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Authors: Emma Nichols

Sin at Sea

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Image Copyright
Maridav
, 2013
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
eBook formatting by
Indie Pixel Studio
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of
the author.

Becky Carter Nichols, thank you for being there for me throughout this project. I don’t know that I would have had the courage, the confidence, or the determination to finish without you.

Can’t wait to collaborate on Vixen in Vegas!

Much love to my girls,

JB, Elle, Jodi, Brandelyn, Lorraine, Tammy, and Alexis

Every woman needs friends like all of you!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

About the Author

Acknowledgements

I am a runner. Not an actual runner, like with shoes and sweat. Instead, I specialize in leaving uncomfortable situations with alarming speed. Some people need closure; I need space. When I need this space, I do it in style. I keep a variety of emergency credit cards at the ready for such an occasion. This one…was going to require the black card…and my BFF.

Jolie and I have been through it. Every tragedy imaginable and those that most would never want to imagine. She has never failed me. This time would be no different. All I had to do was call. So, I pressed the button on the steering wheel. Damn, I loved Sync.

“Call Jolie on cell.”

Seconds later, the phone was ringing and seconds after that, she answered. “What’s up, girl!” She shouted in excitement.

“How soon can you be packed and how long can you go?” I asked.

See, the beauty of my life, and Jolie’s is that we are digital nomads. We can work from just about anywhere. We can live wherever we want. We don’t have an office to go to, a set schedule, or any ties. Hell, I don’t even have a plant. I pretty much said screw it after my lucky bamboo died. It was a sign. I took it as such. That was one of the causes of my last move.

“Are we moving or regrouping?” Jolie asked. She was always ready for whatever adventure I instigated…and I have a habit of instigating adventure.

“Let’s regroup for a move. How does that sound?” I could feel the tension draining away at merely hearing her voice and letting it all out.

“I take it Kyle fucked up,” she said seriously. “What a douche. Wanna tell me all about it now while I pack?

That was my cue. I had been dying for her to be ready for me to unleash. So, I did. “Well, he’s been working late so often lately that I thought I’d surprise him by bringing dinner to the office.”

“Oh, crap,” she said. This is why we’re besties. Forever. Jolie always knows how to offer just the right kind of sympathy.

“Yeah. I make it to the office. His car is in the garage. I take the elevator up. When I get in there, he’s fucking his secretary on the conference table. It’s so…cliché! Who does that?” I took a breath.

“Go on. Tell me you confronted him.” She was so encouraging.

“I was furious!”

She chuckled. “I imagine.”

“I paced. I waited. It seemed like it was going to be a marathon fuck as opposed to one of his quickies, so finally I sat down on the couch in the waiting area. I laid out the food. I lit the candle.” I paused for dramatic effect.

“And you burned the office down!” She sounded just a little too excited at that prospect.

“Nope. Maybe I should have.” I thought for a moment. “Nah, I’m too pretty for jail.” I joked. It earned me the laugh I intended. “I poured the wine. I sat there and sipped on a glass while I waited. And when they were done and dressed and
she
walked out, I just stared at her.”

“Ouch. I hurt for her. You could kill with those looks.” I could hear hangers rattling and drawers opening and closing as we spoke. The calm was finally taking hold; I had stopped shaking.

“I wish I could kill with those looks, or at least maim. She had looked so pleased with herself until she saw me there looking all cool and confident on the couch. And that’s when Kyle came out. He was tightening his tie and wiping lipstick off his cheek.”

“Oh. My. Gawd.” She squealed. “What did you say?”

“I told him to enjoy dinner and have a nice life. Then I looked at her and told her she could have my leftovers because I don’t share. That’s when I stood up and walked out.” I sighed.

“Whoa. That’s it?” She sounded surprised.

“Hey, I’m a class act. I don’t throw punches. I don’t throw fits. And I don’t give second chances. I’m done. On to the regrouping.” I forced a smile. This was actually bothering me more than I let on.

“How soon until you get here?” She asked.

“I’m pulling onto your street now. I’ll wait in the car. You know the drill. No more than one bag. We’ll buy what we’re missing.” With that, I hung up the phone, pulled into the driveway and waited. This was the fun part. I loved regrouping. I loved fresh starts. This time, after three years in the same place, I needed a big change. This one was going to be massive. We’d need at least a week or ten days to get it together.

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