Rochelle Alers - Sweet Southern Nights

Traci thought Angela was delusional until she accidently read a draft of her novel on her computer. That was when Angela had sworn her cousin to secrecy. The two had always been confidantes, so Angela knew she could trust Traci not to tell anyone that she was a bestselling author.

What her readers didn’t know was that she did leave her home and that she actually had an active social life. The exception was when she was facing a deadline. And, she didn’t have to go very far for inspiration. She had five brothers, who were all single, as well as the men she dated to research her male characters. And for her heroines, she had her own experiences, as well as women friends and family to draw upon. But none of her characters had names of people she knew, and she only used snippets of their personalities in developing her characters.

Taking the pages she’d printed and a red pencil, Angela moved from behind her desk to a plush club chair with a matching ottoman. Light from a floor lamp provided enough illumination as she settled in to read what she’d typed:

His fingertips feathered down the length of her bare skin, his gossamer touch reminding Ericka of the gentle brush of a butterfly’s wings.

Does that sound too cheesy? Angela mused.

Her red pencil was poised to make changes when her cell phone rang, shattering the quiet. She reached for her cell phone. “Hi. This is Angela,” she answered, without glancing at the caller ID display.

“Is this Angela Chase?” came a deep voice on the other end of the line.

A slight frown etched on her forehead. “Who’s asking?”

“Levi Eaton.”

She went still. “Who are you and how did you get my number?”

There was a brief pause. “Your brother Duncan gave me your number, Miss Chase. I work with him at the clinic.”

There was another pause. “Why would he give you my number?”

“He said you needed an escort for a wedding on Sunday.”

It wasn’t until she felt the sharp twinge in her jaw that Angela realized she’d been gritting her teeth. It was something she did whenever she was stressed or at a loss for words. Her brother had no right! Duncan had no right to interfere in her social life! Her mouth gaped open when realization dawned. She was willing to bet her first born that her mother had asked Duncan to find a date for her.

“Duncan’s wrong. I don’t need an escort.”

“Look, Miss Chase, I don’t need to get involved—”

“It’s Angela,” she interrupted.

“As I was saying, Angela, I don’t need or want to get involved in any family fracas, but I did tell your brother I’d be willing to take you as a favor to him. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“Don’t hang up!” she practically shouted into the tiny mouthpiece. “Are you still there?” she asked after several seconds. A low chuckle caressed her ear.

“Yes, I’m still here. Have you changed your mind?”

Angela’s mind was in tumult. There was something about Levi Eaton’s voice she liked. And, if the rest of the man matched the voice, then he could at least be character development material for her novels.

“Yes, I have. I may have been a little too hasty. My brothers believe they know what’s best for me when it comes to my social life.”

“Are they usually right?”

Angela smiled. “Most times—no. Do you keep track of your sister’s love life?” she asked.

“No, I don’t. Because I don’t have a sister. Now that we’ve established that I’ll be your date for the wedding, I suggest we meet sometime tomorrow and talk so we’ll be on the same page come Sunday.”

I like his approach, she thought. The smile curving Angela’s lips reached her eyes. It was obvious Levi Eaton was a take-charge guy. He’d mentioned he worked with Duncan at the clinic.

“How did you come to know Duncan?” she asked him.

“That’s something we’ll discuss tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows lifted a fraction. Mysterious, she thought. “When and where do you want to meet?”

“I’m scheduled to see patients in the morning, so I won’t be able to get to Louisville until late afternoon. We can talk over dinner. You’re probably more familiar with the restaurants in Louisville than I am. Where would you like to eat?” Levi asked.

He’d answered one of Angela’s questions. Levi Eaton was a doctor. “I’d rather not go out. If people spot us together, then it’s going to generate a lot of questions. We can meet at my place.”

“What if I bring dinner?”

Angela laughed for the first time. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll cook.”

“I don’t want to put you out, Angela. I don’t mind bringing dinner.”

“I have to cook for myself, so making a little more definitely won’t put me out. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

It was Levi’s turn to laugh. “No. Surprise me.”

Daring. “Maybe I should’ve asked if there is anything you’re allergic to, or if you have any dietary restrictions.”

“No and no.”

Angela gave Levi her address, listening intently as he repeated it. “Is seven too late for you?”

“No. Seven is perfect.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow at seven. Call me if you get lost trying to find my house.”

“That’s all right, Angela. My car has GPS navigation.”

She wanted to tell Levi that even with GPS people still weren’t able to find her house that easily since the area where she lived in the suburbs of Louisville was secluded with private roads and streets.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Levi repeated.

“Levi?”

“Yes, Angela.”

“Thank you.”

A full-throated laugh came through the earpiece. “You’re quite welcome.”

Depressing a button, Angela ended the call. She didn’t know whether Levi was laughing at her. It wouldn’t be the first time one of her brothers had dared a man to go out with her. It was as if they had taken a concerted interest in her love life since her former fiancé eloped with her maid of honor the day before her wedding.

They would’ve hunted him down and beat him to a bloody pulp if she hadn’t convinced them it was better to find out that her fiancé was unfaithful before she’d married him. If she’d found out after they’d exchanged vows, then it might have been her who would have tried to pound the life out of him with a cast-iron frying pan.

It didn’t matter if Duncan wagered or paid Levi Eaton to be her date because come Sunday, it would be the first time in five years she would come face-to-face with the duplicitous pair who’d turned her life upside down.

Soft meowing caught her attention. Shifting on the chair, Angela saw the tiny, white-coated cat with gleaming blue-gray eyes staring up at her. To say the cat was spoiled was an understatement. “What do you want, Miss Divine?” The cat meowed in response, arching her back and stretching out her front paws. Putting the manuscript pages and pencil on the table, she leaned over and picked up her pet.

Angela knew Miss Divine could jump up onto her lap without any help, but she was training her to stay off the furniture. The exception was when she sat at her desk working during the day. Miss Divine would find a spot on the corner of the L-shaped desk and settle down to sleep as sunlight poured in through the skylight and French doors.

She was one of those rare cats who had learned that the kitchen, dining and living rooms were off-limits. Angela had resisted having a cat or dog because of the pet hair and dander. And she refused to resort to covering her furniture if Miss Divine decided to sit wherever she pleased. But once she saw the tiny kitten, she knew she had to have her.

“Well, Miss Dee, it looks as if you’re going to be on your own on Sunday,” she said as the cat stared back at her owner as if she understood what Angela had said. “As much as I tried to fight it, yours truly has a date for Yvette’s wedding.”