“No, why do that when she can make money off me?” I argued with myself aloud.
The bodyguard with the gun opened the door. “Your ride is here,” he said and handed me a cell phone as I climbed out. “Speed dial number one will connect you to Mayanne. She can end the date if you are in danger, and she can arrange pickup. Do not call because you are backing out. There is no backing out.”
He shut the door behind me. “Your ride will arrive in two minutes or less.” He gestured toward the way we’d come. “He’s already prepaid our half. You will be paid your half at the successful conclusion of your date.”
“How much?”
“Three thousand. More if he’s feeling generous. Good luck, Raven.” His gaze raked over me, lingering on the deep V of the dress in the front, before he got into the car with Mayanne and drove away.
I started panicking wondering how long it would take before anyone even noticed I was missing if I were taken or killed. I’d settled on forty-eight hours, which seemed like an awful lot when a train of cars pulled onto the bridge. They appeared to be unmarked police cars to me at first, but as a black limousine parked in front of me, I realized they were private security.
Is she sure I’m not playing Cinderella tonight because it looks like I have a date with a prince?
To find out what happens next with Savannah Jackson, aka Raven, read the next spicy short in Stori Summers’ Date Doctor, a stand-alone series.
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Stori Summers offers a peek at: Finding Grace
Grace Doughty listened at the door in her above garage apartment she was renting. Some mornings Mrs. O’Keefe was out early gossiping with the neighbor in front of the garage, and it never failed that every time Grace had to walk past them they would greet her and ask her questions.
Answering questions from Mrs. O’Keefe was like walking through a minefield. The way she seemed to read between the lines of things that had no underlying meaning and find fault or the way she would find something worthy of gossiping over always kept Grace on edge.
This morning she didn’t hear them. Maybe she’d be lucky and get out the door to go to work before the two got started with their gossiping session. Grabbing her keys and purse, she opened the door, stepped out, and quickly locked it behind her.
Taking silent hurried steps down the stairs Grace held her breath as she reached the cement landing.
“Mornin’, Miss Doughty.” Mr. O’Keefe called from the front yard where he was watering the flowers.
He saw me sneaking down the stairs? He must think I’m such a wacko.
Grace’s fair-skinned face heated up, and she felt it travel down her neck over her back and throughout her body. Her lips shook a little as she prepared to answer him. “Good morning,” she said but he didn’t look her way. She hadn’t spoken loud enough again. He didn’t hear her.
If her mother were still alive today she would have been scolding her. Grace could practically hear her saying, “Speak up. Be heard. Don’t you want people to know you’re somebody worth listening to, girl?”
I’m still trying, Mama.
She bowed her head and continued to stroll up the driveway. The walk to her job was only a couple of miles and Grace enjoyed it most days.
When she reached the end of the driveway, she turned left onto Dawkins Street, a small––residential mostly––street with no sidewalk. The road wasn’t busy that day. Grace took advantage of walking under the umbrella of the trees that lined the street, finding it a peaceful way to start the day.
As she drew closer to Texas Avenue, the butterflies in her stomach began to take flight. She could already feel her body starting into a full blush and all because she was thinking about Augustine Prichard. Augustine was the young man who bought one of the rundown restaurants on Texas Avenue and turned it into a classy restaurant with live music, dancing, and fine southern food.
People from all over came to try out The Augustine. Women took notice, just as Grace did, that Augustine himself was one good-looking man. While the other women focused on his success, looks, and status, Grace was more impressed by his kindness, his confidence, and his quiet nature. He wasn’t trying to be the center of attention, and yet he did just fine in the spotlight.
Sometimes when she walked by The Augustine on her way to work she’d get to see him through the front windows. There were a few times he was outside on the street and she got to hear him speak. His voice was a deep baritone, and it was the most masculine and sexy sound Grace swore she’d ever heard. Not that she ever told anyone what she thought of Augustine.
When she was within a close distance, she noticed The Augustine’s door was propped open. Her heart was pounding in her chest and growing louder the closer she got to the restaurant. Passing traffic with engines roaring and horns blaring all faded away into the background as she continued down the walkway.
Just beyond the second set of windows to The Augustine was the very man she was hoping to catch a glimpse of. She clutched her purse tighter in her hands. Grace tried to pretend that all her skin wasn’t the same color as her strawberry blonde hair while she was in her state of full-bodied blushing.
“Well, I’ll be.” Grace heard his voice before she saw him and her spirits sank like a smooth river rock tossed into a creek. Shannon Clout.
Lord, why did it have to be him? Anybody, except Shannon, would have been better.
Shannon exited The Augustine with a box of the house wine under his arm. His small blue eyes swept up and down Grace even as she tried to quickly pass him. “Where is pink Miss Grace going to this morning?” He stepped into her path, blocking her from moving unless she tried to go around him on the other side.
If she went the other way, people would look at them. They’d see how weak and pathetic she was. At least if she held still and kept her head down, they might believe that the two of them were just talking.
“Hello? Can you answer me? Grace.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face making her jump to which he laughed. His round stomach bounced and his shirt stretched, straining the buttons, when he laughed.
“I’m going to work,” Grace said.
He cupped his ear with his fat hand. “You what?” Shannon asked, his voice so loud that people up and down Texas Avenue must have heard him. She could feel more heat drawing to her face and knew she was blushing harder than before. Shannon laughed, slapping his knee. “You’re about as pink as a watermelon now, pink Miss Grace.”
Shannon reached out to touch her arm. His fat fingers were sticky, and she could smell the whiskey he’d probably chased his breakfast down with on his breath.
Just be still. He’ll get tired of embarrassing me and leave me alone.
Her face darkened a deeper shade of pink at her own words. She knew she was acting like a coward. The trouble was she didn’t know how to be anything more.
“Is there a problem out here?”
Augustine. Of course, he’d have to witness me being a complete doormat.
“No, August. I’m just saying hi to an old high school girlfriend of mine.” He laughed again.
Grace felt like there was so much blood in her face from the humiliation of August seeing her act like such a weakling, along with the added bonus of being called the girlfriend of a jerk like Shannon.
Why would he even say that? He hates me.
“Ma’am?” Augustine asked Grace as he came fully out of his place of business to check that she was indeed all right. His big hand pressed against the chest of Shannon forcing him back a few steps from her.
He was wearing black leather shoes, black slacks and a sky-blue button up shirt with an orange silk tie. If he was wearing a hat, Grace couldn’t say. She couldn’t bring herself to raise her gaze any higher
than his chest. No doubt his deep sea green eyes were seeking out hers.
“She’s the shyest human on the planet, August. You ain’t gonna get two words out of that pink lady.” Shannon set off laughing again as he took his box of wine to his truck. Still laughing, he walked around the white Toyota Tacoma and got into the driver’s seat.
Grace fisted her hands around her purse. Doing her best to find a response and end the humiliation. Nothing was coming out of her mouth even though her lips were moving.
Dammit.
Her hands began to shake.
“You live around here, don’t you? I see you walk by nearly every day. Alexandria isn’t the biggest city in Louisiana but I sure do like it. Feels like home even though I grew up in a town pretty far from here.” His deep voice and easy pace soothed her frazzled nerves and she was finally able to sneak a peek at his face.
Augustine’s chestnut brown hair was a bit longer than the last time that she’d seen it when it was halfway down his ears. This time the ends of his hair reached his rectangular jawline. All his facial features were masculine like his voice. Even the cleft in his chin gave him a hard edge, tough man look.
“Shannon is a loud mouth kind of man but I don’t believe he’d do you any harm. All the same, you need to let him know his advances aren’t welcome.” He sighed and then laughed. “Look at me out here giving you advice when we only just met.”
Grace watched him as he pushed his long hair behind his ear. “Are you all right?” he asked squatting low and catching her blue eyes.
She nodded and quickly turned away her face.
Her stomach was buzzing like she’d swallowed a wasp’s nest.
He has the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen and he smells like something I’d like to bathe in. Lord, if that’s a sin, I’m sorry, but it’s true.
Find out what happens next! Buy:
Finding Grace by Stori Summers
Available Now!
Sneak Peak at: Southern Born Billionaires: Incognito
by Stori Summers
I checked off the last item on my list of topics to cover with the management staff with a relieved smile. The meeting had already gone over twenty minutes, and I had things to do that weren’t going to keep waiting for me.
“Any questions?” I asked as I began to close my folders that were placed on the conference room table.
Pierre, the manager at the Bait and Tackle Shop, raised his hand and the other managers groaned. “Get mad all chu want, I’m askin’,” he said in his thick Cajun accent.
“Yes, Pierre?” I widened my gaze at him hoping he’d catch the hint this time and not try to convince me to sell his family’s homemade catfish bait. He grinned at me, which let me know immediately that he wasn’t going to be put off.
“Ma’am, I wish chu would be so kind to reconsider selling my family’s stink bait for ‘dem dere catfish I been telling chu ‘bout…” And on he went only this time I couldn’t muster up the strength to listen to his sales pitch of why he thought it was a great idea to start making and selling the catfish bait he so lovingly dubbed T-boy’s Catfish Ball’s and was prepared to stake his reputation on it. The bait was made using a concoction of very offensive smelling ingredients like blood, nacho cheese, chicken livers, and many more additives designed to produce the most grotesque smell one could imagine.
Instead of listening to Pierre, I was daydreaming about leaning back against a muscular, warm chest of a man who was just dying to rub my shoulders and take on this massive load I was carrying. Keeping Big Pines Marina, the family business, going. Shouldering the burden of paperwork, I nearly laughed out loud at myself.
And when in the world am I going to meet such a man, Alexandra? When am I going to have time for a man? The last time I had sex was almost a year ago.
“Will you shut up about your stupid bait already?” Maxwell Potter, the cabins director, growled at Pierre.
“Pierre,” I said holding up my hand to quiet Maxwell, even though I felt the same way. “We don’t have room to install the coolers to keep it cold. Remember? I believe you that the bait works but the cooler space just isn’t there. Also, you know as well as I do if just one of those little balls ever reaches room temperature the smell will drive away every guest we have. Okay?”
Pierre rubbed his well-trimmed deep brown mustache and beard. His blue eyes sparkling with that devilish streak of his. “Yeah ya rite,” he said grinning at Maxwell. “Ya know y’all might consider using one uh dem der cabins fer de coolers—”
“No.” Maxwell growled leaning forward on the table. His pointy chin jerking from side to side. He looked to me for confirmation, his dirty-blond hair sticking up in the back after he ran his hand through it.
Pierre did love to get Maxwell riled up, perhaps too much.
“Stop it, you two, keep on, and I’ll fire you both. I’m fixin’ to deny both of you of your next vacation requests unless you settle down.”
Maxwell and Pierre looked at me like two young boys getting in trouble, only they were both in their thirties. Still, those two sets of blue eyes looking at me with horror was priceless.
“Ignore them,” Alley Perkins, my lodge manager, said shaking her head at the pair of them. “The only time those two are happy is when they’re fighting.” She tucked her long dark red hair behind her ear as she stood. “Thanks for your help with the new hires, Alexandra, they are working out great.”
I gave Alley, who’s not only my employee but also my friend, a thumbs up, admiring the way she could just get up and go without feeling like she had to stay and placate the group like I did.
My dad laughed, nodding his agreement and pushing off the table to get to his feet. I winced inwardly seeing how stiff he’d become from sitting for a while. It was age. He was in his seventies, but my dad is one of those great young hearted guys who never seem to age until they are very old and suddenly start slowing down.
With his white beard and deep smile lines etched in his face, he looked distinguished and much younger than his age, even if he is moving slower.
We lost my mom a few years back, and since Dad was all I had left, it was hard to see him showing any signs of age. At times, I struggle to keep from staring at him, reminding myself to cherish every moment we have together.
Come on, Alexandra. Keep moving.
We all filed out of the conference room, and my dad held the door open with a big smile just for me. His green eyes were bright like the inside of kiwi fruit. “Did you hear that new ingredient he threw in there? Ripe sardines from a can? I think he does it just to get under Maxwell’s skin.” Dad chuckled.
“Yes well, I wish he could do that on his own time.”
Dad clapped his hand on my back walking with me toward my office. “Know what I miss?”
Mom?
“What’s that?”
He pinched my cheek playfully. “I miss hearing you laugh. It’s high time you take a day off. You’re going to work yourself into the ground, sweetheart.”
I kissed my dad on the cheek. “You’re right. I’ll definitely think about it this time.” I winked at him when he raised his bushy white brows at me.
“When’s the last time you went on a date, kitten? Or out with your friends?”
“Dad,” I said in a near whine. “Please don’t start. You know I just don’t have the time. Not right now, not with all the upcoming fishing tournaments and summer break.”
He nodded. “You got to make the time. Now, why not set aside a half hour and go swim in the new pool? I cleaned it this morning, and she’s sparkling like the sea, only cleaner.” He laughed.
I loved that he was still so active even though he was in his seventies. I hoped I’d be just as energetic and positive about life as he was. My dad said I got my mother’s stubborn streak and heart-shaped face, while my mom always said I had my father’s eyes, contagious smile, and cannon-fused temper.
“I promise to try.” I smiled at him giving his shoulder a squeeze before I ste
pped into my office. The yellow sticky notes I stacked on my calendar for the day was my to-do list, and it was daunting.
Taking a seat behind my desk, I began to sort the pile so I could be more efficient. Keeping Big Pines Marina, the top marina on Toledo Bend Lake, was not an easy task but I loved it.
My family carved the marina out of the mud. Back in the early70s, they started with only a few small aluminum boats to rent and a bait shop. The red-dirt bank was home to a large boat launch, twenty cabins, boat and pontoon rentals, a small forty room lodge hotel, a restaurant and gift shop, a tackle shop, and as of two weeks ago, a swimming pool and spa for the ladies and children.
The staff here was like my second family. I’ve spent so much time with all of them. I knew how lucky I was. Like everyone else in this busy world, I was tired. Dad was right. I needed to carve out some time to do more things that would make me happy––fun things.
I took out my pad of pink sticky notes and wrote myself a note. Do something fun today. Then I stuck the note into my pile hoping I would take the advice and not push it to the next day.
My hand-held radio chirped, and I heard Alley calling for maintenance. Yep, the day was starting and there was no more time to sit and try to think of what fun thing I would do.
I reached for my phone with my first to-do post-it note in hand when someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” I called as I set the phone back down on the cradle.
“Hey, did you eat some breakfast?” Rosa, my best friend in the whole world, asked in her thick Columbian accent. She already had her hand on her curvy hip. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her big brown eyes were daring me to lie to her. She always knows when I try.
“I will.”
“Yes, you will. Because, honey, if you don’t you get the cranky.” She nodded.
I couldn’t help smiling. “I get the cranky?” I repeated. I love it when Rosa gives me advice because even though she’s pretty good at speaking English, she still gets her words and the order of them mixed up sometimes.
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