My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 59659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
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“Hello,” Suzette said, suddenly appearing at the end of the table. “What can I get you to drink, hon?”

“Water, please,” Carmela said. “But I know what I want to eat if you’re ready, Mel.”

“I’ll figure it out while you order,” I said, hurriedly picking up the menu. I scrolled down it for the usual suspect meals while she rattled off an impressively large order that ended in a cup of coffee and a sweet tea.

“And you?” Suzette asked.

“I’ll have the number four,” I said.

“Coming up,” Suzette said, disappearing again.

“As you were saying,” Carmela prompted, taking off her jacket and tossing it in the corner of the booth. I couldn’t help but notice her chest was enormous. Having a baby had apparently turned what was already a fairly large-chested woman into someone that looked like she could sing mezzo-soprano when the traveling opera came back into town.

“Right,” I said, shaking myself back into function. “Well, it turns out the board thought they had the authority to sell if they didn’t think I could properly take care of the business. So, they did. Some guy named Victor bought the shares and now thinks he owns the place.”

“Wait, Victor?” she asked. “Not Victor McLaren.”

“Yeah, that’s his name,” I said, pointing to her with the straw that I was unwrapping. “He came into the office this morning telling me how he didn’t want to step on my toes or whatever. All while clearly stepping on my toes.”

“Victor is one of Mark’s best friends,” Carmela said. “I heard he moved back to town and was making an investment, but I didn’t know in what. It’s what he does, investing. I just figured he was buying some business that was hitting the skids, so he could rehab it while he was in town.”

“While he’s in town?” I asked, hope rising in my chest despite my best efforts. “Has he said when he was going to leave?”

“No,” she said. “Not to my knowledge. All I know is Mark and Camden both are beyond ecstatic he’s back. They keep saying the band is back together. God help me if they start playing any sort of music.”

“That would be ugly,” I said.

“You’re telling me,” she laughed. “Anyway, if it’s Victor, maybe I can help,” she said. “I’ll talk to Camden and Mark tonight and see what they think about him buying the store. How serious he is and whatnot. And if they think he’s making an investment just to make an investment in general, maybe we can find a way for him to get out of it and get you your store back.”

“Oh, could you?” I asked. “That would be so helpful.”

“Of course,” she said. “Anything for a friend. Now, what’s on the number four?”

“I… don’t know,” I said. “I ordered it because I was flustered, and then I handed her my menu.”

“Shit,” she said. “I swear I eat constantly now, and all I’ve been thinking about all morning was coming here and ordering everything on the menu.”

“Well, you can have some of mine when it comes,” I said. “I don’t mind sharing.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, giggling. “Otherwise, this situation with Victor wouldn’t bug you so much.”

“Not the same,” I laughed. “Not the same.”

7

VICTOR

“That… can’t be right,” I muttered to myself.

I was sitting on the floor of the empty garage, surrounded by parts of what used to be my home gym, beginning to believe that Sarah had kept a few small, key pieces that kept things from being able to be held together.

I took the Phillips head screwdriver and put a couple pieces together, and after some mild cursing and frustration, I found a missing piece that could at least put my weight bench together properly. Once it was up, I pushed everything else out of the way, put together enough to do some chess presses, and decided to be okay with that being enough.

Lying down on the bench, I took an hour to just work up a sweat and make my muscles sore. It felt good to finally have the chance to do that. I hadn’t had a good workout since before I’d left Maryland. And frankly, it was starting to wear on me. Aside from jogging, I had barely exercised at all.

It wasn’t much of a sweat, but at least it was something.

Getting up from the bench, I checked my phone for the time. It was nearly six.

A television I had mounted on the wall was playing a sports replay package, and I reached for the tiny cooler to grab a cold bottle of water.

I sat on the bench and drank my water, cooling down while I watched TV for a bit. When I tossed the bottle into the recycling bin, I headed back inside.

The living room at least looked like a real human being who wasn’t around during the Nixon administration lived there. A couple of walls had been painted, some vinyl flooring had been added in a room that used to have carpet, and the furniture had gotten a big update. Now that everything had a look more clearly suited my tastes, I felt like I could breathe in it. It also helped that the place didn’t smell like mothballs anymore.


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