Everything You Need Read Free Page A

elbow, and then
released the hold. Hazel couldn’t be sure if he touched her like
that on purpose, but her body responded as if he had. An old
familiar tingle spread from her ears to her core. When was the last
time a man had touched her with such tenderness?
    He put his hand out. “Brice Creed.”
    She frowned at the outstretched limb. Borderline
personality with some manners, at least. With reluctance Hazel took
the hand. “Hazel Garvey.”
    A smile pulled at his lips. “I’m single, free of
disease, and after the two days I’ve just had, a glass of expensive
wine with a pretty woman will definitely make up for it.”
    “Good line.” Her criticism only made the smile
widen.
    Hazel eyed him again, but own their own accord went
to the hairline on his chest. She followed the line down until it
disappeared beneath the tool belt. A physical paradise lay there.
She knew it.
    “Ok,” Hazel conceded. “I’ll see you at eight. At the
bar.”
    “I can pick you up.”
    She tore her gaze from the disappearing hair. “No,
I’d rather meet you there.”
    It’d discourage her from going home with him. She
nodded to him and turned before her eyes could return to staring at
his crotch.
    *****
    Sweat dampened Brice’s palm as he ran a hand over his
face. Hazel Garvey dropped on his doorstep and he’d almost gotten
rid of her. Given the past two days, he deserved a little divine
intervention. Frank Sinatra started singing again. If he hadn’t
paid so much for the phone, he’d have tossed it into the ocean,
sparkling like sapphires beside him.
    He hadn’t answered the phone since getting fired, but
none of that mattered. His big plan had rotted planks on the porch,
shingles deteriorated by time and the sea-salt air. The big plan
also had paint chips older than his grandparents, full of lead and
only God knew what.
    Most of the renovations were cosmetic, but just as
time consuming. He’d considered only for a moment selling it as a
fixer-upper, but he needed at least $150,000 more than what he had.
More sweat beaded on his forehead.
    He squinted to see Hazel’s silhouette more clearly.
She’d make his big plan possible. The photo in the magazine had
made her seem larger than life, much less approachable, a true ball
buster. Frank Sinatra started to sing again.
    It didn’t matter. He had to convince her to decorate
the house. He’d called the company and found out she was on
vacation. He didn’t want anyone else and that’s what he told her
PA, Charlotte. No one else could bring in the money Hazel would
just by having her name attached to the project. He had to convince
her before his family drove him insane.
    When Frank Sinatra went into his fifth rendition of
“Luck be a Lady,” Brice pulled the phone out of his pocket and
answered it. “Hi, Pops.”
    “You don’t have reception out there on the island
with that fancy phone of yours?”
    How Pops knew his location Brice didn’t know. “It’s
sketchy. How’re you doing? How’s Mom?”
    Brice glanced once more down the beach to Hazel’s
fading silhouette, and turned his attention to the
conversation.
    “You’d know if you called more often. She’s ailing
and she wants to see you.”
    Brice had seen both his parents five days ago. His
mother had been racing his nieces and nephews on the front lawn,
and she’d been winning.
    “I’ll be there on Sunday for Maria’s birthday.”
    There was silence on the other end. Then his father
spoke again, “Why’d you make Joe fire you? He’s a family friend. Is
your life’s intent to make me look bad?”
    Brice sighed. “It’s not about you, Pops. And you
don’t even work with Joe anymore for the same reasons I made the
comment that got me fired. I can do his job blind-folded. The man
is disorganized. Cheap and greedy. Money comes before quality.”
    By now Pops had the minute details of his life for
the past five days. There wasn’t any point to lying about what had
initiated the layoff. In moments like