by Dara Girard
Midnight Promise
Dara Girard
Contents
Midnight Promise
Dear Reader Letter
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
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Also Available
About the Author
Copyright Information
Midnight Promise
Dara Girard
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Published by ILORI PRESS BOOKS LLC
www.iloripressbooks.com
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Author.
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About the Book
Microbiologist, Dr. Naomi Mensah, always gets into trouble due to her absent-minded ways. She finds herself in trouble again at her cousin’s wedding when she loses an expensive gift down a grate while walking to her car.
When a mysterious stranger offers to help her retrieve it, she feels relieved.
Until he asks her to make him a wild promise.
A promise that will get Naomi in more trouble than she could have ever imagined.
The second book in the It Happened One Wedding series.
Dear Reader Letter
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the second book in the It Happened One Wedding series where the best part of the story is after “I do.”
Have you ever known someone who just seems unlucky? They lock their keys in the car on the same day they’re running late? They get their clothes caught in doors or sharp corners?
Well, Dr. Naomi Mensah is one such woman. She has no time to think romance when her world constantly seems to be falling apart.
Enter Sebastian Scott, a man she resists at first until she learns he’s the one person she can’t live without.
I hope you enjoy Midnight Promise.
All the best,
Dara
Chapter 1
The strange noises in her bedroom should have been her first clue.
The noises should have alerted her to the fact that her life, as she knew it, was about to blow up in her face. But Dr. Naomi Mensah had been so tired after returning from her trip to Costa Rica for a conference, that the strange noises didn’t register at first. The flight had been delayed and traffic hellish, but she was still happy to be back, a day before scheduled, to get work done. As much as she liked attending workshops and listening to experts in her field to find out about the latest discoveries and developments, she preferred to be working in her lab.
Her research lab was her haven and every day she looked forward to being there.
As she entered her one bedroom apartment, on the first floor of a remodeled three level apartment complex tucked away in a Maryland suburb, she’d only been thinking of slipping into bed as she dropped her suitcase in the cluttered foyer, stacked with old trade journals, newspapers and books she wanted to donate, but never got around to.
The noises rose and fell in a strange rhythmic pattern. Naomi immediately thought her housekeeper, Maya, was struggling to shift furniture so she could find areas to clean, although if Naomi had been more clearheaded, she would have known that scenario was unlikely. Maya James, a heavyset girl in her mid-twenties with a smile as bright as the moon on a clear night and a walk as slow as a snail stuck in honey, appeared to be allergic to any type of exertion. Especially dusting, washing and vacuuming. It was only after hiring her that Naomi discovered that Maya was the second cousin of the owner of the cleaning service.
But by that time, she’d been fooled by the younger woman’s charming smile and didn’t want to have to find someone else. Luckily, Naomi wasn’t too particular in her housecleaning needs and felt Maya did a serviceable job and since Naomi was rarely home—she spent most of her waking hours at the lab—as long as the basics were taken care of, toilets cleaned, shower and tub scrubbed, kitchen organized, she didn’t have any real complaints.
“Maya, I’m back,” Naomi called out to her, hoping not to scare her as she headed to her bedroom. “I know it’s early, but a main speaker wasn’t able to attend, so I decided to come home. I just want to sleep so you can finish cleaning tomorrow.” She opened her bedroom door and stopped when she saw two people in a position that made her face burn with embarrassment. “Oh, excuse me,” she quickly said before she closed the door and turned back to the hall.
Then she paused and realized she hadn’t just entered the wrong room in a hotel, she was in her apartment. There were two people in her bed!
She swung open the door again. She clearly hadn’t been loud enough with her first entrance because the couple hadn’t stopped their activity. It looked as if they’d increased their amorous interaction.
Naomi’s gaze dropped to the dark pair of trousers lying on the wood floor that sat next to a pair of orange and black striped boxers. Did the man think he was a tiger? Her gaze shifted to the bright pink bra on the bed post, black fishnets pooled beneath it. Maya’s sturdy brown legs were wrapped around the man while he grunted like a boar, beads of sweat glistening on his bald brown head. The room smelled of warm bodies and expensive cologne.
“What is going on!” Naomi said, banging the door with her fist to get their attention. Her actions had the desired effect: The bed stopped squeaking, the moaning and grunting halted and two expressions of surprised disbelief met hers.
The man scrambled out of the bed with an agility that belied his large size. He wasn’t exactly fat, but was soft enough around the middle to hint at a decades’ long career sitting at a desk. As he pulled on his boxers, Naomi noticed a gold ring on one of his chubby fingers. She hadn’t realized Maya was married to a man nearly twenty years her senior. She understood new adventures helped to keep a marriage fresh and alive, but didn’t appreciate them finding it like this.
“Sorry,” he said breathless. “Didn’t realize it was so late.” He quickly buttoned up his conservative, light green shirt.
“Just go,” Naomi said.
He shoved on his shoes and grabbed his coat. Naomi impatiently waited for him to finish, half expecting him to kiss Maya on the cheek and tell her he’d see her later, but he didn’t. Instead he reached inside his coat. It was only when he pulled out his wallet that Naomi finally understood the full picture.
The stranger wasn’t Maya’s husband, but a paying customer. Naomi snatched the crisp bills out of his hand before Maya could. “Thank you,” she said, tucking the money in her jeans pocket. “Now go and forget you ever came here.”
He nodded and left.
When Maya didn’t immediately follow, Naomi turned to her. She knew the girl could move slowly, but her movements had become glacial. The man had already changed and left, but Maya was just latching up her bra. She still had a cream white blouse and black skirt to put on. “Why are you still here?” Naomi demanded
Maya reached for the blouse. “You haven’t paid me yet.”
Naomi folded her ar
ms. “That’s a joke, right?”
“I cleaned the kitchen. I mopped the floor.”
For some wild reason, Naomi imagined Maya with the man making their way across the kitchen floor with every forward thrust moving Maya’s bottom across the ground.
Naomi grabbed Maya’s fishnets, heels and skirt then headed for the door.
“Hey, those are mine!”
Naomi opened her front door and tossed them out into the hallway. “I know.”
“I can’t go out there half dressed.”
“Don’t worry, nobody’s looking. And if they are, you’ve got great legs.” Naomi shoved a screaming Maya out the door and closed it while Maya continued her nasty name calling. She leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Was this really happening? Did she really just see that?
A few seconds later, Naomi straightened when someone knocked on her front door. She sighed and answered, “What?”
Maya stood there and flashed her bright, beautiful smile. “Could you keep this between us?”
Naomi slammed the door closed.
Chapter 2
“And then what did you do?” Naomi’s younger sister, Elia, asked at the reception of their cousin’s wedding. The two women stood under the large, white canopy being pounded by an unexpected spring rain. The bride, looking as if she belonged on top of a five tiered wedding cake, dressed in an ivory gown with long lace sleeves, sat in the corner, tears streaming down her face. The wedding ceremony had been ruined by the sudden downpour and she refused to dance or be comforted because she felt her marriage was doomed. Three bridesmaids, dressed in matching neon pink and turquoise dresses, surrounded her, trying their best to ease her distress. The groom, dressed in a navy suit and patterned tie, stood to the side with his best man, smoking something that didn’t look or smell like a cigarette, but everybody pretended was.
Naomi and Elia took little notice of the groom or the bride since they were used to their cousin’s dramatics and knew with enough coaxing she’d soon be taking over the dance floor. So they busied themselves at the make-your-own flower station where guests were given printed instructions and could work with an array of spray mums, different colored roses and colorful ribbons and pins to create their own corsage or boutonniere.
Behind them, other guests ate and chatted at the various purple covered round tables with white decorative accents, or took to the dance floor.
Naomi grabbed another spray of mums, wishing she could forget the incident that had happened three days ago. “There wasn’t much to do.”
Naomi glanced at the teary bride then the groom. He had a similar build as the man she’d found in her bedroom and soon the image of the man’s tiger colored boxers and big brown bottom, bobbing up and down in the air, crashed into her thoughts. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to close her eyes again. She groaned. “I come back from Costa Rica to discover my housekeeper has been using my apartment as a…” She shivered unable to finish the sentence. “I have to move. God knows how long she’s been doing this. How many men have been going in and out of my place?” Naomi grabbed a pin and pricked her finger. She silently swore and sucked on it. “This is a nightmare.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elia said, expertly tying a ribbon around her corsage. She was good at crafts. Naomi’s younger sister excelled at most things domestic or otherwise. She was the kind of woman who could win a beauty pageant, garden prize and baking prize all in the same day. She was a slender woman of refined manners and taste, her black hair was pulled back in a chignon, the blue dress she wore complimenting her dusty cocoa skin.
Naomi, in contrast, could already feel the knot of her braid coming lose; her green dress was too tight and too short. It was a cocktail dress with a flared skirt she’d grabbed at some dress shop, which was more suited for a cocktail party than a wedding. She’d fallen for the shop owners’ assurance that it was perfect for her and that the color complemented Naomi’s walnut colored skin.
Naomi had none of her sister’s refined traits—being all thumbs in a garden, a disaster in the kitchen and although some remarked on the prettiness of her brown eyes, few looked past the serious dark eyes surrounded by heavy frames and her boyish figure to notice.
Naomi checked her finger for blood then grabbed the pin again. “I’ve already had two men show up at my place.”
“You can’t stay there.”
“I know,” she said, pricking herself again. “And I also have to get a new bed.”
Elia snatched the pin from her. “What is wrong with you? You’re worse than Susan,” she said, referring to her four-year-old daughter. “Use the ribbons instead.”
“I was following the instructions.” She pointed to the elegantly typed card. “It says—”
“I know what it says, but you can’t do it. Remember when Mom tried to teach you how to use the sewing machine?”
Naomi cleared her throat, heat stealing into her cheeks as she recalled the incident. “I was young and I only needed a few stitches.”
“You were seventeen and Mom wouldn’t let me near a sewing machine for years because of you.”
Naomi grabbed one of the red ribbons.
“Why do you need a new bed?” her sister asked.
Naomi wrapped the ribbon around the stem of her flowers, but one slipped out of her grasp and fell to the ground. “I found a strange man in it,” she said, picking the flower up. “Do I need to tell you the story again?”
“No,” Elia said, watching her sister struggle to bind the stems together before taking it from her and doing it herself. “I mean you could just change the sheets and…”
Naomi watched her sister’s expert hand, refusing to meet her eye. “I got upset so after they left I…” She licked her lip and toyed with her necklace. “I cut it up.”
Elia’s hands paused; Naomi slowly lifted her gaze to meet her sister’s stunned expression. “You cut it up?”
That had been Pete O’Connell’s fault. After stripping the sheets, with the ferocity of a zealot eager to toss a witch into a bonfire, she’d gotten a call from her research assistant, Monica, apologizing and telling her that she couldn’t be part of Naomi’s project because she was going to be working with Pete instead.
The arrogant, two faced bastard had stolen yet another top research assistant from her. Naturally, she didn’t let her disappoint show. She wished Monica the best then hung up, grabbed a pair of scissors and attacked the bed as if she’d found Pete with Maya’s legs wrapped around him, his annoyingly smug grin wiped clean off his face. He also had a similar build as the man she’d found with Maya. Big and bald with a peppered beard and ruddy cheeks. “Are you happy now?” she asked with each stab. “You couldn’t stop with just one?”
Elia snapped her fingers in front of Naomi’s face, bringing her out of her memory. “You cut up your mattress?”
Naomi nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
She didn’t want to tell her about Pete, that would sound crazy. She shrugged. “I got angry.”
“You know I could have used it.”
“No, I didn’t actually.”
“Because you don’t think about things like that,” Elia snapped. “I told you that we had to reorganize our guest room for Barry’s great aunt and that the headboard got broken.”
Yes, she had, Naomi now remembered. She just hadn’t paid attention. “I’ll help you get another one.”
“What a waste. Next time call me.”
“There had better not be a next time.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She sighed, wistful. “I always loved your bed. You have terrible taste in most things, but it was gorgeous. The oak inlay—”
Naomi frowned. “Terrible taste?”
Elia adjusted a flower in her corsage. “We both know that you spend more time in your lab than anywhere else. You’d be happy with just a cot if you could get away with it.”
“Still that was a little harsh.” Naomi glanced down at her dress. “I even
tried to look nice tonight.”
Her sister patted her affectionately on the arm. “I know you tried and it shows.”
Naomi paused not sure if that was a compliment or insult. Her sister eventually made it clear when she added, “You’re lucky the dress isn’t pink or you’d end up looking like a flamingo.”
Naomi pulled a face, but decided not to care. Was it her fault she’d gotten their father’s skinny legs? “Besides, I only got rid of the mattress not the entire bed so you weren’t going to get it anyway.”
A woman in a large orange hat, tottering on black heels that were accented with a flower design at the ankle latch, with a gait that made her look as if she were constantly walking on egg shells, approached them. “What are you two doing over here? You should be comforting your cousin. She’s in such a state.”
Naomi looked at her cousin who was now wiping her tears with a handkerchief. “She just wants the attention, Mom. It’s not as if it’s her first wedding.”
June Mensah kissed her teeth. “Who are you to talk? At least she’s had two husbands,” she said, holding up two fingers as if it were a crude gesture. “You can’t even get one.”
“I don’t want one.”
“Quiet!” June said, then looked to the right and the left as if to make sure no one overheard. “If you speak like that, people will believe you.”
Naomi feathered the petals of a mum. “Which is exactly the point.”
Her mother patted her cheek, a look of sympathy crossing her handsome features. “Don’t worry, my darling, your time will come.”
“Mom, you’re not listening. I don’t—”
“I see you’re wearing your aunt’s necklace. You finally got the clasp fixed like I told you?”
No. “Of course,” she said. She’d intended to, but the task kept escaping her mind and after the housekeeper incident, she had completely forgotten about fixing the clasp before she’d chosen to wear it. It was an expensive gift from her aunt that her mother had warned her about handling with care, but she didn’t think it made much sense to keep something locked away that was meant to be worn.
