from Pain to Pleasure (Gainesville Book 1)
Page 41
The community center’s biggest contributor, Freya’s father, had walked away from it over two years earlier. If she somehow pulled this deal off, Freya still had to make up the funds he’d provided previously. She’d been finding money piecemeal over the years, but she’d have to make up the deficit on an ongoing basis after the concert.
So while she might have put out an inferno by organizing the concert, she was still fighting dozens of little fires just to keep the place going. But every time she walked in and saw what it was capable of, she knew it was a worthy fight. If she could find a good-paying job, she could divert some of her paychecks to the center. However, under the terms of her current arrangement with her “loving” father, that just wasn’t possible. She hated being on his string, and she’d promised herself that one day she would be able to cut it.
And then maybe shove the scissors into his black heart, she thought before she could stop herself. She refused to be like her father, and part of that meant just getting away from him cleanly. Revenge was for those that could afford to pay its price. Her mother, and probably her siblings, too, would pay for her if she took that route. She shook her head to get it out of the dark place it had sunk into.
She decided that she needed to do something nice to bring her out of her funk, or it would follow her back to the center and spread like wildfire when the kids sensed it. Knowing she couldn’t eat anymore, now that she had let her anger ruin her appetite, Freya prepared to leave. She motioned for Flo, her waitress, to meet her at the till, and Freya hoped her usual trick would work to dispel her negative mood.
“Flo, can you get the bill for the couple sitting behind me, too?” Freya asked the gregarious waitress, who was already sporting a knowing smile.
“Let me guess—anonymously, as usual?” Flo asked, breaking into an even bigger smile and winking at the good-hearted girl in front of her.
“It wouldn’t be much of anything any other way. By the way, make sure you add something on for dessert. It’s their anniversary.” Rummaging in her black hole of a purse for her wallet, Freya missed the glint of approval in the older woman’s eyes.
Flo wasn’t surprised by Freya finding someone to buy dinner for; every time she came in, she found a person and a reason. Freya might have come from the “right” side of the tracks, but in the five years she’d been coming into Marco’s, she never showed it in her manner. The fearful young girl Freya had been had turned into a compassionate woman. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and on her, it was a good look, Flo thought.
Freya was always friendly and willing to lend a hand. No chore was too big or dirty for her to dig into, if it helped one of the members of her mother’s former community. Tarra, Freya’s mother, had only sent money back to the neighborhood out of guilt after she married a one-hit-wonder musician.
There had been a betting pool started over how long Freya would last working in her mother’s old realm. Freya had outlasted all the estimates, and then when she found out about the pool, stated that she’d won it and demanded the money. That act had caused a ruckus until it became known what she did with the money.
People who needed it back unexpectedly found their money returned to them in unmarked envelopes. Others found what they needed most besides money sitting on their doorsteps. Of course, no one could prove it was Freya, as she also made a donation to the community center in the amount of the pot. Freya was sneaky when she needed to be.
“Darn it!” Freya suddenly exclaimed, as she looked through her wallet. “Do you think Jean can give me a rain check? I know he’s a terrier about paying, but it seems my sis needed to go shopping again.”
“Your sister needs a good whupping. I can ask, but you know it depends on how he and Harriet are doing. I haven’t heard a shout from the office all day, so we might be good,” Flo responded.
Freya stifled her laugh as she watched Flo sashay into the back to speak with Jean, the owner. You would think with the name of the diner being Marco’s, it would easy to guess the owner’s name, but Jean and his wife Harriet weren’t ones to spend money on things like new signs. So they left the name when they bought the place and promised each other they would change it when the sign stopped working, which had happened about 10 years earlier.
After she heard a slamming door, and then a rumbling Flo, Freya had an inkling as to how the rest of her evening was about to go: not well. It seemed about right for her day, which had started bright and early with her sister Eva crying on her shoulder about how mean their parents were to her.
How could Eva be expected to walk around town with last month’s purse? It would shame her on the boutique circuit for sure; that was the gist of Eva’s argument, which was made at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. Eva had been just getting in from a night out with her friends, who were more like parasites, by Freya’s estimate.
“Scrooge says if you can’t pay, then I got to report ya. I’m sorry, chicky. I’m going to walk slowly over to the phone, and I bet by the time the police decide to stop in here, you’ll have been back in to pay. You know they take a good few hours, at least around this time, for something like this. Plus, I think Joe is on tonight, so you won’t have to worry about Calvin calling in your plates like he did last time.” Flo looked sadly at the deflated woman in front of her, wishing she’d taken a frying pan into the office with her to to knock some sense into that old troglodyte Jean.
Freya said, “One day, I’ll remember to check my wallet before I order. Especially after Eva decides she needs my advice about something that can be bought. I feel so bad about the couple, though. Can you get me their info, so I can do something else later?” Freya’s mind was already mapping out the fastest way home and back, hoping that Flo letting her go wouldn’t cause trouble for her.
“Here, use this,” a husky and somehow familiar voice said. It came from behind Freya and startled her.
An arm extended a shiny black card, highlighted in distinctive gold, toward Flo. The arm came from directly behind Freya, along with the deep voice. The man came close enough to Freya’s back that for her to turn fully around would cause some embarrassing rubbing. So she turned her head a little to try and see who was helping her out. While his face seemed to be out of her view, his arm, shoulder and part of his chest were not, and what she could see and hear of him wasn’t helping her to stay as collected as she would like.
His bare forearm had a stylized tattoo running up its length, and that seemed to ring some foggy bell for Freya. Since the tattoo ended under the cuff of a black T-shirt, no other visual clues were evident from her position, and Freya was at a loss.
“For both tickets, hon?” Flo asked.
“For whatever the lady wishes.” The teasing response moved over her as both the man’s arms came up to the counter around Freya, effectively boxing her in.
A slight scent, one that screamed “sinful male,” seemed to envelop her, and why it made her feel safe was a mystery to Freya. She was starting to think that she was going to have to do something soon before a scene erupted in the restaurant. Freya wasn’t her sister, and unlike Eva, Freya hated being noticed. She had long before learned that the background was where she was made to be, not the spotlight.
“Do I know you?” Freya whispered so Flo wouldn’t catch what she said. Freya loved Flo, but she knew Flo was a font of gossip on this side of town.
A stranger paying for not only Freya’s meal, but those of the people she’d wanted to treat, would definitely be gossip-worthy. Freya wouldn’t be able to dine here for at least a month once that story got around, not to mention the difficulties it would cause her at the center. Anything that looked interesting about Freya would be twisted until it was so far from the truth, it might as well be a fairy tale. It wasn’t that people wouldn’t be on her side, but they’d still talk and get it all wrong.
Once again, a velvety chuckle was heard from the man behind her as he leaned in to catch her scent. She watched as Flo totaled up three tickets and ran the credit card through the
ir antique machine. You could hear its electronic pinging. Freya waited, desperate to see who had made her libido wake up for the first time in years.
“I added a nice tip on while I was at it,” Flo stated, winking at Freya as she walked back with the credit slip for the unknown man to sign.
Flo was a realist, and any man who would pay for more than his own party’s meal wasn’t going to get upset about her adding a nice 20% to the total bills. If she knew her men—and she did—she wouldn’t be surprised if she found another tip in cash sitting on his table, if Freya managed not to blow him off.
Not that she would set the sweet girl up just for money. Freya needed what Flo sensed in the tall, dark man—someone that would fight alongside Freya for her dreams. Flo, under her jaded exterior, knew that going through life alone was not really living.
“No problem,” the low voice said before it whispered into Freya’s ear, “We have some mutual interests.”
Chase kept the intriguing young woman between his arms while he signed the receipt. His signature was so scribbled, it was no help to Freya. He made a mental note to have his brother leave a cash tip, too. He knew what part of town he was in, and while he wouldn’t insult a working woman with charity, he would make sure she was compensated for all the information she’d shared with him.
He hadn’t been sure if letting his best friend’s brother call in a favor for the charity concert had been a good idea. Now he was glad he had agreed to at least give it a look over.
That visit was what had brought Chase, his brother and their friend to this little diner. They wanted to make sure that the show was for a good cause and not just an ego trip for Kai Saphra’s little sister. After some reconnaissance, Chase and his group had collectively decided that the community center was worthy. It was what it purported to be: a place to harbor those who would have been otherwise lost to the cold streets. They were still unsure about what to do about the second part of the request—to let an unknown sing with them.
All those thoughts had been moved to the back burner once Chase saw this woman walk by his table. Intrigued, he’d watched her until she’d disappeared into a back booth. The distracted look on her face made it seem like the weight of the world itself was on her shoulders, but she was determined to carry it with dignity.
Her simply styled blond hair had to be natural, and it contained every shade of blond, from golden fire to a soft shade between gold and brown. Even in the fluorescent lights of the diner, her hair had gleamed, seeming to beg for his touch. A simple band kept it out of her face, showing she had little concern for extravagant primping. It was as if she didn’t have the time, or care, to wrestle the golden waves into anything more structured.
Her eyes, when she’d quickly scanned for an open booth, had seemed to glow with an earthy green. He had been disappointed when she’d chosen a booth angled away from him. Chase had the feeling that he had just lost something he hadn’t ever known he was missing. Chase figured this woman had a 50-50 chance of screwing him up or showing him Shangri-La.
Flo, sensing his interest in Freya, stopped gossiping about the neighborhood and gave him a brief rundown on Freya. Finding out Freya was his friend Kai’s younger sister, Chase had almost rejoiced about letting an amateur sing with him, until he realized the first name of the sister was wrong.
Chase was going to have a heck of a time getting to Freya through Kai. When he saw her have a problem at the counter, that let Chase meet her without looking like a stalker.
“You know, it helps to face someone so they can recognize you later by more than smell and tattoos.” Freya broke into his musings with a slightly perturbed tone, causing a smile to break out onto Chase’s face.
Moving back, he waited for her reaction to who he was. He saw his brother and friend mentally cross their fingers that she would react in a positive way. Watching her turn, he saw her beautiful green eyes widen as she recognized him. Part of him hoped that she would ask who he was instead of screaming out both his and his brother’s names. as if they were one and the same person, as so many fans and paparazzi did. Though Chase loved his brother, looking just like him could be a pain. He laughed in his mind, reminding himself that their similarity did let him mess with his more staid brother.
Freya said, “Chase Beltrán. Kai didn’t say you and Pride would be in town today. Did I miss something? I’m so sorry if I did. Please, let me make—” Freya went from grateful to desperate once she caught sight of who had helped her out.
She was cut off by Chase placing his finger on her lips. He couldn’t resist touching her. Freya looked at him, trying to figure out just what was needed from her to keep Chase and his group happy and in town.
Chase needed some time himself to remember why he didn’t have to go into his usual all-out pursuit, as he usually did when a woman caught his interest. While he could use her obvious desperation to force her to spend time with him, it wouldn’t help him gain anything but short-term satisfaction, and for some reason, that seemed unappealing to him this time.
He cautioned himself to go easy and think long-term; it was the same part of him that had once encouraged him to hole up in the dank basement of the apartment building he and his band mates had grown up in and work on their music every spare second. Some instinct was telling him that a quick flirtation might not be enough this time.
To top that off, her brother Kai was best friends with Chase’s best friend’s older brother. It was a convoluted connection, but one that mattered to his moral code, not to mention the business he could be messing up by chasing the opportunity in front of him.
Chase hoped that Freya knowing who he was meant she was feeling the same urge he was. For their part, his brother and friend, Chris and Trent, worried that maybe the request from Kai Saphra wasn’t as benign as they had thought; that Kai had baited the hook with something more than a contract to play.
Chris also knew that his brother needed to find a challenge. Freya could be more than Chase could handle. This woman was not some stranger or groupie he could pick up, shower with attention, and then drop when her newness wore off. She was Kai’s little sister, and Kai ran what was soon to be Pride’s label.
Kai wasn’t just an overprotective brother; he was an overprotective brother who would not think twice about retaliating if Chase played fast and loose with one of his sisters. And if that weren’t enough, this sister was the responsible sister who Kai put on a pedestal—a pedestal ringed with barbed wire.
What stunned Trent was that a regular person could know the difference between the twins who fronted Pride. Most people assumed Chase and Chris were interchangeable, only to learn too late that while they might look the same, they were as different as day and night. When the boys were in a mischievous mood, even Trent could have trouble distinguishing them, usually because they would wear long sleeves and hats and refuse to speak until Trent figured out by himself who was who.
Yet, here was this stranger acknowledging Chase as though she were a childhood friend of his. She was either a closet stalker, or she was much more hands-on about the charity event than they had been led to believe.
Freya watched Chris and Trent watch her, and she got nervous. Her father would kill her if she lost the stars of the charity concert. The interest of the media would vanish if they dropped out. The other acts on the bill were mostly local celebrities, and they were not like the internationally known and loved band in front of her. It would be just her sort of luck that she were somehow be the reason things fell apart. Her history seemed to consist of accidentally destroying everything she loved.
She felt a need to cry as the two other men joined her and Chase. Keeping her head down as they all left together, she wondered if they just wanted to make sure she didn’t cause a scene in the diner when they told her that the community center wasn’t worth their time.
She knew it had been a long shot when Kai offered to call to an old college roommate to have him ask Chase to bring his band here. Freya just wished he
not offered in front of their father.
The group stopped by a large black SUV, and she figured they wanted to make a fast getaway once they broke the news. Who wants to listen to a hysterical woman beg? Freya knew begging was exactly what she would do when they told her they had made a mistake in agreeing to appear.
Gulping down the lump in her throat, she straightened her spine and decided she wasn’t going down without a fight.
Continued in:
Ghost of a Singer
WARNING: This book is Adult in nature.
Sneak Peek: Triple Threat
by Bella Jeanisse
Chapter One
It was Christmas break, and my best friend Chad and I had been home for a few days already. We were both seniors at Southwest New Jersey University, which was just outside our hometown. I loved going to the same school as him, but I missed living right next door to him more than I thought I would.
I was still in bed and naked under the blanket. I wasn’t a morning person, so I never got right up when my alarm went off. It was even more difficult on cold winter mornings.
I sighed, remembering the awesome dream I’d had right before awakening. Chad and another guy from school were in my bed with me. I often dreamed of them both separately, but they’d never been together with me before. They were both in my pussy at the same time and had me screaming in ecstasy for what seemed like hours. I wondered if I would ever be with either of them, let alone both, that way and if it would be that good.
I shook the dream away and turned onto my belly. I gazed out the window next to my bed. I could see Chad’s bedroom in the house next door, but not Chad. I loved watching him in his room. I had yet to see him naked, but was sure one day I would.