by Jolie Day
The traveling was wonderful and so was having a writing career where Georgie had her own voice, but more amazing than anything was the love that grew between her and Charlie as the weeks became months, and the months become years. Who would have thought that Lucy, as stern and conservative as she was, would have been the very one to send Georgie on the adventure of a lifetime? Charlie and Georgie laughed about it when they reminisced with the new friends and old as they spent the years crossing the country and even going overseas for a spell.
Charlie had always said that he would never leave the road, but, as they grew older, his restless nature came to a still and the two did find themselves with those shuttered windows and little picket fence. They stayed in one place as they built new careers, raised their children and grew old together, but the love for the roar of an engine and the feel of leather on skin never left them. Whenever there was a warm evening with the promise of a beautiful night, the two would hop onto that old bike together and ride off into the sunset once again.
THE END
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Denise Meredith Bentley stared into the beautiful colors on her computer screen. She idly chose a brightly colored piece of candy and watched as it switched places with its neighbor. It clicked as it locked into place and then vanished in a poof of animated magic and sing-song sound effects. She was leaning over awkwardly in her seat, resting her chin in her hand as she propped herself up with one elbow, her head cocked to one side in a disinterested gaze.
She only indulged in silly computer games like this when there wasn’t anything going on at work – which is to say, fairly often. Well, more often than she’d have liked, anyway. When things did get busy at work, she loved her job. Most of the time, though, she had to find ways to keep herself entertained.
Denise’s boss was Gabriel Miles, a successful young entrepreneur who ran a number of local businesses, including a print shop, a custodial staffing agency, a small chain of dry cleaners and a lunch stand downtown across from the courthouse. As his executive assistant, Denise sorted his mail and managed his calendar. She often responded to his email and made calls on his behalf, but when he wasn’t in the office, she usually didn’t have enough work to keep herself busy.
At first, she’d tried to occupy her time by organizing the small cache of office supplies she kept in a cabinet behind her desk, but that job was finished a bit too quickly. Then she’d discovered the label maker and labeled everything she could think of. Shelves in the broom closet were for Toilet Paper, Paper Towels, and Soap. There was Sugar and Creamer next to the Coffee Maker and Cups in the break room, Printer Paper on the shelf next to the printer, which Denise decided not to label, and miniature bins for Paper Clips, Binder Clips and Thumbtacks. She had just made up her mind to label her Stapler when she ran out of label tape and wisely decided to abandon the effort altogether.
After two years working in the tiny, poorly lit office, she was beginning to think about making a change. The sole reason she hadn’t acted on that urge yet was Gabriel Miles himself. He was a multi-millionaire who had made his own way in life. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he usually got it. He had a winning smile and a determined air that Denise hoped to emulate one day. She had a lot to learn from him if she was ever going to become a successful entrepreneur herself.
Although he had a brash way about him and was often hard on his employees, Gabe more than made up for his aggressive personality with irresistible good looks and rakish sex appeal. Miles was the kind of man who could show up at a business convention and have three different women dropping key cards discretely into his coat pocket within an hour’s time. It didn’t matter so much that he wasn’t terribly nice, Denise thought, not when he was so terribly nice to look at.
It also didn’t hurt that he was charming and witty with a rebellious streak that somehow only served to enhance his allure. When he wasn’t busy managing investments and starting new businesses, he liked to let off steam by going for long rides on his touring bike, a custom orange and black Harley Davidson complete with state of the art sound system and chrome detail. It was fast and mean, just like Gabe, and it made a pleasing and raucous rumble whenever he fired it up. Denise caught herself more than once daydreaming about what it’d be like on the back of Gabe’s sweet ride. She’d never experienced the joy of motorcycle riding, but it seemed like it would be pretty cool.
She wondered if Gabriel had ever been with a woman of her size and figured the answer was almost certainly not. It’s too bad, she thought. He didn’t know what he was missing. But he was the type of guy who dated only thin, beautiful model types, and Denise certainly wasn’t that. Although she was neither petite nor thin, she was quite stylish and liked to wear tailored, professional-looking outfits. They were more flattering on her larger frame than some of the Bohemian chic styles that girls her age typically wore, and they made her feel sophisticated and polished.
A happy little sound effect signaled that Denise had just made a particularly advantageous move. She sat up straight, stretched her arms over her head and yawned broadly before leaning back in her chair. She was just considering what she was going to do with the remainder of her morning when she heard the familiar thunder of Gabe Miles’ Harley rumbling into the parking lot. Instinctively she bounced over to the window and split the blinds with her fingers so she could catch a glimpse of his dismount.
He cut the engine and removed his helmet, revealing his stylishly mussed brown hair and goatee, which were nicely set off by a pair of aviator sunglasses and a black leather jacket. He stood up and swung his leg over the back of the bike, locking his helmet into place on the back. The move turned him around so she got a good view from the back. His jeans were relaxed and faded, and he filled them out nicely, she noticed.
“Ooh-wee! Mmm!” Denise said approvingly before heading back to her desk. She giggled mischievously and wheeled herself around to face her computer screen. She closed the game she’d been playing and picked up her phone, scrolling through her notes to find Gabe’s messages. As he came breezing through the front door, she got up and shadowed him into his office. He didn’t seem to be in the mood, though, and put his hand up beside his face as if to hide from her.
“I’m not really here,” he said as he rummaged through his desk drawers. “I’m at the Small Business Conference all day. Just stopped off to gra—”
“Katie from the lunch stand called,” Denise interjected, paying no heed to her boss’ dismissive air. “She said the bread delivery never came.”
He paused, and then looked at her incredulously.
“What? Did you call the bakery?”
“Yes, and they said they didn’t get an order this week.”
Gabe grabbed a handful of business cards and tucked them into his cardholder.
“OK,” he said absentmindedly. “Fix it.” And with that, he started out of the office.
“What — fix it?” said Denise. “How am I supposed to fix it?”
He stopped with his back to her. Without even turning around he said condescendingly, “They need bread. You take them some bread. Problem solved.” He glided out the doorway without so much as a goodbye.
“Have a nice day,” Denise said gloomily to the door as it slammed shut.
She grumbled under her breath as she called to find out what bread she should buy.
“Miles to Go, Katie speaking. We’re open at eleven,” she said informatively.
“Katie, it’s Denise.”
“Oh, hi Denise.”
“He said I should just pick some up and run it over to you. What kind do you need and how much?”
Denise took Katie’s bread order and forwarded all office phone calls to her cell before heading out. She swung by the closest bakery on her way downtown, selecting a marble rye, two whole-wheat loaves and a 12-grain loaf as well as a dozen ciabatta rolls. By the time she got to the lunch stand, Kati
e was already explaining their bread situation to an impatient customer.
“I’ve got a baguette and some sourdough,” she offered helpfully. When she saw Denise come through the door, she exhaled heavily, “Ah, the cavalry’s here!” She quickly crossed the length of the counter and ushered the loaves into their proper places on the sandwich line, then turned her attention back to taking her customer’s order.
“Thank you,” Katie mouthed at Denise as she slipped out the door. She gave Katie a smile in response and strolled back to her car, considering which of her own errands she might like to run now that she was out of the office. After all, there was no point returning to work if Gabriel was going to be at that conference the rest of the day.
She’d just made it out of downtown traffic and was about to get on the freeway ramp when a blue Honda came out of nowhere, clipped her right rear fender and sent her spiraling across the road. The world turned in swooshes around Denise’s head as her silver Prius spun out onto the grassy median. The friction between tires and grass might have stopped her safely if the vehicle hadn’t had quite so much momentum. As it was, the passenger side wheels lifted up off the ground, and Denise went skidding backward along the grass, the driver’s side door and its tiny airbag the only buffer between her body and the raw, mangled earth below.
As the Prius slowly came to a stop, the car inexplicably fell back onto its wheels, bouncing so hard as it landed that Denise hit her head on the ceiling. The air slowly hissed out of the airbags as she sat momentarily stunned. Then she checked her arms and chest for wounds and turned the rearview mirror so she could see her face. There were some scratches on her arms and she could tell she was bruised, but other than that, she seemed to be all right. She wiggled her toes just to be sure, and then unbuckled her seatbelt.
The blue Honda seemed to have suffered an even worse fate than the Prius, Denise observed as she shakily stepped out. Its right front end was badly damaged from the impact, and the windshield was punctured, caved in, and etched with a million cracks stretching out in a sunburst pattern across its surface. The driver’s door was severely dented and the window itself was gone. Denise rushed over and found the driver, a barely conscious young man, holding a bloody arm over his stomach.
“Oh my God, are you OK?” Denise leaned through the gaping hole that had been his window and was shocked by what she saw. The man appeared to be bleeding badly from his torso, although it was impossible to say where exactly, due to the amount of blood that had already stained his blue t-shirt. His eyes and mouth were open, but he didn’t seem to comprehend his situation. He looked down at his chest.
“Oh, shit,” said the man. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, Denise thought, horrified at the gruesome sight of his glossy blood, which seemed to be pooling in places and had begun to saturate his khaki shorts. “Here,” he said, grabbing a manila envelope from the dashboard and shoving it into her hands. He tapped it a few times as he said, “Take this…here.”
Denise looked down at the package. It was blank except for a return address.
Brisbaine Transport
12875 Industrial Drive
Farleigh, IN 46325
The man tapped again. “Give it to him…” he said, tapping the name.
“Give it to who? You mean the owner?” Denise asked. The boy relaxed when she’d understood his meaning. He let his arm fall and slumped farther down in his seat.
“I’ll call 9-1-1,” she said, trying to reassure him. She wanted to give him the hope he needed to hold on. She needed to believe it wasn’t already too late.
...
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About the Author
Jolie Day’s favorite genre to write in is Romance, more specifically BBW romance stories, both contemporary and thriller/mystery. She lives in Miami, FL with her boyfriend and their golden retriever, Rosie. She enjoys snorkeling and water sports. When she is not writing her romance stories, she can be found on the beach reading and spending time with friends and family.
Jolie’s passion for reading extended to writing at a young age. After graduating high school she attended the University of Miami and majored in Journalism. After college she has worked as an editor for a few small publications, but is currently working full time as a freelance writer. Visit her author page on Amazon for other stories.
Bonus Story 1
The Billionaire Bad Boy
BBW Romance
Amelia Carrington was no stranger to the theory of rushing. It wasn’t her fault really, despite her relentless attempts at being on time. Regardless of the situation she found herself typically late to almost everything. There was an ongoing joke about it in her family. Her mother had been stuck in traffic when she was in labor, and because of this, Amelia is late for everything. Today was no different. She had a presentation at 10 and she was having a harder time than usual getting her car going. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror of the car. She had pulled her blonde hair back in a bun and wore very little makeup. She wanted to be taken seriously; for her mind, not as a dumb blonde like many of the men already treated her.
At 27 she had taken great pains to get through college. She was the oldest of three children in a middle class neighborhood. Her father had been a site manager at a construction company until he passed away a few years ago, the doctors said it was a heart attack; her mother had always been a homemaker. As a child she had seen them struggle to feed the family and she had vowed never to be in that place herself. It had probably killed her father, the stress of it all. She worked two jobs to get through college without incurring too much debt. She graduated and attacked the marketing field with a fever. She wanted to create, and she wanted to make a name for herself.
The uphill climb to being successful was a slow one, and in addition to her being chronically late all of the time she had very little patience as well. The two often got her in more trouble than anything else. She finally grabbed her portfolio and smoothed down her cream colored blouse and got in her car to head to the office. She could feel the excitement stir within her. Today, she was going to take the first big step in getting everything she wanted. She glanced in the rearview mirror and the clear blue eyes gave her a once over before she pulled out of her driveway.
*****
Luke was amused more than anything. He stood by his car and smiled as he observed the two people on his lawn kissing. They were probably the kids of his rich neighbors. He was up early; he loved being up in the early morning hours where he could enjoy the calm of the mornings. Today, he got more of a show than anything. At 33 he was not your typical guy. He was fit, he prided himself on that. He was also very much into expression. He had more than one tattoo down his body that represented something special to him. He liked to enjoy life, but more importantly, he loved creating new things. He took another sip of his coffee and ran a hand through his black hair. He would have to make his presence known soon before the show took a wrong turn and ruined his morning. He delicately pushed the coffee mug off the table on his deck and it clanked down the steps startling the strangers and he smiled as they gathered up their things and hurried off the grass.
To be young again, he thought and then shook his head. What the hell? He wasn’t that old yet. He still had plenty of time to get it together and settle down. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his fair share of women, he did. In fact, there were days when it was too much. He was fairly well known in the city of Baltimore and everywhere he went there was either someone pitching an idea or a design, or there was a woman throwing herself at him. The chase was gone and it wasn’t fun anymore. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked back out over the grass that stretched to a tree line. The real problem was meeting someone who was genuine. He had created one small painting that put him in the spotlight, and from there he hit the big time. His art was found on everything from shoes, to cars, even hanging in some people’s ho
mes. He had refused to sell the rights to his art over, and he had reaped the benefits since. He was grateful every day for it. It wasn’t often someone could do the right thing at the right time and do what they love for the rest of their lives. Even now his hands were smudged with the paint from the projects he had been commissioned to do. It brought him to life and gave him a sense of satisfaction. Life was good.
He turned to head back inside the house, still smiling about the teenagers. His house was one of the few things he had spent money on. He had spent his life living in the parts of town that most people avoided. His father ran out on his mother during his early years. He didn’t even remember him. Now he could take care of her. The mansion was in an upscale neighborhood. It boasted three and a half levels complete with 6 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. The top level of the house was made up of a huge master bedroom and bathroom and a balcony. The lower levels held the kitchen and living areas. On the bottom floor he housed the staff on one side. Truth be told they were more like family, there were two maids and one butler, who did a little bit of everything. He cared about each and every one of them, and made sure they knew it. His mother’s rooms were on the adjacent side. He had tried to give her more, but she didn’t want to deal with the stairs. He took a few strides to his bathroom and stripped down to shower before his meeting this morning. He was being asked to work on a very important piece of art for one of the buildings in Washington, D.C. It was a big deal just to be invited to discuss it. He would have to look the part. He would have to wait until he arrived to get dressed as to not mess up the suit. If he was trying to look sharp, he wanted it to be perfect.
*****
Today of all days would be the one where she would hit the mother lode of all traffic. It wasn’t fair, she hated coming into the city and this was why. She rested her head on the headrest for a moment, waiting. Finally things broke free and she moved forward. As she was about to get over to take the exit she saw the car before it hit her. Fortunately, the car swerved but not before it clipped her front bumper and ripped it off her car. She sat there stunned for a moment before she felt the anger rise up in her and she threw open her door to get out and face the idiot that hit her car. She saw a figure by the hood and before she even looked she started her tirade.
