Cajun Vacation (26 page)

When she asked her father for the funding to produce the film, he said yes almost immediately. It was just like him. He was always substituting his money for his time. In school, he’d donate material or funds for the plays she performed in, but he never came to see any. Too busy at work he always said.

She lived with him most of her life and they were strangers. For a while she tried to change him. She wanted to make him care and pay more attention to her, but that was a long time ago, and now that she was twenty-four she’d stopped trying.

When she went to Los Angeles to try breaking into Hollywood she didn’t have any success. Every audition she went too always had some reason to reject her. More silver-tongued producers had suggested they discuss her rejection in private and maybe something could still be worked out. She always declined.

It was bad enough to be told no. But if she actually went through and tried to fuck her way to the top it would destroy her. Most of the producers offering her a shot on the casting couch were just lying to get her out of her panties. Once they came, she’d probably still be shoved out the door without a gig.

Even if they did follow through and get her a part, it’d just be worse. Then she’d get the reputation as the actress who’d spread for success and the come-ons would never end. Every gig would be tied to sex. She didn’t want success that way.

Her virginity was long gone, so it wasn’t the sex that bothered her. She loved sex, needed it. It was how she became attached to the people she slept with that caused her problems. Inevitably, they were men who laid on the charm, got her to fall in love with them and into bed, and then she found out it was all an act. They didn’t really care about her, they just wanted access to her money, and she would be left crying and heartbroken.

So she hardened up and decided to be the user in her relationships. Have some wild sex for a few weeks or months and then switch up for a new man. The guys were pissed off when they figured out they’d been used, but she didn’t care. It was just payback for all the other women they probably left hurt.

A door open and closed in the distance. Faye wrung her hands together and felt her heart speed up. A smile crossed her face. The fun of the night was about to get started, and she started slipping out of her clothes.

Excerpt - Shades of Love

“Oh, my God, Casey that was amazing. It was like taking a trip to Heaven. I can’t believe how good you are.” He paused. “Seconds?”

Casey Miller smiled. She loved making people happy in the way she knew best.

“I’ve got plenty to go around, so help yourself,” she said.

Mr. Richards didn’t need any further encouragement. He had the serving spoon in a second and was piling more shrimp on his plate. The sounds of chewing, gulping, licking fingers were all around her and she just couldn’t help but smile.

But that smile withered as she remembered the recent conversation she had held with her accountant:
Catering sales are going well but your fixed expenses are too high
.

Casey sighed, unsure what to do. As the owner of
The Practical Gourmet
, it was her responsibility to solve problems. It just wasn’t possible to work any harder. Right now she had catering events booked months in advance and she was doing everything herself. There was just no time to figure out what else to do to make more money. Hiring additional help made sense, but no one would stay once they found out about one of her other little problems; they would certainly quit and she couldn’t risk rumors starting to spread, so it was just her. Her and her three big problems.

This job at the Chicago Museum of Architecture was particularly fun. She liked old homes almost as much as she liked cooking great food. The museum was opening a new exhibit on Colonial American homes and the turnout was great. Invitations had gone out to all the big donors and it looked like most of them had come. Nearly 200 of Chicago’s most affluent were in attendance, sitting around the various tables, listening to the parade of speakers and most importantly, eating her fantastic food.

She turned away back to look at her buffet table and all the wonderful dishes she had created. The thought of possibly losing her business, her home, everything, was too much; she started to tear up under the strain of it all.

An older gentleman next to her licked some sauce off his fingers. “Here you are, miss. I’ve got some tissue you can use. I always bring extra to these things. Some of these speakers can just be so mind-numbing to listen to I have to cry myself. But that’s OK. It’s the good food and good company that I come for.” He handed Casey some tissue and asked for a business card. “You are a marvelous chef. I’ll just have to tell my wife to have you for our own family events coming up.”

Casey thanked him and gave a weak smile in return.
Another catering gig that I probably don’t have the time to do,
she thought. She sighed again and slumped down in a nearby chair.

She rubbed her left cheek and still couldn’t understand how things had gone downhill so quickly from just two years ago. Her business had been thriving, she’d been newly engaged, and hadn’t had any issues with her house. Now it was all turned upside down with her business failing, her love life in tatters and to top it all off, her house was apparently haunted .

Casey shook her head. Ghosts were the last thing she wanted, or needed, to be thinking about that evening.
Keep moving,
she told herself.
Keep busy.
She wasn’t exactly where she expected to be in life, but it was what it was and she needed to deal with it.

Keep moving. Keep busy.
That was the key to getting her troubles off her mind and finally getting ahead. She stood up and went back to her table.
We need more fruit,
she noted and she started making her way back to the museum kitchen area to restock the table. How Colonial architecture influenced later Civil War era building was the topic of the next speaker and Casey glanced up at the Master of Ceremonies and felt a flutter in her stomach as she walked by and out of the event area.

Lucas Stern passed the podium off to the next speaker and the audience applause. He could barely stand it. Walking to the side of the stage in his tuxedo he felt acutely self-conscious. The museum had invited him to be MC because he was a regular donor, and had done some writing on 19th Century Era American homes that had caught the eye of one of the trustees. It was an honor to be asked, and he was pleased to accept, but he hated wearing something so formal. Tuxedos were so constricting compared to the normal clothes he wore daily and the last time he’d worn a tux hadn’t exactly been a happy occasion.

Chasing ghosts is for children and psychos. I want a real man.

Two years later it still stung when he thought about it. Louise was ‘the one’ or so he had thought and they had been about to get married when she’d finally realized that he hadn’t been joking about what his real occupation was.

He wasn’t a ghost chaser. He was a
hunter.
Not the kind on TV, with infrared equipment and digital recorders, hoping for an EVP, but a
real
one—with the sorts of powers and skills to make even the most diehard television ghost chaser afraid. Because there were some things out there you needed more than a camera to track down. And a lot more than that to drive them away.

He forced a grin as two trustees passed him on the way back from the buffet table. One of them leaned into him and whispered, “You’re doing a great job, Lucas, but you should be having fun yourself. Go grab something to eat.”

He nodded in agreement and turned straight for the open bar instead. A drink sounded better right now.

Why couldn’t you be normal like everyone else?

He shook his head to get the shriek of her voice out of his mind. When Louise had realized the truth, her affection turned to venom in an instant and she’d walked out leaving him at the altar.

It had been humiliating for him and all his guests. The ones who were hunters had understood, but everyone else had thought he was crazy. It had taken an awful amount of work to mend a lot of strained relationships after his wedding fiasco.

The speaker started going over all his wonderful credentials related to his subject matter and Lucas suppressed a yawn.
Why do speakers do that?
he thought.
Their full bio and credentials are in the fucking program, so why not just get on with their speech?
He never did that in the rare occasions he was asked to speak. Announce your topic and get to the point: that was his philosophy.

The bar was still too far away. He started snaking his way through the tables.

You and your ghosts stay the fuck away from me, you hear?. I never want to see you again.

He only had one-night stands since Louise. And that had been fine with him. The women always gave him what he wanted, and he didn’t keep them around too long. He’d learned that lesson. It wasn’t worth getting close to anyone who was just going to ditch him when they learned he was a hunter. Sometimes, after a few shots of tequila, he even started to believe it.

People started crowding Casey as soon as she made it back with more fruit. The smell of fresh strawberries seemed to be a particular hit and before the new tray had even made it to the buffet table it was nearly half-empty.

She took a moment to arrange everything perfectly and took a step back to admire her work when she hit a solid mass. Casey spun around, ready to apologize to whomever she had stepped into when her eyes locked with the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen. No exotic green or dazzling blue, but simply brown and practically glowing with electricity, power, and danger. She felt a lump in her throat fall down into her stomach and she backed away slightly, her apology a bare whisper.

“You just said you were sorry, but it’s alright. I’ll keep it a secret,” the man said .

Casey stammered, her eyes trying to break free from his gaze when she finally looked away to the rest of his face. His skin was perfect, with no cuts or blemishes over any part of his face, from his sandy blonde hair to his prominent jaw. His own hungry eyes never wavered a moment from her, and she felt her skin grow warmer. Suddenly she realized how a gazelle felt when a lion regarded it and heated up a few more degrees.

“I don’t know what secret you’re talking about,” she finally got out.

An amused smile broke across his face and she wanted to tell him to move away but didn’t. “It’s the strawberries,” he said. “The guests really cleared the strawberry tray, but they missed the best parts about them.” He went over to the table and grabbed one of the sweet, smaller berries and covered it in whipped cream.

“Strawberries are so sweet and delicious people can eat them plain, but I always like my sweet things with a little extra on them. Don’t you?” he said in a far too seductive voice. He pushed the berry into his mouth, finishing it off in a single bite, then made another. “Try one.”

Casey’s thoughts were slow coming to her and she wondered what type of drug he must be to get her so tongue-tied. She tried stepping back again, but the movement rubbed her bra against her breasts and she stifled a groan. There was no denying that her nipples had become aroused and tender. She stopped moving.

“I can’t,” she said. “This is work for me and I need to keep the table up.”

The man motioned at the table. “Your table looks wonderful. Just like you do. You can try just one, no one will know. You’re not one of those always have to be safe and secure type of girls are you?”

Casey frowned at his derisive tone when he said ‘girls’. “I smell the liquor on your breath. You’re drunk and you need to stop making a fool of yourself.”

“I’m most certainly not drunk. I’ve had one drink and you dodged the question. Are you a girl that always does things inside the lines? The safe way?”

He paused. “Maybe it’s because we’re strangers. My name is Lucas. What’s yours?”

He was still holding the berry for her and she shot a glance at his ring finger, relieved that it was empty. At least he’s not a married fool, she thought. She couldn’t understand why she was even talking to him except for how hot she was feeling.

She pulled herself up to her best height and replied in the most indignant voice she could muster, “My name is Casey Miller and no, I don’t always stay in the lines. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well now, we’re not strangers any longer. Would you try the strawberry now? It really does have the sweetest juices.”

She reached for the berry only to have him brush her hand away. “No, open your mouth and let me,” he said.

She opened her eyes wide with shock at his suggestion and opened her mouth to refuse when he touched the berry to her lips. Three fingers held it to her mouth while his pinkie caressed the underside of her chin. A small squeak escaped from her throat and her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick the cream before she bit and swallowed the sweet fruit.

He didn’t withdraw his hand like she expected but instead ran his fingers lightly over her lips. Her body started trembling slightly as the berry juices on his fingers hit her senses and without thinking, she parted her lips slightly and moved her head forward to take his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue circled around, licking the juices off them until they were clean and then, horrified, she pulled away.

She started darting her head around to see who was nearby when Lucas grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry, everyone’s eating, chatting, or watching the speaker. Nobody saw anything.”

She took a step back, shaking her head. The audience started to applaud. She pointed at one of the trustees and said, “They’re looking for you.”

Then she turned and bolted from the event area.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6