Resplendent (34 page)

There are many people that I need to thank for pushing me forward and telling me “YES!” when all I wanted to do was run in the opposite direction.

My husband: for kicking me out of the house in the morning to go to Starbucks and get stuff done. For living in a messy house with simple dinners and waiting patiently while I wrote “just one more chapter”.

My son: for playing quietly (or not) every time I was on the computer and not paying attention to you. Believe it or not, I do all this for us. I will be the one to tell you YES when you want to say NO.

Claire Contreras and Angie McKeon: your messages light up my day! Thank you for the laughs, tears, bitching, sharing, and support. Let’s have lunch soon! A big fat burger. With fries. And a Diet Coke.

It’s easy to read a book and say “Yeah, it was great!” It’s an entirely different thing to analyze, ponder, give honest feedback and read the story once, twice, and some of you three times for good measure. Big thanks to those ladies that took time out of their busy lives to read my little story (carefully) and help it grow: A.L Zuan, Elizabeth Salom, Jennifer Carnes, Sandra Cortez, and Lisa Chamberlin.

Readers - Angie McKeon, Jackie Fajardo, Crysti Perry, Kristina Amik, Lisa N. Paul, R.E Hunter, and Allison Nugent. - for your feedback and suggestions.

Paola Gonzalez – Thank you for all the info on Colombian culture. I hope you love Savannah. <3

Elaine Benson – For answering my P.I questions.

ANGTFD: My writing girls. Thank you for making the board what it is! I love you all and look forward to your posts every day.

Jennifer Jimenez – For answering my endless amount of Boston questions (even though it was only for two chapters, LOL)

Nikki Hernandorera – thank you for answering my Coast Guard questions and giving me tips. Oh yeah, and allowing me to use your last name!

Kindle Buddies! My favorite reading group. I love you all, especially my dancing queens ☺

Lori Sabin – My editor for the cleanup of this book and suggestions.

Angela at Fictional Formats – for saving me the headache of figuring this out on my own!

Allie with B Designs for the cover design and putting up with all my emails and ‘bright ideas’.

Shout out to these bloggers for their sweet messages, encouraging words, and pimpage: Angie’s Dreamy Reads, Kindlehooked, Fiction & Fashion, The Sub Club, Three Chicks & Their Books, The Little Black Book Blog, Wild Wordy Women, and all those bloggers that participated in my tour. Thank you is not enough.

MJ Abraham lives in bipolor weather Florida with a husband that makes her laugh and a superhero son that calls her his Princess. She has a degree in Business Administration from Nova University but finds the people in her head to be much more interesting. She is a lover of clever words, reading way past her bedtime, and zombies. She may or may not be as random as her bio.

Contact her on:

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/mjabraham12

Twitter: @MJAbraham12

Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6693551.M_J_Abraham

Email:
[email protected]

Read on for a preview of

coming this fall.

This can’t be happening.
That thought ran on a constant loop through her head as she sat in the cold, uninviting classroom; the smell of antiseptic invaded her nostrils. She sat on a hard, plastic chair, foot tapping furiously, and gripped her hands in her lap. The waiting was killing her. She studied the three people at the front of the room, heads bent together, whispering amongst themselves.

An older man with graying hair, combed over in a pathetic attempt to mask the thin spots on his balding head, sat in the middle and seemed to be leading the discussion. On his left, a younger woman with a severe blond bob, adding harshness to her already angular face, shuffled through a stack of papers and nodded along with the conversation. On his right, another man, middle-aged and average in every way, from his medium build to his brown hair and brown bespectacled eyes, looked as if he were listening intently. He occasionally gave his input while sneaking small, quick glances at her, sympathy etched into his features.

She stared at her hands to avoid his gaze, but she could still feel it. She strained forward, trying to hear what they were saying. No luck. They were taking their sweet time, and all she wanted was to get it over with. Like a Band-Aid, it would hurt either way. Might as well make it quick. She’d been down that road once before. She’d had to pick up the pieces of her broken life and move on to start a new one. She couldn’t do it again, not after all of her hard work to get to this point. She couldn’t accept it, wouldn’t.

How had this happened? They’d been careful. Hadn’t they been careful? She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried in vain to think of something else.

The older gentleman cleared his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. “Miss Jacobs?”

She looked up at the three members of the university’s disciplinary committee, taking them all in one at a time. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, hoping the outward display of confidence would give her some semblance of the same feeling on the inside. That was all shot to hell as soon as she opened her mouth. “Y-yes, sir,” she answered, her voice trembling.

“Do you know why you’re here?” the average man asked, his eyes kind.

“No, sir,” she said, shaking her head. But she was pretty sure she had an idea.

“Let me tell you,” the older man interjected, opening the folder in front of him. He explained the purpose of the hearing and the university’s policies regarding disciplinary sanctions. She sat back, rubbing her palms on her pants and trying to calm down. As she listened to the words coming out of his mouth, she was hit with a rush of emotions so strong, it almost bowled her over in her chair.

Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Betrayal. Rage. Shock. Relief.
Relief?
She fought to keep focused on the seriousness of the situation before her as a litany of memories assaulted her consciousness.

“Look to your left … Now look to your right. One of you won’t be here at the end of the year.”

Embry Jacobs fought to keep her composure as the Dean made a sad attempt to scare her out of her decision to embark on the three-year journey at Whitman Law School. The old theater seats made her itch, and her long blond hair stuck to the back of her neck. She was getting antsy. She leaned in to whisper to her best friend Morgan Maxwell. “Seriously? I thought they stopped giving this speech years ago. Did the Dean take this straight from
The Paper Chase
?”

Morgan chuckled and elbowed Embry in the ribs. “Shhh, this is very important stuff, Bree.”

Embry had read the books and watched the movies. She knew all about the scare tactics used on first-year law students. As cliché as his speech was, she also knew the reality of what the Dean was saying. A good number of the students in that auditorium wouldn’t make it through the first semester, let alone all three years.

Failing out was not an option for her. She had one chance, and she had to make it count. She’d worked so hard to get there. All she’d ever wanted was to be a lawyer, and the only thing standing in her way was three years of school. Already in debt from her undergraduate degree, she was relying on a scholarship to get her through. If her grades didn’t stay high enough to maintain the scholarship, she’d be forced to take out more loans. At least she was going into a profession where she’d be able to make enough to pay them off.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a hard poke to her arm.

“Bree, you coming?”

She looked up to see Morgan waiting for her. Morgan Maxwell had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. She’d been through everything with Embry, and even though they’d lived far apart for the past five years, their friendship had never suffered. When Embry left home after high school without any warning or explanation, Morgan was the only person who knew the real reason. Even when it put a strain on her relationship with her own parents, Morgan stuck by Embry’s side, always supportive and never questioning. When they started applying to law schools at the same time, Morgan convinced her to finally come home so they could experience it together. Embry never believed they’d be so lucky to get accepted to Whitman together, so when she got her admission letter, she started planning her move immediately.

Morgan’s voice broke through her thoughts again. “Earth to Embry! Did you hear a word I just said?”

“What? No, sorry,” she answered.

“Where were you just now?” Morgan said, tilting her head and shooting Embry a curious glance.

“I was just thinking about being back home,” she said, shrugging.

Morgan bounced up and down. “Oh my God, I know! Can you believe we’re really doing this? Morgan and Bree back together again! And in law school!” She grabbed Embry’s arm, pulling her up out of the seat. “Come on, I wanna catch the next campus tour.”

Embry gave Morgan a big smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. “Okay, okay, let’s go.”

The two girls exited the auditorium into the bright summer sun. Embry rummaged around in her purse for her sunglasses, and her fingers brushed the hard edge of an envelope. She dragged Morgan to a stop. “Hey, I totally forgot I have to run to student services.” She pulled the envelope from her purse. “Something to do with my tuition. You okay to do the tour yourself?”

Morgan huffed sarcastically then gave Embry a bright smile. “I’ll be fine. You know I make friends wherever I go!”

Embry chuckled. “Okay, I’ll catch you later.”

She made her way toward the law school and walked through the rear door. She hadn’t been that way yet and found herself disoriented as she navigated the long, empty hallways. Orientation began the week before regular classes, and the incoming first years, or One Ls, had the run of the school. The past few days had been full of meet and greets, computer software seminars, and campus tours. Her first class was in about an hour, and she was nervous as hell. She turned a corner and stopped to take in her surroundings. She realized she had been walking in a circle about the same time something crashed into her, spinning her around. Before she could get her bearings, she felt a large, warm hand on her arm.