by Nia Arthurs
The Switch
A Friends To Lovers Romance
Nia Arthurs
First published in Belize, C.A. 2018
Copyright © Nia Arthurs
Cover Design: Oliviaprodesign
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be circulated in any writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
A Word From The Author
Other Books by this Author
Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter One
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
“I’m driving past Marine Parade, Ash. I can practically see your house from here. Would you calm down?”
“I AM CALM!”
“Of course you are.” Luke pressed harder on the gas and swerved down the lane. “How did you bust your kitchen pipe anyway?”
“Okay, first of all, I resent the insinuation that I’m at fault here. All I did was lift the faucet so I could wash some dirty dishes and the whole thing came off in my hand. Next thing I knew, there was a fountain in the middle of my house.”
“Why didn’t you call your dad or, you know, an actual plumber?”
“Because my dad is in Caye Caulker enjoying the last of his Singles Cruise and the plumber would charge me a hundred bucks just to come down here on a Sunday. One hundred, Luke. Do you know what I could do with all that cash?”
“You could get a professional to fix your pipe,” Luke grumbled.
Ash’s tone turned cajoling. “Why would I do that when I have a strong, capable friend to help me?”
Luke saw through her flattery like it was wrapping plastic. “I should turn back and go home.”
“Fine! Go ahead. Throw twenty years of friendship down the drain. I don’t care.”
He spotted the red-trimmed roof of Ashanti’s bungalow and parked the car in her cobbled driveway. “It’s too late. I’m here.”
“Thank God.”
Luke hung up and threw his door open. His feet pounded up the wooden stairs to her verandah.
Potted plants swung from tiny lengths of rope. Exotic blooms thirstily drank in the Caribbean sunshine. Purple chimes sang from the middle of the post, their metal tails banging a chaotic melody.
Luke threw himself toward the front door seconds before it flew open. Ashanti appeared, chest heaving and black curls wild about her face. Her pink T-shirt was soaked and clung to her lean body.
Sharp, brown eyes dipped to his empty hands. “Where’s your toolbox?”
“Toolbox?” Luke breathed hard. “You didn’t say anything about a toolbox.”
“I explicitly told you to bring one since I didn’t know where Dad’s was.”
He frowned. “You could have said that earlier!”
“I thought you heard.”
He brushed her aside and walked into the house. “We’ll deal with that later. For now, let’s check out the problem.”
Ashanti swept her arms toward the kitchen. “After you.”
As Luke marched deeper into the house, he heard the gushing flow of a pipe that had gone berserk. He passed the dining room and stopped at the doorway to the kitchen.
It looked as bad as it sounded. The sink was filled to the brim with water that sped down the sides of the drawers and crashed to the ground.
His eyes skirted past his shirt to his shoes that were about to slog through the flood. Just great. His new kicks would be ruined in the tide.
The things he did for Ashanti.
Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Ash?”
Silence met his call.
Luke turned fully around, his gaze scanning the expanse of the redwood cabinets, the stainless steel refrigerator and the open cupboards.
Where did she go?
He shook his head and approached the pipe, squinting as the force of the spray shot water droplets at his face. Since he wasn’t a plumber, he backed away and pulled out his phone to ask Google what he should do.
He was skimming through an article when Ashanti returned, lugging a big, rusted box with her. Her slender fingers held the handles in a death grip and her back curved with the weight of it.
Luke scrambled to her side and relieved of her of the box. “This your dad’s?”
“I happened to find it.” She nodded to the sink. “Do you know what to do?”
Luke wiggled the phone in her face. “It said I should shut down the main valve so it stops feeding water to the pipe.”
Silence swept between them as Luke stared pointedly at her.
“What?” Ashanti narrowed her eyes. “Do I look like I know where the main valve is?”
Luke sighed but said nothing as he headed outside to find the valve. After shutting it off, he returned to the kitchen and inspected the sink.
Ashanti’s head poked close to his. “How bad is it?”
“You’re gonna need a plumber.”
“Dammit!” She pulled her bottom lip in with her teeth. “How much is that gonna cost me?”
“Does it matter?”
She sulked but didn’t say anything.
Luke did what he could with the pipe and then sat in the safety of the dining room while Ashanti mopped up the mess.
She stopped and thrust the stick of the mop like a weapon. “Why aren’t you helping?”
“Hey, you called on a Sunday afternoon. I came. I did my duty. You can take care of the clean up.”
Ash placed her hands on her hips. “Is that any way to treat a lady?”
Luke glanced up and down. “What lady?” She stuck her tongue out and he laughed. “Fine. Hand me a mop.”
Chapter Two
The kitchen was a mess; she was about to cough up an obscene amount of money to get her faucet fixed; and it was hot enough to barbeque chicken on the ground, yet Ashanti felt strangely at peace.
Her eyes skipped to Luke who was silently mopping beside her. He’d rolled his shirtsleeves up to reveal his solid arms. His black hair flopped against his forehead, which was glistening with sweat.
She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Unfortunately, he was stuck with the honor of being her In Case Of An Emergency Friend, thus she called him whenever she needed major backup and felt very little remorse.
“What?” Luke stopped mopping and gl
ared at her. “Why are you staring?”
She grinned. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Nothing in particular.” She studied him for a second and asked, “How are things going with the Frozen Coffee Girl?”
“What girl?” Luke asked casually. Too casually.
Ashanti wasn’t fooled. Not when she’d seen him falling in love with her own eyes.
Luke’s café was her favorite place to go when she was on a deadline. Nothing like the scent of coffee and green tea cookies to get her creative juices flowing.
One day, she walked in to find Luke smiling shyly at one of his customers.
She’d seen that besotted look a whopping number of three times since she’d known him—once for his primary school girlfriend, once for his high school girlfriend and once for a casual relationship in junior college that was doomed to fail.
Since they’d graduated university, his dating life was as dry as a piece of fruit left out on the beach. She was excited to see him showing interest in getting back on the horse.
“When are you going to grow some cahones and ask Frozen Coffee out?”
Luke’s back muscles rolled as he pushed the broom through the water. Ashanti only had one mop so she was sacrificing the broom for the cause.
“I’m not going to do that,” Luke said.
“Grow cahones or ask her out?”
Luke slanted her a look. “Guess.”
“Come on. It’s clear that you like her. And she’s into you too. I can tell.”
“Forget it.”
“What’s the problem?” When he said nothing, Ashanti guessed, “Is it because she’s black?”
“No.” He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”
“Luke, we’re not in the eighteenth century anymore. You’re allowed to like someone of a different race. And this might shock you, but… you can even marry outside your race.” She bounced her fingers against her temple. “Mind blown.”
He tapped her with the soggy end of the broom. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Ew.” Ashanti danced away from him. “Watch it, Zhang.”
He set the broom down. “By the way, her name isn’t Frozen Coffee Girl. It’s Michelle, and she’s a teacher.”
“Oooh. You’re on a first name and occupation basis now?”
He rolled his eyes. “I can’t talk to you about these things.”
“No. Don’t stop.” Ashanti dropped her mop and strode over to Luke. “I’m sorry. I’ll be serious from now on.” She paused. “Is her being black really that big of a deal?”
Luke shook his head. “The thing is… I’m older now. More settled in who I am and what I want to do for the rest of my life. I’m ready for a serious relationship. You know, one that will likely end in marriage.”
“I’m not seeing the problem here.”
“The problem is I like Michelle, but my parents might not.”
“Which won’t go down well if you want to introduce her to them later,” Ashanti finished his thought. “Because your family is racist.”
“They’re not racist. They’re traditional.”
She waved her hand. “My dad is super traditional, but he doesn’t care what race my boyfriend is.”
“Your dad didn’t know who you were dating most of the time so that doesn’t count.”
Ashanti scrunched her nose and searched for a comeback. When she couldn’t find one, she gave in. “Touché.”
“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself,” Luke said thoughtfully. “Michelle and I might never get to that stage.”
“Yeah, but it’s not fair that you have to ignore an entire race of women just because your family might disapprove. The majority of females in Belize are black. You take them out and your dating pool shrinks to the size of an eyeball.”
“An eyeball is bigger than you think,” Luke said. “Scientists have found that—”
She held a hand up to stop his nerd flow. “I don’t care. What matters is your happy ending, which I’m going to provide for you right now.”
Luke eased back. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“In gratitude for your emergency plumbing services, I—Ashanti Christina Lane will grant you, Luke Jen Jitsu Zhang—”
“It’s actually…” Luke proceeded to say a name she did not understand.
“That’s what I said.”
“No.” Luke repeated the correct pronunciation that once again flew way past her head. “That’s how you say my middle name. Which is actually my Chinese name. There’s a silent ‘z’ and an emphasis on the last two vowels.”
She blinked slowly. “Luke, I’ve literally spent the last twenty years butchering your middle name. Another lesson won’t help me now.”
“Fine.” He eyed her. “Proceed.”
“As I was saying, I’m going to help you so your family doesn’t judge you harshly when you take Michelle, or any other black girl, home.”
“Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?”
“I’m…” Her mind went blank. “I don’t know.”
“Okay then.” Luke went back to mopping.
Ashanti’s rubber boots splashed the water as she trudged toward him. “Wait. I’ve got it. How about you take me home and introduce me as your girlfriend.”
“What?”
“I’ll be the pioneer, going into the dangerous jungle to carve a path for the other beautiful black women who will follow. Your family can throw what they want at me. I’ll take it all and convince them black women aren’t the ghetto, ratchet, promiscuous characters they see on television.”
He put a hand on her crown. “Did that faucet hit you in the forehead?”
She swatted him away. “I don’t have a concussion, Luke. What I have is a good idea. And it works too because I have an advantage. Your family already knows me.”
“No.”
“No?” She gawked at him. “You’re just gonna shoot me down?”
Luke formed a gun with his fingers and pulled the ‘trigger’. “Bang.”
Ashanti bucked theatrically. “I got hit!”
Luke laughed. “Thanks for your willingness to brave the ‘dangerous jungle’ that is my family, but I’m good. You don’t have to repay me for today or meddle with me and Michelle.”
She pushed out her bottom lip.
Luke clipped her mouth. “I mean it, Ash.”
“Fine.” She shook her head to get him off. “But don’t come running to me when you start falling for Michelle and realize I might be on to something.”
“Let’s just get this place cleaned up. Okay?”
Ashanti grabbed her mop and focused on the floor.
Chapter Three
The bell above the door jangled. Luke glanced up, expecting to find Ashanti bouncing into the café. It was her habit to stop by after work and try to hustle a free cup of coffee out of him.
Instead, his gaze landed on a group of women—all dressed in colorful polos and khakis. He figured they were from a book club or something and was about to look away when his gaze caught on a familiar face.
She stood out from the rest, her smile a brilliant half-moon that sparkled white. She had long brown hair, incredibly creamy brown skin and soft, arresting eyes.
Michelle.
He’d noticed her the very first time she stepped into his store. Something about her made him unable to look away. When she’d called him over to order, he barely hid his fascination.
Luke had a habit of falling fast and deep, but this was the first time he’d felt this way about a black woman. It was cause for concern. Enough so that, for a brief second, he’d considered Ashanti’s proposal to give his parents a lesson in tolerance.
But doing so would be putting the cart way before the horse. All he and Michelle had shared was a brief conversation when he accidentally gave her the wrong change.
He doubted she even liked Asians.
Did she like Asians?
Guess he’d just never know.
Luke
went over to take their order and was careful not to look directly at Michelle as he did so. Instead, he focused on the checkered table grout and the laminated menus in his customer’s brown, black, and tan hands.
It was a method that would have worked. If Michelle didn’t demand his attention by talking to him.
“Hey, Luke,” she said.
Those simple words were enough to make his heart hammer in his chest. “Hey… Michelle, was it?”
Like you didn’t know her name, idiot.
Michelle didn’t seem bothered by his act. Instead, her smile brightened. “You remembered.”
“Yeah.”
The woman to her right nudged Michelle in the shoulder. She had light brown skin, brown eyes, and brows so thin he’d bet it could fit through the eye of a needle. “You two know each other?”
“Michelle’s in here all the time,” another said. She tossed her long, black dreads off her shoulder and shared, “I think she comes for more than the coffee.”
The pointed look Ms. Dreads aimed his way said enough that even he understood.
“Guys, stop it.” Michelle playfully smacked her friends. She turned to Luke. “Ignore them. We’re all tired and drained after classes today. They’re just taking it out on you.”
“No problem.” Luke clicked his pen. “Are you ready?”
The women gave their orders and, when it was Michelle’s turn, she tapped his wrist. Their gazes collided. Luke’s breath hitched. She was prettier up close than she was from a distance—which was a feat given she looked immaculate from all the way across the room.