A Lover's Dream Read Free

Thousands , that is,” she clarified with two winks. “They also build homes and own the property. In fact, they own several upscale communities throughout Washington State, California, and the Midwest.” County shrugged and perused the advertisement again. “I admit that I was at first interested in finding out about an investment. I mentioned it to Sam and we discussed the group. Let me tell you,” she said, fixing Michaela with a stern look, “by the end of that discussion, I’d forgotten about investing.”
    Again, Mick shrugged.
    County smiled. “The Ramseys are African-American,” she shared.
    Mick’s eyes trailed to the advertisement. “Never heard of ’em,” she retorted, though she was subtlety intrigued.
    County nodded and began to stroll back toward the house, grinning when Mick fell in step next to her. “They’re out of Seattle, Washington, and they’ve become giants in the real estate business. Silent giants. Your cup of tea,” she said, slanting a glance toward Mick.
    It was true, Michaela admitted silently. She had made a household name for herself following her debut release, which chronicled the rise, fall, and recreation of the Shelanon family of Medora, North Dakota. The Shelanons were relatively unknown in much of the country, as well as in the black community, Mick brought the phenomenal African-American clan into the public eye. The family had staked a claim and made their fortune in a state most African-Americans never believed they’d set foot in. The book was a smash, and following that, Michaela had obtained unimagined popularity. As a result, every family worth having their history recorded wanted Mick to record it.
    True, she had her share of well-known families who wanted to tell their stories. Michaela, however, was more interested in digging out the stories of those who didn’t make the who’s who lists regularly. She gravitated more toward those families who’d obtained real success while managing to remain out of the spotlight. These were the people Mick wanted to research, and they practically clamored for the opportunity to talk with her. Of course, this wasn’t surprising. Michaela Sellars was known for her ability to coax the choicest bits of information from her subjects. Her unsettling yet entrancing amber gaze drew people in to such an extent they recited their life’s history without ever realizing they were being interviewed. Still, in spite of her curvaceous figure, flawless dark chocolate skin, captivating eyes, and the unruly halo of thick midnight curls, Mick had never considered herself a drop-dead beauty. She felt she was too short, too curvy. Her attributes oftentimes had her waiting too long for a man to tear his eyes away from her chest. She thought her nose was too small, as its size only emphasized the fullness of her mouth. Her completely sensual appearance encased a completely intellectual personality.
    When it came to her work, she attacked it in a doggish fashion. And she attacked her play in the same manner. She was a woman who enjoyed her success, due in no small part to her upbringing. She’d lived a rough life as a foster child, but managed to secure a good education and made the most of it. Michaela was thefirst to point out that she led a good life. She had every material possession a woman could wish for. She had everything except what she wanted most: a family of her own and all the love that accompanied it.
    â€œSo anyway, I sent a proposal to the Ramsey Group’s administrative director and asked for the story,” County rambled on.
    Mick’s face reflected stunned amazement, but she knew it would’ve been unreasonable to expect anything less from her best friend. Contessa Warren had earned her nickname, the Count, more for being take charge in business than because it was an apt shortening of her first name. County’s motto was: if they