Read A Little Bit of Déjà Vu Online
Authors: Laurie Kellogg
A Little Bit of Déjà Vu
| A Little Bit of Déjà Vu |
| Laurie Kellogg |
| CreateSpace (2012) |
Sometimes destiny has the last word (and laugh) Fate thrust them together Blackmail and deception tore them apart Nineteen years later, their children’s love reunites them Now, only truth and forgiveness can make them a family Strangling her meddling cousin is at the top of widow MAGGIE BRADFORD’s to-do list — right after picking up the pieces of her shattered life following her husband’s death. Her mission is to stamp out teen illiteracy, so when her cousin gives her a classified ad and encourages her to make a fresh start with her teenage daughter, unsuspecting Maggie takes the reading specialist job. The last thing she expects to discover is her new school district’s head football coach is the ex-NFL quarterback and Dr. Phil wannabe who broke her heart nineteen years ago. Divorced teacher and psychologist JAKE MANION experiences an eerie sense of déjà vu when his 18-year-old son tells him he’s gotten his girlfriend pregnant. The feeling simply grows stronger when Jake learns the girl’s mother is the same woman he’s wasted nearly two decades of bitterness on after she aborted his baby.
About the Author
Laurie Kellogg is a two-time winner of the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® award, winner of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association® Zola award, and a Romantic Times® American Title I finalist. She began writing to avoid housework and has since resorted to naming the dust-bunnies that multiply as fast as real rabbits while she plots love stories that are steamy, heartwarming, romantic fun!
A Little Bit of Déjà Vu
Winner of the Romance Writers of America
®
Golden Heart
®
Award
and
Winner of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association
®
Zola Award
by
Laurie Kellogg
A Little Bit of Déjà Vu
By Laurie Kellogg
Digital Edition
Copyright 2012 Laurie Kellogg
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are used only to provide authenticity and are used factiously. All other characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance between the novel’s characters and setting and actual individuals or places is completely coincidental. All inaccuracies or mistakes are the author’s fault and accidental. The author apologizes for any factual discrepancies or typographical errors. If you find any, please contact the author so she can correct them for future copies.
Edited by Gwynlyn MacKenzie
Proofreaders
Virginia Clemens
Heidi Luchterhand
Elizabeth Walls
Excerpt from The Memory of You
263
Acknowledgements
Dedicated to my mother and late father.
I love you Mom / I miss you Dad
Perfect parents don’t exist. Their mistakes—usually motivated by love—often come back to haunt them when their children repeat history.
First and foremost, I praise God for giving me the imagination and ability to write. So many people have contributed to my writing career and helped mold me into the author I’ve become. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank:
My husband who’s given me more support than any writer could hope for, and who is the kind of man who inspires all of the best characteristics of the heroes in my stories
My son, not just for his encouragement and marketing advice, but for blessing me with the best daughter-in-law any woman ever had, who gave me an adorable grandson
My wise daughter who never doubts me and who did me the favor of marrying a wonderful man, who is also a talented author
My mom, who gave me the love of reading and who never lets me forget there are other things in life besides writing
My late father and my dear friend, Sheri. Both of you believed in me but left us too soon to share in my joy. I miss you both every day.
My most faithful cheerleaders, my sister and sisters-in-law
My nieces and nephews, who motivated me to keep going and compelled me to set an example of perseverance
My brother and brother-in-law, who never considered my writing a hobby
My previous neighbor and good friend who convinced me to join RWA® and begin to write
My critique partner and sister-of-the-heart who never lets me down in pointing out why my babies aren’t pretty enough for the runway
My beta-readers and good friends
Romance Writers of America
®
and all its generous members who helped me learn to use the talent I was blessed with
The members of the RWA
®
chapters Bucks County Romance Writers, New Jersey Romance Writers, and The Golden Network
All my Golden Heart
®
friends from 2004, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, and 2011—especially my 2009 Ruby-Slippered Sisters who I share a multi-author blog with at
http://www.rubyslipperedsisterhood.com
A Little Bit of Déjà Vu
Prologue
“What’d you say”—Margie Bradford choked on the warm chocolate chip cookie that had shattered her willpower — “your teacher’s” —
cough
— “name is?”
Her throat continued its spasm to expel the lodged crumbs while her daughter, Emma, slapped Margie’s back hard enough to leave a permanent handprint.
Didn’t they cover the Heimlich maneuver in health class anymore?
Then again, it would serve her right if the coroner listed cookies as the cause of her death. The last thing her thirty-six-year-old body needed was more fat and sugar. Since Dan’s death five months ago, her hips had spread like an albatross’s wings.
Emma dashed to the kitchen sink, splashed water into a glass, and shoved it into Margie’s hand. “You okay, Mom?”
“Yes,” she gasped. Or she would be—just as soon as she confirmed she’d suffered from an auditory hallucination.
She gulped the water, and inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate melting in the oven. For the preservation of her waistline, she had to find something besides sweets to reward her students in the future. “Your Human Development teacher—what’d you say his name is?”
“Mr. Manion.” Her daughter’s light gray gaze narrowed. “Why? Have you met him?”
“No,” Margie squeaked. At least, she sure as heck hoped not. There must be thousands of Manions in the world. Squashing her paranoia, she forced her voice back down the full octave it had risen. “What’s his first name?”
“How should I know?” Emma rolled her eyes. “Someone probably mentioned it, but I forget. Do you tell your classes your first name?”
Her daughter had a point. Most of Margie’s middle school students wouldn’t know her name, either—especially since she was new to the district.
“Whatever it is, he’s the only teacher in the whole darn high school who pays any attention to me. My class before his is practically next door, so I always get there early. Mr. M sits and talks to me every day while he’s waiting for the rest of the kids.”
Margie pulled the last tray of cookies from the oven and flipped the control dial off. “So how old is he?”
“
Ewww
.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “It’s not what you’re thinking. He’s just being nice. We talk about movies, books….what I want to do after graduation. Stuff like that.”
“I wasn’t suggesting the man was hitting on you.” Margie sucked in a deep breath in a futile attempt to force her pulse to return to its normal rhythm. “I was simply trying to get a mental picture of him.”
Yeah, right. And if her daughter didn’t spit out what the man looked like in the next thirty seconds, Margie would expire from asphyxiation rather than death by Toll House cookies.
“I guess he’s a little older than you.” Emma shrugged, brushing her long dark hair back from her face. “It’s hard to tell. All I know is his son, Alex, is an absolute hunk. I’d give my entire CD collection for a date with him.”
Seeing her daughter act like a normal seventeen-year-old again warmed Margie’s heart. Regardless of her teacher’s identity, his extra attention was just what the child needed.
Ever since Dan’s 737 crashed the previous spring, Emma had been having nightmares and spent a lot of her free time sleeping. She’d been her daddy’s little princess, and she missed him terribly. Perhaps even more than Margie did—which was a lot.
Cookies might dull her pain during the day, but at night, they just left crumbs in the vacant half of her bed.
Emma’s resemblance to Dan brought a lump to Margie’s raw throat. She swallowed hard and transferred the baked goodies to the wire racks spread across the center work island. “Okay, so what’s he look like?”
Her daughter filched a warm cookie and nibbled it, pacing the length of the condo’s kitchen. “Mmm, I’d say his hair’s about the same shade of light brown as yours before Aunt Barbie talked you into the highlights. And his eyes....” Her dreamy sigh said her description was of Alex, not his father. “They’re like two shimmering pools of mercury.”
“No-o. His dad. What’s he look like?”
Emma did a double take and peered at her. “Why the inquisition about Mr. Manion?”
What could Margie say? That she wanted to know if the teacher was the same guy who’d gotten her pregnant and broken her heart eighteen years ago? “I’m just curious.”
“Actually, he looks a little like daddy—only taller.”
In other words, dark hair and silver eyes. Just like Jake Manion. The bitter taste of dread overpowered the sweet chocolate lingering on her tongue.
“You’ve probably seen pictures of him when he was younger,” Emma added. “He was a famous quarterback a gazillion years ago. He coaches our high school team now.”