On The Dotted Line

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Authors: Kim Carmichael

BOOK: On The Dotted Line
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On The Dotted Line

 

 

 

Kim Carmichael

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Kim Carmichael

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13:978-0692360316

Without limiting the rights under
copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written
permission of the publisher of this book.

This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of this author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or
locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

Published by Rebel Romance, an
imprint of Irksome Rebel Press

 

 

Graphics by JWORX Designs

 
 
 
Dedication

 

 

 

To
everyone who was ever told they couldn’t and then went ahead and did it anyway.

Chapter One

 

 

 

“Don’t get married for love.” Randolph Van Ayers III
pressed two fingers to his left temple. The throbbing in his head reverberated
throughout his body. Though he wanted to go home and lie down, if he came home
with anything his mother considered an ailment, he would end up quarantined in
one wing of the house no matter how many times he told the woman headaches
weren’t contagious. The Mitchell Art Gallery presented him with a definite
upgrade to being a medical pariah.

“Maybe
you should look inside yourself for love.” The owner of the gallery, Slate
Mitchell, stopped in front of a photograph of the back of a man’s head staring
out into space. “However, I am still reeling that I didn’t get an invitation to
your wedding, love or not.”

“Don’t
spew your rhetoric at me.” It took all his effort to shake his head at the
oversized, overdone image. The print wouldn’t be worth anything in his
lifetime. “I didn’t even want to attend, not that it matters since I didn’t get
married today for love or otherwise. However, I do thank you for the party in
my honor.”

“Nothing
like an impromptu birthday party to blunt being left on the courthouse steps
with no bride.” Slate patted him on the back.

“I
appreciate how you’ve kept this low key as I asked.” His life had been reduced
to a frat party in an art gallery. Earlier a keg was delivered.

“It’s
only small if the police don’t get called. I have some better ones over here.” Slate
guided him through the wide-open space designed to be a showcase of the latest
local artists. Anyone in the city with seven figures behind their name wanted
to be the next person to discover the artist of the second, and the gallery was
in the perfect spot in LA to make waves without the cost per square foot of
more trendy or upscale areas.

They
stopped in front of another wall of photographs. “These would go with the
sculpture of the birds you bought last month. Different artist, but similar
feel. I can get you a discount for your special day.”

He
assessed the black and white photograph of a little bit of nature left in the
Greater Los Angeles area. Mountains, clouds and birds in perfect juxtaposition
of smog and the city. “A discount. Happy birthday to me.”

“Well,
it’s the least I can do for the man whose bank made it possible for me to
become the new go-to gallery for poor little rich boys such as yourself.” Slate
motioned toward the next photograph.

“Remember
until you pay off your mortgage, my bank owns you.” Randolph took a breath in
an attempt to focus on the potential of the picture. “Maybe you should default
on the loan, after midnight tonight it will no longer be my bank and I will no
longer be rich.” While he considered Slate one of his better friends, he knew
once the money ran out the friendship would follow.

“Come
on, that story you tell is just a pick up line. You can stop now.” Slate
stopped and motioned toward the next piece of art, namely his girlfriend, Jade.
“And here is a masterpiece.”

“The
story is totally true. Randolph told me the story when we were dating, it’s
incredible, and true.” Dressed in a nude body suit with a hat made up of
flowers Jade uncoiled her body, stretching her arms out and taking her time
standing up. She came over, kissed them both on the cheek and hooked her arm in
Slate’s. “I’m blooming.”

“Baby,
it’s a story designed to make girls have the expression on their face you have
right now. You didn’t really date him, you only went as his plus one to that finance
event when he was desperate.” Slate chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You
make a beautiful flower.”

Randolph
met the little piece of living art a few years ago at a financial conference
when she donned her other persona as a property manager. Her parents owned some
select buildings throughout Los Angeles and she took care of them when they
retired. He invited her to accompany him to an event, but rather than a kiss
goodnight he ended up with a friendship instead. However, the slight blush and smile
on her face spoke volumes. Women loved his pathetic all too true story.

If
only it were a story.

“Unless
he got married by his thirty-third birthday and stayed married for a year, he
would lose his inheritance.” Jade pressed her hands to her chest. “He signed a
contract and everything.”

Both
he and Slate groaned.

Jade
let go of her boyfriend and flung her arms around him. “I’m so sorry. I would
help you if I could.”

“Can
I borrow you for twelve months?” A plus one was better than nothing. He needed
to face the fact he was never going to have a relationship for anything other
than money. Hell, he probably got left at the courthouse for a man with a larger
trust fund.

“No,
you may not. She is not on loan.” Slate pulled her away. “Plus, he doesn’t want
to get married for love.”‘

“Well,
he may not want to get married for love, but getting married for money isn’t
working for him either.” Jade returned to Slate and wrinkled her nose.

“It
doesn’t matter. It’s over unless a bride drops into my lap in the next five
minutes.” Since he created the situation, he would live with the repercussions.
In the end, his father’s entire scheme had been built around his failure. At
least for once he would prove the man right.

“Can
we study the art?” Slate walked backward, corralling them to the next piece.

“I
need to finish getting ready for the party and Willow’s here. She said she
wanted to talk to me so I invited her.” She waved her arm. “Come here and say
happy birthday to Randolph.”

An
ethereal cloud of yellow and white swirls materialized out of the corner of his
eye.

He
tightened his jaw and finally did Slate the favor of staring at the next work. Maybe
Willow Day would vanish if he didn’t look directly at her. Everyone knew
ignoring the problem made it go away.

“It’s
Randolph’s birthday?” she asked.

Her
voice brushed over him, as soft and supple as her name. If only the rest of her
matched. A new tenant in one of Jade’s buildings down the street from the
gallery, he crossed paths with her a few times in the last couple of months,
but the encounters were always the same. No, pretending a problem didn’t exist
never made it go away. He squeezed his hand into a fist.

“We’re
having a party for him.” Jade dragged her over.

With
the woman standing directly in his line of sight, he needed to look. The way
she gazed at him always made him think she was intrigued or interested. Again,
her appearance didn’t match her attitude. Long, straight blonde hair literally
floated around her as if she managed to get someone with a fan to follow her
around. Unlike most women in Los Angeles, she wore little makeup, only enough
to enhance her light blue eyes, petite features and glowing skin. He suspected
she had a nice little body under all the flowing layers of clothes. She didn’t
stuff herself into her wardrobe leaving little to the imagination. Someone
would have to really search and discover. No, nothing on her was man made or
artificial, everything natural. A rare find.

“Well,
Happy Birthday.” She graced him with a smile.

The
same smile sucked him in the first time he met her. Though it lit up her face,
he sensed something beneath her upturned lips, something he wanted to get to
know until he actually spoke more than two sentences to her. “Thank you.”

“Scorpio.”
She tilted her head. “I should have guessed.”

Case
in point. He swallowed. “I hardly think a bizarre alignment of planets and
stars millions of light years away from me on the day of my birth have anything
to do with my personality. Wouldn’t that mean anyone born on my birthday should
be exactly like me?”

“Let’s
hope not.” While her voice came out soft and sweet, her words were hard and
cutting. She gave Jade one of her multi-layered smiles. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s
fine. I’ll meet you back in Slate’s office.” Jade pointed.

Without
any more well wishes, Willow walked through the gallery.

Jade
glared at him. “I’ll be back for your party.” She spun on the ball of her bare
foot and left.

“What’s
your poison?” Slate motioned toward the photo.

“I
want something different, something with some bite.” Everything presented to
him seemed trite, done before. He longed for something unexpected.

“I
think you have enough bite for everyone.” Slate shook his head. “Especially
Willow.”

He
exhaled. “She called me a Scorpio.”

“How
dare she call you your own astrological sign?” Slate tucked his notepad back
into his pocket. “She’s such a meanie.”

“It
was the way she said it.” He stopped in front of the next photo. The artist
quite literally took a picture of nothing. A big black square hung on the wall,
creating a hole in the middle of the show. With a bit of metallic paint it might
have potential, as long as the artist had the vision.

“Aw,
did Randy get his feelings hurt?” Slate raised his voice as if he were talking
to a baby. “She’s having a hard time.”

“What’s
wrong with her?” He stared into the nothing. Maybe the artist was trying to
depict potential rather than emptiness.

“Everyone
goes through ups and downs, some downs are just lower than others.”

Damn
it. He glanced at his friend. The few times he met her, their encounters were
always the same. She would materialize, he would try to speak, something
strange would come out of her mouth, leaving him no choice but to comment and
she would walk away. “She’s back in your office, meeting with Jade.” In his
distraction with his own situation, he neglected to pick up on the significance
of the Jade meeting, especially if Jade was interrupting one of her art
performances.

“Yeah,
Jade, her landlord. Go grovel, it will do you some good.”

Money
woes, one of the world’s great equalizers. “I’ll take this one. It speaks to
me.” He strode through the gallery, stopping short outside Slate’s office at
the sound of her voice.

“I
don’t have any money left, and you can’t keep extending my rent payment,”
Willow whispered. “It’s not right, everything is off balance.”

He
put his back to the wall to listen.

“Don’t
worry about the rent, it’s fine.” Jade’s tone was one of compassion and
authority. “Right now we are working on the barter system. Just keep me in
products and tea and we are fine.”

“I
can’t do that. I just need to sell a little more at the shop.” Her voice was broken
but not destroyed. “I did a little research.”

At
the rustling of papers he inched toward the doorjamb trying to spy what she
would produce.

“What’s
this?” Jade raised one of the documents.

“There
are companies who will give loans to people in need.” She let out a nervous
chuckle. “Funny the people who need the loans the most are the ones who can’t
get them.”

“Willow,
these are loans designed so that no one ever pays them off.” Jade shook her
head.

A
shudder ran though him at the thought of the interest rates alone. Those loans
were no joke and lured in desperate people who needed money fast and under the
most dire circumstances.

At
his realization, he glanced at the time and resumed his eavesdropping.

“Hey,
I didn’t mean for you to spy. What are you some kind of creep?” Slate came from
the other direction and pushed him into the office. “Look at what I found
lurking about.”

He
stumbled into the room and his head spun. Once he regained his footing, he gave
Jade a half-hearted wave and glanced at Willow. If possible, her light
complexion was even paler, almost translucent. He recognized her pallor. It was
the same look he saw whenever someone honestly needed funds. Somehow he needed to
tell her he had her stay of execution, and it would only require one year of
her life.

Jade
narrowed her eyes at them.

“I
wanted to grab something to show our peeping Randolph.” Slate went to his desk
and picked up his tablet computer.

Both
Jade and Willow focused on Randolph.

“I
don’t believe Willow should take out one of those high interest loans.” With all
the attention on him, he did the only reasonable thing and brought sanity to an
insane situation. The vice around his head seemed to tighten and he rubbed the
back of his neck. “She needs to create as much inventory as possible for her
shop because that is the only sure way she will have money coming in.”

“I
need the loan to buy the materials to make my inventory.” Willow lifted her
chin.

“Not
if Jade is letting you take a break on the rent.” He returned his hand to his
temple swearing he felt the pulse of pain through his fingertips.

She
hugged her papers to her chest. “My supplies are very expensive.”

“Willow’s
morning tea actually works. I feel great.” Slate looked up to the ceiling. “What’s
it called?”

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