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Just A Kiss
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Asher Kyle is a criminal defense attorney who never takes no for an answer.
Andrea Stikes is a no-nonsense kind of woman who works two jobs to help take care of her mother.
It was supposed to be one hot night with no future.
She wants to forget it—leave it in the past—but he has other plans.
When Asher finds out that she is in financial trouble, he can’t help but want to save her. He’s been in love with her for two years now, and he’s tired of waiting.
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Looking over the paperwork I received in the mail today makes my chest tighten with worry.
Dear Miss Stikes,
We have not heard back from you regarding your mother’s, Eleanor Stikes, outstanding bill …
I skim over most of it until I get to a word that makes me pause and my head spin. Forced discharge.
Can they do that? Can someone who needs around-the-clock care be kicked out of a nursing home?
No! They can’t. They wouldn’t. Would they?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I fold up the letter, then pull out my phone to read the incoming text.
I won’t be able to make it this weekend.
Letting out a long breath, I see it’s my brother, the only other person who can help me out with our mother and her bills. My fingers run over the keys as I type back.
You need to be here!
I tap my foot on the floor when I see he’s read the message and the three dots begin to dance around, indicating he’s typing. My phone vibrates in my hand.
Lynn has something this weekend. We’ll come next weekend.
I sniff to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He’s clearly blowing me off. My brother can be such a dick, but I’m not sure why I’m so surprised. He never comes to see our mother. Or me, for that matter. It’s a miracle he’s even taking the time to respond to me right now. We’ve never been close since he chose to live with our father when our parents split so long ago. He moved to California to live with him while I stayed here in Chicago with Mom. And don’t even get me started on Lynn, his wife. She hates me, but the feeling is mutual. She’s an upscale bitch who looks down her nose at me.
She’s dying, Jamie. Don’t you wanna say goodbye to her? You already missed Christmas. Who knows how much longer she has.
It’s true. Who knows how much longer she has once they kick her out. What will I do? I can’t quit both of my jobs to take care of her. And I can’t afford to put her in another home.
I bite my bottom lip when I see the dots begin to bounce around, but then they stop. They begin again before stopping. “Fucking respond,” I growl out loud. But this time, they don’t return. I’ve pissed him off, and now he’ll use that as an excuse not to come. I shove my phone into my back pocket to keep from messaging him anymore along with my folded letter. He has a way of getting under my skin and ruining my day. And I don’t have time for that right now.
“Who were you talking to?” Duke asks.
“No one,” I answer with a sigh and walk over to the sink. Trying to keep my mind off what I’m going to do about my mother, I begin to wash glasses. The letter said I had thirty days, and it’s dated ten days ago. I need more time.
Jamie could help me, but he doesn’t care, so he won’t. He won’t even come to see us. Not that our mother would know the difference. I visit her several times a week, and she doesn’t even know it’s me. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just turned my back on her. It’s obvious we don’t share the same values.
The smell of cigarettes hits me before the cloud of smoke. I look up at the guy sitting at the bar as he blows another smoke ring out while he openly stares at the woman sitting next to him. Her big and perfectly round fake breasts are on full display in a low-cut gold top with shoestrings holding the thin fabric together on the sides. I’m pretty sure she’s a hooker. They come in here often. Not like I judge. Though I do feel they’d make more money if they went somewhere else or maybe dressed a little nicer.
The Horseshoe is known for nothing good, but here I am for another night. It’s my second job. I hate this place, but every dollar counts. Well, I thought it did, but obviously, it’s not enough.
“Hey, hottie,” a guy behind me calls out.
I ignore him. I ignore most of them. That’s probably why I don’t make much money here. If you want to survive off tips, then you need to play the part of a seductive woman. I am not.
Mom needs the money! She’s gonna get kicked out of the nursing home, and you can’t take care of her alone.
He pounds his hand on the bar. “Hey. I’m talking to you.”
Resolved to do my best for my mother, I plaster on a smile and spin around, my hair whipping me in the face. “What can I get you?” I ask, leaning over the bar to allow what little tits I have to catch his brown eyes. Now I feel like the woman behind me who is allowing her date to drool over her for money. Guess we’re not that different after all.