath while he moved his body over hers. He smiled down at her with his overly white teeth. Ugh...nothing about the man turned her on. She looked away from his glaring smile and willed time to pass more quickly. Getting the private room in the club had been Mary’s idea. She loved strip clubs. That night, Jolene tried to hide her disappointment when they pulled up in front of the Tool Shed in their white limo. The entire night would no doubt be one giant cliché. Mary, of course, brought penis-shaped straws and feather boas for all the girls. Normally she would be a good sport about it all, but a lot was weighing on her mind at the moment. The stripper only added to her anxiety. Jolene sighed with relief when the song finally came to an end and the dancer stepped back, giving her some space to breathe normally again.
“My turn!” Mary hollered waving her money like a surrender flag. “Take me, big boy.” She knocked back her drink and tugged on her low-cut blouse until her pendulous breast nearly spilled out. Dean mounted her, jutting his loincloth in her face. To Jolene’s shock and horror, her friend plunged her hands underneath the flap of leather, making him gasp.
“Hey now…” Dean grabbed her by the wrist and removed her hands. “No touching.” He winked, which would only encourage her impulse control lacking friend. Didn’t he know this?
As dramatic as Mary could be, this seemed a bit much, even by her standards. Perhaps the coming deployment factored into her wilder than normal behavior. In forty-eight hours, they would both be out to sea for their second deployment with the Navy on the USNS hospital ship. She loved the Navy and being a medic but this deployment would be extra hard. Jolene shrugged the concerns off her shoulders. She couldn’t focus on any of that right now. If she thought about it too much she might cry, which would only make this night even more depressing.
“What do you have under there, big guy? Care to show me your sex machine?” Mary panted against the dancer’s neck, her lips grazing his glistening skin.
Dean glanced around the room towards the security camera that blinked red. She wondered what would happen if they broke the rules. Would the muscle come in and throw them out? Would Dean get fired?
“We’re being watched?” Jolene asked.
“Oh yeah...for your safety,” Dean said. “But this room’s camera doesn’t work all that well.”
“Then let's be careful then,” Mary said.
“George is on security tonight. He’s probably stoned already.” Dean glanced behind him at the eyes in the sky. “Screw it!” He turned back to them and lifted the flap of his loin cloth exposing himself to Mary and Jolene, who sat beside her. One of the girls hooted when she caught a glimpse of the well-endowed dancer. Big guy indeed.
Mary’s mouth slackened into a salacious smile. “Yum.”
“You want a taste?”
Jolene’s heart started to race, surely, he didn’t mean to imply that she should...no surely not. Dean continued to dance and stroke himself with a devilish grin on his face. The surrealism of the moment kept her frozen in place, unable to look away.
“Mmm…. yeah.” Mary licked her lips and scooted closer until she had a front seat for his show of self-love. To Jolene’s shock, Mary flicked her tongue out at him making contact with his engorged flesh. Her friend’s actions seemed to surprise him as well as he stared down at her wide-eyed and grinning like an idiot.
Never call Mary on a bluff!
He widened his eyes in surprise and stilled his hand. “Fuck yeah, babe.”
Mary wrapped her bright red lips around him. “Mmm…” she moaned.
Jolene squirmed uncomfortably in her chair as a rush of arousal and revulsion washed over her. This can’t be happening! Of all her adventures with her wild friend, this now took the cake. She tried to look away but found herself transfixed by the scene.
“You’ve got great tits. Oh, yeah...like that. Oh yeah, baby.”
Jolene sucked in a breath and held it. Her heart began to race. Every instinct in her body told her to look away, run, but she couldn’t do either. So, she sat there watching the whole thing unfold. They all did. Her best and closest friends, Karen and Amy, grew still, a feat all in itself, their jaws dropped and their eyes widened.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Dean stiffened. “I’m gonna cum. Oh shit,” he grunted as if the entire room didn’t already know. Everyone stared in wide-eyed wonder as the dancer came, his body jerked and his mouth formed an oblong O. “Ahhh…” Dean’s breath came in short uneven pants and the smile on his face stretched from ear-to-ear.
Mary sat back with a self-satisfied look on her face like she’d put a man on the moon single-handedly.
“That was fucking amazing. No
one’s ever made me cum at work before. They make us take all this deadening medication and you…” Dan stroked her cheek and touched her smiling lips. “Fuck you’re good. Can I have your number? I’d like to return the favor some time...ya know when the cameras aren’t on us.”
“When do you get off tonight? I’m staying at the Bigsby Hotel in room thirty-four.”
“I’ll be done around two. I’ve got some mollies. We can make a whole night of it.”
Mary licked her lips and smiled. “You’ve got a date, big guy.”
“Aces.” Dean stepped back with the same dumb grin on his face like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Of course, like most men his default in this situation involved stroking himself over the cloth.
Jolene leapt up from her chair, eager to put some space between herself and the “sex machine’s” tool.
“Hey there, big guy, can I get a dance?” Amy waved a thick stack of ones above her head.
“Hey, Jo?” Mary tugged Jolene’s arm. “What’s up with you tonight?
Jolene forced herself to smile. “I’m great, what do you mean?”
Mary scrunched up her nose and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not upset because--”
Jolene shook her head and deepened her fake smile. “No. Really, I’m fine. I just need a little air. I think I drank too much.”
Before her friend could ask her another thing, she dashed out of the room and out the front door. The hot air blasted against her cheeks. She leaned against the cool building and closed her eyes. Her heart raced against her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
When a hand touched her side, she shrieked and opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe her subconscious desires made him materialize in front of her. Until a wicked smile spread across his face and he pinned her against the wall.