Hooked!: A Contemporary, Multicultural Romance

  PROLOGUE

  Kammille was trying not to draw attention to how anxious she was the weekly meeting she attended at the Chamber of Commerce to be over. She usually looked forward to them because it gave her a chance to network and get the name out about her growing catering business. It also got her out of the house these days.

  Since her breakup almost a year ago with the man she just knew she was going to marry, she’d focused on little else but business, rarely leaving the house unless it was to attend a business event, or go for a quick run around her neighborhood or in the park close to her home.

  But ever since she’d returned from Miami a few days ago, flashes of how thoroughly she’d been ravaged by the handsome sports agent conquered her every waking second. His tongue had been like a human vibrator, thrusting in and out of her so expertly it had made her bones go numb when she exploded in orgasm after orgasm.

  He’d been such a masterful maestro over her body, granting Kammille her every wish – and then some. His hands molded her body like clay, knowing just where to touch to make her whimper, moan … and beg. Yes, she’d begged. Begged to be licked here, sucked there, driven into harder, held longer. Pride had gone the way of her panties and the rest of her normal inhibitions – away, away and away. Where? She didn’t know and she hadn’t cared for those precious hours she’d been in his arms.

  When her business partner – and best friend, Liza – had inquired about how her short trip was, Kammille had turned in an Oscar-winning performance, responding, “I spent most of my time in bed.” Not so much as a smirk or a smile had even flitted across her features.

  “Good,” Liza sighed. “You’ve been working like a madwoman since things went south with Omar. Even though your trip was cut short, I’m glad you at least got a change of scenery. Hopefully it gave you some space to reflect on the way things turned out with him so you can get on with the business of moving on.”

  “Oh, it did. It definitely did. You’ve been right all along, a getaway was exactly what I needed, even though it was a quickie,” Kammille agreed.

  What she didn’t say was the time away had nothing to do with putting things into perspective with her ex, but how she’d spent that time – and with whom. But it would remain her little secret. Even though things had taken an unexpected turn after their night of passion and she was embarrassed to admit it – even to herself -- she didn’t regret it. Her only misgiving was that she’d never look into those cool grey eyes again. She shouldn’t even want to after the way he’d treated her after, but lord help her, she did.

  Forget him Kammille, she berated herself for the umpteenth time since returning from Miami. You’ll never see him again – and you should be thanking your lucky stars for that!

  But fate was a cunning witch. She always had different plans.

  Chapter 1

  Kammille kicked off her shoes as she entered the massive foyer of her home. She’d often thought about selling it and moving into the belly of Atlanta where all the action was. The house was way too spacious for one person, and it she was the only single woman living in the neighborhood – the only one. All the other 49 homes that made up the small, upper-middle class subdivision were occupied by regular, every day families; almost all of them with school-aged children. There were two retired couples and one gay couple – and even they had kids.

  If she’d known how things were going to turn out with her ex-fiancé, Omar, she never would have bought the house. They’d bought it “together” ostensibly, but because his credit hadn’t been the best, they’d decided to put it in her name only to get a better interest rate.

  Looking back, she saw how fortuitous it was on one hand – there was no property to split once they split. But on the other, there was no one to come home to in this massive house either. She’d moved from her chic, one-bedroom loft in midtown to this suburb on the outskirts of Atlanta – all in anticipation of marriage and eventually, motherhood.

  But alas, it wasn’t to be.

  After a year of being engaged, she’d pressed Omar to set a date, especially as they had gone into debt ‘together’ for the house. But he’d consistently put it off. When she’d given him an ultimatum of either setting a date or ending the relationship, she never dreamed he’d choose the latter. He told her that he loved her, but wasn’t ready for marriage.

  “So when do you think you will be ready?” she’d asked.

  “To be completely honest, I don’t know,” he’d responded.

  “A year, two years?” she’d pressed.

  “Like I said, I just don’t know Kammille. I love you. I really do. But I’m just not ready to take that step yet.”

  As they’d been together for four years, she was sure it was a case of cold feet, and told him so. “Honey look, every guy is afraid to give up his freedom I suppose. I’m a little scared too, believe it or not. I’m sure it’s just a case of cold feet.”

  And that’s when Omar had dropped a bombshell, one that she knew she could never recover from. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since I proposed Kammille. In fact, to be completely honest, the second I asked you, I wanted to take it back.”

  Kammille stumbled backwards as if he’d sucker-punched her. She remembered how it had taken him almost a month to give her a ring after he’d asked. And he’d only done that after she teased him about being engaged, but with no ‘rock’ to show off to her girlfriends. She remembered thinking that she cared less about the ring itself; it was what it stood for that meant the most to her, that she was taken -- taken by a man who cared enough to let the world know he wanted her to be his wife.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” he’d rushed to explain. “You’re everything a man could want. It’s just …”

  “I’m everything a man could want … except you; except the man I love who is standing in front of me,” Kammille had said.

  Omar hadn’t responded to that. The next morning she’d asked him to move out.

  She recalled what Liza had said to her about Omar soon after their breakup.

  ***

  “I told you about getting mixed up with guys who don’t have good credit.”

  “Just because somebody doesn’t have good credit, it doesn’t make them a bad person Liza. And besides, that had nothing to do with why we broke up.”

  “I didn’t say anything about it making him a bad person, Kammille. I just said men like that are bad marriage material. And indirectly, bad credit says a whole lot about a person, in my opinion.”

  “Like what?” Kammille had asked.

  “Well, for one, it’s a clue as to if a person knows what they want out of life. Omar definitely didn’t know what he wanted.”

  Kammille furrowed her brow, confused at her partner’s reasoning. But, she kept quiet.

  “I don’t mean to be harsh Kammille, but you mean to tell me that after four years of being in a relationship with you – and a year of being engaged to you -- that he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted. I mean, y’all were living together already. It’s not like he was in for a big surprise. But he backed out, which says to me that he had no clue as to what he wanted from your relationship. And when a man doesn’t know what he wants, he’s likely to do all types of stupid crap -- like lose control over his finances and lose control over his sperm. This makes him non-marriage material in my book. I don’t care how fine he is, how much money he makes, or how nice he is. If he can’t control those two things, then those are deal breakers for me.”

  “Now you are really going off on a tangent. What do you mean control over his sperm?” Kammille questioned.

  “As in, having a whole bunch of kids with a who
le bunch of women. Anything more than one is too many for me. I mean look at President Obama – he managed to have none. He kept his sperm in check until he got married. Too many men just don’t know how to do that these days. And we as women don’t make them. If he’s got three kids with two different women, we just saddle on up like it’s no big thing … and many of us become baby mama number three. Craziness!”

  “Well Omar didn’t have any children. And his credit was just a little banged up. It’s nothing that couldn’t have been fixed. People bounce back from bad credit all the time Liza.”

  “But few of them bounce back from indecisiveness – especially at his age. Again, not to beat a dead horse, but if he was in his twenties with ‘banged-up credit,’ as you put it, I could maybe see it Kammille. But Omar was 34 – long past when he should have had his, forgive my French, shit together. And his pride should have made him not allow you be the sole signor on that mortgage. I mean, what kind of man does that? Good thing you make good money and didn’t need him to pay the bills. You’d be stuck with a big ole mortgage all by yourself. Now you’re just stuck … by yourself. But that won’t last. One thing he did get right is that you’re an awesome catch!”

  ***

  Maybe it was time to take that break Liza was always bugging her to take. She hadn’t taken any time off since her breakup with Omar and in exactly 11 days, it would be one year to the day since it had happened.

  She’d decided to save her intimate self for a serious relationship, but that didn’t mean she had to start waiting to enjoy life. After a half hour of surfing, she’d booked a four-day, three-night excursion to South Beach, Miami. It was the only amount of time she felt comfortable taking off with a growing business to look after.

  Eleven days from now she’d be on a plane to sun, sand and hopefully some form of sanity again. And she could rewrite history; the date Omar had broken her heart would have a whole new meaning.

  A fresh start; she’d been denying she needed one for way too long.

  Chapter 2

  11 Days Later

  “Try not to overbook us while I’m gone, will ya,” Kammille threw over her shoulder as she left her office.

  “I’ll try not to, but I can’t help that your marketing is so effective,” Liza said. “I don’t know what you say to those Chamber members when you go to those networking events, but it seems that every time you go, the next day the phone is ringing off the hook. We need to screen a few more reliable banquet servers, order some more aprons, look for larger event space … just get your bottom out of here and get back soon!”

  “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay with me gone Liza? I mean, I know you’re capable and all, but when I booked this trip, I had no idea we’d be so busy. I could delay …”

  “Oh no you don’t missy. You’ve delayed this trip by almost a year too long in my opinion. Now go. Go! Go! Go! … And don’t forget to have fun. Do something sinful; something you’d be embarrassed to even tell your best friend about. Something that can remain your little secret; that can bring a smile to your face during the middle of a hectic day and have people wondering, ‘What the heck is that impish look about?’”

  “Why Liza, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kammille said. “You sly devil. Only someone who has secrets of her own can command someone else to start piling some up.”

  “A southern belle never tells,” Liza smiled, one eyebrow going up. “Now git you.”

  “’Git’? Really Liza? You do realize that you lapse into southernese when you’re up to something or upset, don’t you?”

  “Why yes, I doooo,” Liza said, drawing out the word ‘do’ in her strongest southern accent. “I’ve been told by more than one suitor that when I …”

  “Git Kammille. Git! You’re making me break my own rule of never kissing and telling.”

  Kammille laughed as she exited her office.

  Chapter 3

  Kammille shook her head at the advice Liza had given her before she left.

  Do something sinful; something you’d be embarrassed to even tell your best friend about. Something that can remain your little secret …

  She reclined her window seat in first-class, wondering about the woman who was her business partner. There was definitely more to her than the cultured, perfectly coiffed, well-educated, highly proficient business woman she presented to the world.

  Even though she and Liza had been business partners for a little over three years, they weren’t bosom buddies or best friends. They’d met in graduate school in New York. After graduation, they’d lost touch, but had ‘found’ each other again on social media. Both were living in Atlanta, and they kept running into each other because they ran in the same business circles.

  After a particularly stressful day at her old job a few years ago, Kammille had stopped into a bar to have a glass of wine to calm her nerves. She’d spotted Liza sitting at the bar and during her lamenting about the stress she was under, she’d said, “I wish I could just quit and open a bakery.”

  “Me too,” Liza had said. “I’ve always wanted to open a bakery. It’s my dream job.”

  It had taken them another year to turn the talk into action – and the bakery had turned into a full-fledged catering business, totally by accident from almost day one. Both had raided their 401ks and stepped out on faith. They were smart, but had soon realized that running a business humbles even the smartest person.

  Kammille shook her head at some of the rookie mistakes they’d made; sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss. She was pretty sure that if either one of them knew going in half of what they’d learned the last three years, K&L Catering wouldn’t exist. Fear and doubt would have held them back – at least she knew it was the case for her.

  And even though Kammille and Liza weren’t intimately involved in each other’s personal lives, they made ideal business partners. It suddenly hit Kammille – maybe that’s why they made such great business partners.

  All she knew is that she was grateful she’d taken the leap into entrepreneurship. It afforded her a lifestyle she never would have been able to enjoy had she kept her job as a social worker – like this impromptu first-class trip to Miami.

  While she had enjoyed the ‘helping others’ aspect of her old profession, it had been mentally and emotionally draining. She could have dealt with that, but her boss had been an ass. He was in it for the pension … nothing more. One day he’d just caught her wrong and she couldn’t take his cold, unsympathizing attitude towards those they were supposed to be helping one second longer. Unable to hold her tongue, she’d given him a thorough cursing out – or ‘cussing from hell,’ as her aunt would say – and walked out.

  She’d been terrified of what she was going to do once she realized exactly what she’d done. She’d quit her job! There went health insurance, 401k, income security – everything. The only silver lining at that point had been the fact that she had been a prolific saver over the years. She had never been more grateful for this early life lesson because it meant she had a nice cushion in the bank. Along with her pretty healthy 401k, she hadn’t exactly been in danger of living on the streets. It gave her time – valuable time to figure out what she really wanted to do.

  Once she’d gotten over the panic of not having a steady paycheck, she realized that she still wanted to help others; to make people happy – but she’d decided that in order to make others happy, she had to make herself happy first. She had a friend who was fond of saying, “Peace and pancakes. Who doesn’t love peace and pancakes?” And that’s when it had hit her – baking. It was her first love. She could spread joy through food.

  Looking back, she realized that running into Liza in that bar that day hadn’t been coincidence. She’d never believed in them. She believed that everything happened for a reason and that when you’re ready – the universe conspires to give you your heart’s desire. And that day, she’d been ready. The stars had aligned and a little over three years later, she owned half of one of the hottest ca
tering businesses in Atlanta.

  Life couldn’t be better … her professional life that is. Her love life was a mess.

  No, not a mess, an insistent voice whispered – non-existent. You don’t have a love life. But for right now, Kammille countered the voice, that’s fine. Even though it had been a year, she was still putting her splintered heart back together. Many of the bigger pieces had been put back into place, but there were shards that still had to be pieced together – and she was at a standstill as to how to do it.

  Maybe this trip would do the trick. After all, you could only avoid pain for so long. Eventually you had to acknowledge it, stand and face it, and power through it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare for landing. Put your tray tables up and return your seats back to their original, upright …”

  Kammille had been lost in her thoughts the entire, almost two-hour flight. After complying with the flight attendant’s instructions, she leaned closer to the window, inhaling the beauty of the turquoise, blues and green waters of the ocean below. She almost clapped her hands in glee she was so excited. This trip had definitely been a good idea.