Sunday Sample - The Long Game

Good afternoon, readers. 

Bryan and Kathy aren't speaking to each other and they've also stopped talking to me, so today I'm sharing something from their friends' book, The Long Game.

Other than being over six feet in height, with dark skin and nice teeth, Lawrence wasn't my kind of man. He didn't stir any emotion in me and had clammy hands. That, in itself, didn't disqualify him as a partner, but the fact that I felt nothing for him did.

My talk with Vance this morning came to mind. He had to be missing a few screws to think I'd consider rehashing our first crazy attempt at romance.

After twisting my hair into a knot, I got out of the clothes I'd worn to the office and had a shower.  While in the stall, my mind wandered. I wasn't sure what had come over Vance, but I didn't like it. He was easier to deal with when acting as if he didn't have a serious bone in his body. I didn't know what to do with the lover in him and it was too late in the day for us to turn back the clock.

By the time I put body butter on my skin and was on my way to the kitchen to get a snack with my Kindle under my arm, someone knocked at my door. I changed course, wondering who was outside. If it was any of the guys they'd let themselves in, so it was probably one of my neighbours wanting to borrow something.

I opened the door, and Vance stood outside leaning against one wall. When he saw me looking at his hand, he raised it. "I brought you dinner."

Opening the door wider, I beckoned for him to come inside. "You had to find a way, huh?"

"I know you're not being your usual nasty self," he said, giving me a sneaky grin.

"Of course, I am. I should have known you'd find a way to come here and harass me."

"Who said anything about harassing you?" His sigh was that of someone who'd been done wrong. "I was at Garth's and he had more food than he needed. Since you don't eat properly unless you're forced to, I decided to give Anna-Lise and him some privacy and eat with you."

He walked into the house and I stepped back, taking the bag from him. "What's in here?"  

"Vegetable chop-suey, some kind of peppery chicken and rice."

"Sounds good."

He trailed me to the kitchen and pulled out a chair while I served the food on plates and heated them in the microwave. When we sat across from each other, prepared to eat, I asked, "You want to tell me why you're over here. Really?"

He shrugged. "I told you and I wanted to talk to you. You know that."

I wasn't ready for that conversation, but saying so wouldn't make a difference. Vance was like a hurricane when he decided to have his way. He'd brush my objections aside and say what he needed to express, whether I was prepared to hear it or not.

Want to read more? Find out how the rest of this story goes at lrd.to/long-game