Donut Be Easy
Page 1
Donut Be Easy
A Standalone Romantic Comedy
Kristen Hope Mazzola
Contents
Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
Did you enjoy what you just read?
Need more sweet stories that donut contain carbs?
Stupid Hearts
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
About the Author
All books by Kristen Hope Mazzola
Note From the Author
Acknowledgments
Donut Tease Me
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Donut Leave Me
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Copyright
Donut Be Easy
Copyright © 2018 Kristen Hope Mazzola
Published by Kristen Hope Mazzola
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: Kristen Hope Mazzola 2018
Cover Design: Kristen Hope Mazzola
Formatting by: Kristen Hope Mazzola
Cover Model: Mikey Lee: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMikeyLee/
Photographer: Bruiser Designs: https://www.bruiserdesigns.com
Editing by:
C. Marie: editingbycmarie@gmail.com
Created with Vellum
Introduction
Dear Reader,
June 1st is National Donut Day. To celebrate this amazing dessert, a baker’s dozen of authors have come together to create thirteen new stories that are sugar-free and donut contain carbs!
Each story is a complete standalone. They vary in theme and heat levels.
We hope you enjoy the donut day collaboration and that we bring you a little something to help satisfy your sweet tooth.
Please consider reviewing to help your authors.
Enjoy!
With love and sprinkles,
Donut Day Authors
Dedication
To everyone in this crazy dating world, fighting through the catfish of the sea with dating apps and terrible pickup lines.
This one is for you.
Prologue
Jack
“Hey, man. Where’s Skye?” Noah asked under his breath.
Checking my watch again, I shrugged. “You know how she is, probably still getting her hair done or some shit like that.” Another lie successfully pulled out of my ass.
The truth of it was that I had no flipping clue where my wife actually was, and she was embarrassingly late. It was getting to the point that I didn’t know if I was more worried or mad at her selfishness.
I ambled over to the drink cart and looked around at all of my friends who had shown up to help me celebrate the big four-zero. Skye had planned the whole damn thing, insisting that I needed to lighten up because you only turn forty once. All I wanted was to have a low-key night with a fifth of Jack Daniels to help me forget that my youth was a thing of the past, and now there I was making excuses for why my wife wasn’t at my own fucking party.
Fucking bullshit.
Me: Babe, where the hell are you?
I sent off my fourth text to her. Still no response.
We ate the catered hors d’oeuvres, cut the stupid cake that had my scruffy smiling face screen-printed on it, they all sang happy birthday off key—and Skye was still nowhere to be found.
The party dwindled, though everyone tried to stay as late as they could to get the scoop on where Skye really was. It had turned into almost a game for most of the guests. They even started making bets on how long it was going to take her to show up and where she had actually been all night. I couldn’t blame them. If it hadn’t been happening to me, I would have been laughing and speculating right along with them.
Noah and Izzy were the last ones left, helping me clean up, and pissed didn’t even begin to describe the rage I was feeling at that point.
“I hope she’s all right,” Izzy muttered to Noah, her husband and my best friend, as she started to clean off the dining room table.
Pouring myself three fingers of single molt scotch, I slumped onto the couch with a forced sigh. “Don’t even worry about that shit. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“It’s no bother, Jack. Besides, you shouldn’t have to clean up from your own party.” Izzy was a sweetheart, and the three of us had known each other since we were in elementary school. Noah and Izzy were the closest thing I had to family, and in that moment, I was thankful they were there.
Just as I was about to call my wife again, the front door slammed.
Skye stumbled in, ripping off her red-soled heels. “Fuck,” she exclaimed as she threw her purse onto the table in the foyer.
“Where have you been?” I asked, rushing to her side. The smell of liquor emanated from every pore of her tiny body as I caught her in my arms.
“I’m gone!” she yelled, her words slurring as she forcefully pushed me away.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I started to follower her as she stomped into our bedroom.
“It means I am leaving your sorry ass once and for all!” she shrilled, pulling her larger-than-life suitcase out of the closet.
“Skye, you need to explain to me what the heck is happening right now. Why are you doing this? Is there someone else?” I couldn’t believe the words that were leaving my mouth.
Tossing her panties and bras in first, my wife nodded her head vigorously. “Brock and I are finally going to start our life together.”
“Brock? Your twenty-five-year-old man-child of a personal assistant?” My entire body burned red hot as rage started to replace my disbelief.
“He’s more of a man than you’ve ever been. He’s got charisma.” Skye started pulling all her clothes off their hangers.
“Charisma? What the fuck does that even mean?” I stood in the middle of our colossal master bedroom watching in horror as my life turned upside down in front of me.
“See! You don’t even know what I’m talking about! How do you expect me to stay with you when someone like him is interested in me? He can at least find my damn g-spot.” Skye was fucking laughing, and that was the worst part—she thought all of this was a damn joke.
“Fuck it. Go be with that roided-out, piece-of-shit college dropout! Once you walk out that door, you’re never coming back!” I opened the door for her.
“Good, because I don’t want to ever fucking come back to this shithole again.” Skye ambled over to the dresser, dragging her large bag behind her. Taking off her wedding ring, she set in on the dresser while smiling—such a kick in the damn teeth. Her smirk slapped me across the face. Silently, I followed as she triumphantly marched barefoot through the house.
As she reached the front door, Skye turned and
frowned at me. “I never loved you, anyway. This is for the best, Jack.”
“Get the fuck out of this house,” I responded.
Noah and Izzy stood frozen in the living room as she bent down, grabbed her stilettos, and tossed them into her enormous handbag.
“I’ll send you the address where I’m staying so you can send the rest of my things,” she muttered.
I didn’t say anything, just endured the bullshit in the middle of the room trying to not make my two best friends more uncomfortable than they must have already been.
To my horror, Skye opened the door and there was Brock, waiting for my wife like a damn puppy. It took everything in my power to not beat his punk ass, but really, what would have been the point? He grabbed her bag and Skye was out of my life. Just like that, she was really gone.
“Everything good, brother?” Noah called over to me. He knew it wasn’t, but he probably had no idea what else to say. I sure as shit was at a total loss for words.
Without even thinking, I rushed into the master bedroom. I ripped open the door to Skye’s closet to find every hanger bare, every drawer empty. I fell to the floor and screamed. It wasn’t a bad dream, and I hadn’t just hallucinated all that shit—it was real.
“Jack? What’s…” Izzy dropped to the carpeted floor with me, a stunned look taking over her normally bubbly smile.
“Oh, fuck it all to hell!” Noah exclaimed as he joined us. “Shit, man. What do we do?”
“What did I do?” I didn’t know what to say or even think. I didn’t want to force someone to stay with me if that wasn’t what she wanted, but the entire situation was flat-out cruel.
Standing, I ran my fingers through my short hair. Anger boiling up, I looked down at my two friends, who were frozen in place and staring up at me. “I’m changing the damn locks.”
Chapter 1
Just about a year later
Jack
Another day…
Another boring fucking day sitting in front of a computer, coding my life away.
I was good at my job, but there was nothing interesting or exciting about writing software for a jerk boss who didn’t give a rat’s ass about his employees. Paul Alfonsi was a money-hungry slave-driver that cared about his bank account and how good we all made him look for the board of directors, nothing else mattered.
As I stared out the window of the high-rise commercial building, gazing at the bustling city streets of downtown Chicago, a soft tap sounded on the thin glass of my office door.
“Come in,” I called, turning in my rolling chair to see the meek smile of the newest blonde in the office.
“Jack, a courier just dropped this off for you,” Tina muttered as she laid a manila envelope on my desk.
“Thank you.”
“I hope it’s what you have been waiting for,” she giggled.
“I have a feeling that it is.” I shot my assistant a kind smile before she waggled her hips out of my office and shut the door. She was a dime a dozen, the typical corporate sweet-butt my boss had been trying to nail against the copier ever since she started a few months back. Tina knew her looks were the only thing that had gotten her the job, and she used them to her advantage as often as she could.
I gripped the thick package in my hands as an elated smile spread like wildfire across my scruffy face. Mediation had been a long, drawn-out process, most of it consisting of Skye fighting for the house and anything else of value she could get her amoral hands on. It took a while and a lot of maneuvering on my lawyer’s part, but she got jack-shit from me when everything was said and done.
Finally, I had the divorce papers in hand. I ripped open the envelope like a kid on Christmas morning and signed next to each of the yellow arrows as fast as I could. It was the last step. I was fucking free, and I couldn’t have been happier.
Picking up the office phone, I called Noah.
“This is Noah,” he answered.
“It’s done. I just signed the divorce papers.”
“Heck yes! About damn time!” he hollered.
“Drinks to celebrate?”
“See you at Mountain Breath around seven?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Cheers, man!” Noah raised his Sazerac high in the air as he continued, “To breaking free of that worthless ball and chain. It’s only up from here.”
I laughed. “Thanks. I really can’t believe it is finally over.”
“Free at last!” Noah sang out. “Thank God almighty. You, my friend, are free at last!”
“Amen to that.” After taking a hefty swig from my old fashioned, I called over to the bartender, “Marty! It’s perfect, as always.”
Smiling through his gray whiskers, the older man nodded over to me. “Glad to hear it, Jack.”
As I set the short rocks glass on a coaster, I pointed up at the large black and white picture of The Hysterics that was framed behind the bar. “How’re the boys doing?”
Pride emanated as Marty’s chest puffed out. “They’re on a world tour right now. Talked to Mav the other night while they were in Edinburgh—sounds like they’re having the time of their lives. They even opened for Oasis in Loch Lomond a few days ago.”
“That’s incredible,” Noah chimed in.
Marty’s son was Maverick Steele, the bassist of The Hysterics. They were taking the rock industry by storm. Mountain Breath had basically become a shrine to them and was where they got their start. It felt like just yesterday I was meeting Skye for our first date, an open mic night in that very bar with Maverick stunning the audience with his acoustic rendition of “25 Or 6 To 4” that brought then entire joint to their feet.
Marty wandered down the bar to help a new customer as I turned to Noah. “Where’s Izzy tonight? I can’t remember the last time just the two of us hung out.”
He thumbed the straw in his drink as a huge grin lit up his face. “We weren’t going to tell anyone yet. It’s still a little bit early, but Izzy’s about six weeks pregnant. Besides, she thought it would be better if we just had some guy time.”
“Holy shit! Congrats, man!” I jumped off my barstool and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You can’t tell Izzy you know. She made me promise we would keep it a secret until we told our parents. You know how Lidia gets when she isn’t in the inner circle.”
Noah’s mother was one of the biggest busybodies to ever grace God’s green earth. I’d never forget in high school when she ranted on and on about Noah not telling her he was dating Izzy right away. I couldn’t blame him for trying to keep her wrath at bay by any means necessary.
“So, I shouldn’t send her a bouquet of congratulatory roses with a card calling her grandma just yet?” I teased.
“For the love of all things holy, please do not do that. You’d have Izzy’s hormonal ass to deal with, and that wouldn’t work out for either of us.”
“Touché.”
A few hours passed by quickly, fueled by multiple perfectly crafted cocktails. “Fuck that damn arm candy. How the fuck can someone like Skye really leave me for a piece of shit like that?”
Noah smacked his hand down on the bar. “It’s time for you to get back on the horse and spread some wild oats. I know you haven’t gotten any since that two-timing bitch stormed off.”
“Try forever before that—we hadn’t fucked in months. I should have known she was sleeping with someone else. She sure as shit never wanted to fuck me.”
“She’s a cunt, and you will find someone ten-times better and hotter.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” I admitted. I hadn’t dated in over a decade, and there was no social media and no dating apps the last time I was single. The game had changed and I had missed kickoff.
“Fuck if I know. A buddy of mine at work keeps talking about all the dates he’s been going on from dating sites. Maybe start there?”
“What ever happened to the good ol’ days when you just met people in bars?”
“It’s a digital
age, my friend.” Noah shoved up from his stool, announcing, “Gotta drain the snake.”
Right after Noah headed to the men’s room, an overly sloshed redhead sank into his seat. Her makeup was smudged all over her face and her teal blouse was wrinkle and hanging off one shoulder. Her eyes were half open as she awkwardly winked at me. “How’re you doing tonight, handsome?” she slurred in an annoyingly high-pitched voice.
Ask and you shall receive, but be careful what you fucking wish for.
I didn’t know what the heck to do. She was obviously way too intoxicated to flirt with, and I definitely didn’t want to be some drunk chick’s morning regret, but I didn’t want to be a dick to her either.
“Good, just out celebrating my divorce with my buddy. I’m Jack.” Introducing myself seemed like the polite thing to do.
“I’m Starla.” Her nails roughly raked over my arm. “You’re a tree I’d love to climb.”
I stifled a laugh at her awful pickup line.
“Oh, babe! Thank you so much for getting me another drink.” Before I knew what was going on, a gorgeous woman’s arm was around my neck as she leaned into my side. After pecking my bristle-coated cheek, she turned to the drunk girl, who was slumped over, listing on the bar as her head bobbed from side to side. “Thanks for keeping my man company while I was in the bathroom, sweets,” the gorgeous stranger cooed.