Ella invites Carrie to tea.
Ella: Carrie, good afternoon. (Ella pours) You take milk and two sugars, is that right?
Carrie: Thank you for inviting me. Yes, that’s perfect.
Ella hands Carrie a cup: I just wanted to check up on you and see how matters are progressing.
Carrie: You mean has the sex drought ended?
Ella coughs: Well, I had been referring to broader topics, but we can start there. Have you and Trent finally decided to fully commit to your relationship?
Carrie: I warned him the moment I return from the west coast that I intend to jump his bones, even if he objects—
Ella: Why on earth would he object?
Carrie: He thought jumping in the deep end is why his relationships have never worked before. However, I think his choice of women was the problem, and secondly, I don’t think we jumped anywhere. We’ve taken two years to get to this moment.
Ella: Was there any other reason why you are insisting on having conjugal relations the moment you get back?
Carrie: Other than growing tired of my vibrating rabbit? Yes. We’ve both had bouts of jealousy, and I blame them on us abstaining. He’s worried someone will scratch my itch and I’m worried that Coco will do the same with him.
Ella: She does look rather mercenary, but I thought he hated her.
Carrie: He keeps telling me he does, but my mind keeps going back to the moment I saw him kissing her in his penthouse. I’ve no idea what a ‘I hate you kiss’ might look like, but what I saw…thought I saw…had nothing to do with hate or repulsion. I know he loves me,..he calls me every night and tells me does, and he’s never said those words to any other woman.
Ella: And how do you know that?
Carrie: He told me…after he confessed his love for me. I’m the first woman he’s ever loved.
Ella: I see. So you believe his words of love, yet you don’t trust him with Coco…
Carrie: I know I’m being irrational, but I’m certain she’s after him. It’s why she had me ‘promoted’ to change specialist. She wants to get me out of the way…
Ella: And who is he jealous of?
Carrie: Any guy I speak to. For example, he wants to fire Jack, our only working systems person.
Ella’s brow furrows: He looks as if he needs a valet.
Carrie: I agree. Jack is much cuter than his picture, but never tell Trent I said that.
Ella: My lips are sealed. Who else is he worried about?
Ella: Ah yes, Liza fans herself upon sight of him. What do you think of the fellow?
Carrie: He’s a fabulous instructor. But his wandering hands and inappropriate comments! I want to tell him to stop, but I fear he’ll throw me out the classroom, and I’m learning so much.
Ella: Just don’t call the police on him. Liza is crazy about the fellow and might write another book that makes your Worst Week Ever look like Fun times in NYC in comparison.
Carrie: I won’t. Honestly, I don’t think he realizes how annoying he is…and I appear to be the only one who doesn’t like him, all the other women he touches light up like Christmas trees when he’s nearby.
Ella: Liza certainly does. So what’s next from here?
Carrie: You mean once I jump Trent’s bones and get the company turned around? *Carrie frowns* I’m a little worried about where matters are going. Do you know what the last book is called?
Ella: Yes, I believe it’s called Coming to Reason.
Carrie: Why would she name it that unless for some reason she doesn’t think I’m being rational now?
Ella: Excellent question. Well, here’s my advice on the matter. Don’t worry about the future. Get through your current problems, and knowing Liza, you’ll have several. And when you reach a sweet moment at the end, take time to enjoy it. Life is precarious for us all. So don’t rush forward to the next book. Enjoy your Christmas without Liza lobbing troubles your way.
I believe she’ll be torturing another charming young woman over the holidays.
Carrie Hanson is in love with a different species: Trent, a pampered, uber-rich socialite who’s also her boss. Everyone keeps telling her it’s a train wreck looking to happen, but her heart wants what it wants. So despite the billion and one reasons not to, Carrie commits to this inter-species relationship. But while she’s off being trained for her new job responsibilities, a beautiful ex fiancée is working hard to get Trent back and Carrie fired.
Carrie Hanson couldn’t believe it. Her four year sex-drought was about to end. She shivered in anticipation until a sinking dread over came her. What if I’ve forgotten what to do?
Please God, let this be like riding a bike.
Trent pulled back from their kiss and studied her, his brow furrowed. “Are you cold?” He reached across her bed and tugged the edge of the comforter over her, tucking the fabric beneath her body so she became a human corndog.
She wiggled out of captivity and scooted across the bed, closer to him. “I’m fine. I’m just happy our horrible week is over and we can start anew. This time not as boss and an employee, but best friends who love each other.”
Trent gathered her to his chest and kissed her. She opened her mouth and met his tongue with her own, giving as good as she got. His soft groan inspired her to do more.
She unbuttoned the waistband of his suit pants and slipped her hand beneath his boxers, determined to move matters along and end her drought forever. He broke their kiss and his hands captured hers.
He didn’t want her?
She turned away, mortified with shame…and confused. Why the hell had he kissed so provocatively if he didn’t want to make love? She tucked her head, so he wouldn’t read all the emotions bouncing around inside her, but he forced her chin upward, his blue eyes somber and concerned.
“Carrie, I have screwed up every relationship I’ve ever been in. I think part of the problem is I gravitated toward glamour girls with no brains and or personality, which I would have discovered, if I had taken a moment to talk to them first.”
Worst excuse ever! “We’ve known each other for two years, in which time I’ve certainly established I’m not a glamour girl.”
Trent chuckled and nodded.
Her eyes narrowed and she growled, “You don’t have to be so quick to agree.”
“But you aren’t. You’re not an image of beauty, you’re the real thing. While I have no complaints about your small, perfect body, what makes you special comes from inside. When you smile I feel like I’m standing before an angel of joy.”
She saw where his thoughts headed. He didn’t want to make love to an angel. She recalled Elvis Presley did something this crazy. He refused to touch his wife after she bore him a child because he couldn’t make love to a mother.
She pulled her hand away and gripped his shirt as she stared sternly into his eyes. “Do not go Elvis Presley on me. I am not an angel. I’m a small, catastrophe-prone woman who wants to make love to you.”
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.
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