A Passionate Discovery (Self-Discovery Series)

A Passionate Discovery

 

T. Brooke

 

Copyright
© United Kingdom 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and
retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places
and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.  The publisher does
not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or
third-party websites or their content.

 

All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

"This
should be one of the happiest days of my life," Carla mumbled under her
breath, stomping her foot in agitation.

After four
years of working her ass off to get her degree, she felt just as empty as she
had when she first set foot on campus. In a few hours, she would receive a
Bachelor of Science Degree in Business; a good result for a girl from a trailer
park in nowhere Mississippi, so why couldn't she be happy, she wondered.

She felt
as though she was drowning, and every time she tried to pull herself to the
surface and into a better mood the current reached out to drag her back down.

Try though
she did to analyze the situation, she still wasn't sure what was wrong with
her. Tonight was the result of four years of hard work; she had focused on
nothing else during the whole of that time, and having finally reached the end
of it she should have been relieved at the very least.

Her relationship
wasn't the problem; she didn't have one. Long ago she had concluded that relationships
were pointless and that entering into one would only make her unhappy; not only
that but it would get in the way of the career she was working towards.

As their
relationship collapsed, she had witnessed her parents' behavior degenerate
until they were acting like selfish and vindictive children. That had convinced
her that relationships weren't worthwhile, an opinion that was cemented when
her father walked out on her mother for a younger woman.

She just
couldn't see the point in getting involved with someone who would leave her the
moment she was no longer young and sexy.

Putting on
a bare minimum of makeup, she never wore much, Carla continued to dwell on her
discontent, wondering if it was the future that had her so confused and
agitated.

Now that
she finally had her degree, life was uncertain. Jobs were hard to come by, even
with a degree, and over the next few months she would be lining up interviews,
she hoped. There was no guarantee that she would find a job however, let alone
her dream job, not that she knew what her dream job was.

The only
thing she knew for sure was that she had left Mississippi and moved to New York
to avoid poverty, and she had no intention of going back there.

Thinking
about the move from Mississippi, and the possibility of having to go back there
if she couldn't find a job, brought her mother to the front of her thoughts.

She could
have done anything with her life; one night she'd found her mother's scrap
book, it was filled with pictures of her on stage in Nashville. She was so
beautiful and full of life in those pictures, not like the worn out woman she
had left crying as she pulled her old pickup truck, the one gift from her
father she still possessed, out of the drive, all those years before when she
left for college.

Her mother
had refused to talk about her dreams and her life on stage, and Carla had
discovered that it was best not to bring the subject up. The sad look of desire
on her mom's face broke her heart; she deserved so much more than her useless
excuse for a father had ever given her.

From the
moment her father left her for a twenty-something year old slut, Carla had been
forced to watch as her mother withdrew into herself, becoming a shell of the
person she had once been. She stayed as long as she could, but after spending
the summer following her high school graduation watching her mother torture
herself over what she had done wrong, and listening to her cry herself to sleep
every night, she'd had enough.

In her
opinion her dad was a piece of shit, and she hadn't spoken to him since he
walked out. It wasn't the thought that her stepmother was the same age as her
that stopped her talking to him; it was the memories of what he had done to her
mother. He was the epitome of everything she despised about men, and the main
reason she refused to get involved with anyone; with the result that she was a
twenty-four year old virgin, with no interest in changing that fact anytime soon.

Pulling
her long dark hair into a sensible flip, Carla stepped back from the mirror and
took a deep breath in an effort to get her emotions under control. She knew Scarlett,
her best friend since she moved to New York, would arrive any minute so they
could walk down the aisle together.

Grinning
at how screwed up that thought sounded, even in the silence of her mind, she
realized the proceedings that were to take place shortly was as close to a
wedding as she was likely to participate in; at least with her as a principal
figure.

Scarlett
was everything Carla wasn't; outgoing and sexy, and she dated anything with two
legs and a dick. It didn't hamper their friendship in the least though. Carla
admired her friend because she went after what she wanted, and didn’t let
anything get in her way, and that included men.

While Carla
didn't get Scarlett's craving for the male species, she found she couldn't
dislike her for it. Scarlett used men the same way other men used women, taking
what she wanted from them and then moving on to the next hunk. Despite that
they still fawned over her like dogs in heat.

In the
beginning Carla had wondered why she didn't dislike Scarlett for the way she
treated men, since it was essentially the same way her father had treated her
mother. Over time she had come to the conclusion that it was because her friend
never promised the men anything, and consequently never broke a promise, while
her father had made promises to her mother, promises he had broken.

"I
hope your ass is dressed, girl," Scarlett called out as she walked into
her friend's dorm room without knocking. "I'd hate to be late for our own
graduation."

"In
the bathroom," Carla called back, putting on a coral colored lip gloss
before joining her friend in the main room. The moment her eyes found Scarlett
she laughed, "Sorry, babe, but that gown does nothing for you."

"Smart
ass; it's what's underneath that counts," Scarlett retorted, lifting the
hem of the gown to her waist. She laughed at her friend's expression; she was
wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

"Holy
hell, Scarlett." Carla blushed furiously, shaking her head. Very little
bothered her, she generally just ignored things, but somehow Scarlett always
managed to shock her.

"Yeah,
I'm hell on wheels." Giggling Scarlett dropped the hem and put her hands
on her small waist. "Now get your ass in gear, I want to get through this
crap as quickly as possible, I've got a hell of a party lined up for when we're
done."

Carla
groaned aloud at her words. "Scarlett, you know I don't mind being your
designated driver, but please tell me you won't be getting us kicked out of
whatever bar we're going to tonight." Her friend had a temper, and the
last time they'd ventured out on the town a guy had gotten a little too
friendly; it had ended with Scarlett throwing him across a table.

"This
isn't that kind of party, girlfriend." Scarlett waggled her eyebrows.
"Now get dressed so we can go!"

"Where
are we going then?"

“That’s a
surprise,” Scarlett told her, grinning secretively.

Carla was
curious, not to mention a little apprehensive. She'd been the non-drinking
friend in the pair since they'd met, and over the years had almost become Scarlett's
bodyguard. When Scarlett decided to party she had a tendency to party hard, and
Carla had been forced to look after her on many an occasion when she had drunk
too much.

Returning
to her bedroom Carla pulled on the plain brown dress she'd selected for the
evening, and then slid the graduation gown over the top of it. Before leaving
the room to return to her friend she grabbed her cap off the dresser.

 

They made
it to the ceremony just as it was about to begin, and though she was excited to
be receiving her degree, Carla found it to be one of the most boring periods of
her life. She actually breathed a sigh of relief when it was over.

"I
thought it would never end," Scarlett said with a laugh as she slid behind
the wheel of her little two seat convertible.

"I'm
with you there, but hey, we finished!" Carla stared down at her degree in
its leather holder before sliding into the passenger seat and putting on her
seatbelt.

"Now
the real fun can begin. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight." Scarlett
revved the engine, smiling at the sound it made.

"This
is one hell of a car." Carla didn't begrudge her friend the exotic ride,
but she did wonder if she would ever have the opportunity to find out what it
felt like to own something so expensive.

"Just
another one of daddy's payoffs for always being busy," Scarlett said
dismissively, an unhappy look on her face. She quickly pulled herself out of
her funk however. It was one of the things that drew the two of them together;
both of them had worthless fathers. The only difference between them was that
her father tried to make up for being worthless by throwing money and gifts at
her.

"At
least he's rich," Carla said with a sigh as they drove off.

"Money
doesn't buy happiness, Carla; you remember that, because people that tell you
otherwise are full of shit."

They'd
argued about the merits of a rich worthless father over a poor worthless father
on a number of occasions so Carla changed the subject. "Where's this
exclusive party taking place tonight then?" Over the course of the four
years they'd been friends Scarlett had taken her to just about every bar in New
York, as well as a significant number of the town's elite homes.

"I
told you, that's my secret until we get there," Scarlett said with a
laugh. "Trust me; this will be better than any of my surprises so
far."

She bit
back a groan at her friend's answer. The last time she'd heard that line they'd
ended up on some rich guy's boat, travelling to Jamaica for the weekend. The
trip had been great, but for her having to watch Scarlett wrap herself around a
guy she barely knew while she tagged along, that hadn't been much fun.

Keeping
her mouth shut, Carla watched the scenery go by until they drove into Highland
Park. Whomever Scarlett's friends were, it was clear to her they had money, and
she gasped as they pulled up the cobblestoned driveway in front of a
white-washed brick mansion that had her eyes widening. "Who owns this
place?" Carla wanted to know. "It's like something from another
world."

"Jason's
definitely a different breed." Scarlett giggled at some insider joke as
she opened the door and got out of the car.

"Jason?"
Carla laughed, the house before her was far more modern than the beautiful
mansion in her favorite movie, Gone With The Wind, but it was definitely
something to look at.

"He's
a friend of my new, um, friend," Scarlett said with a wink.

By friend Carla
knew Scarlett meant lover, unusually though, she hadn't met the latest man in
her friend's life.

When a
tall handsome man walked out the front door of the house and descended the
steps to take Scarlett's keys, Carla couldn't help but whistle. "Color me
impressed, he has a valet to go along with the fancy house. What are the
chances of him giving me a job?"

Scarlett
shook her head at the surprise her friend displayed for something which was, in
her experience, fairly normal, and handed over the keys. "Trust me, hon, I
don't think you're the type of girl to earn money from Jason, then again…"
she trailed off.

Carla
turned to stare at Scarlett as the implications of what she had said penetrated
her brain. "You mean he pays women for…" she cut off what she had
been about to say, partly because she didn't want to suggest that someone her
friend knew was that kind of person, and partly because the front door had
opened just then to reveal a butler in a tuxedo.

The sight
of the man made her eyes widen, it was clear to her that Jason, whoever he was,
had far more money than he knew what to do with if he could afford to employ
someone just to open the front door.

"Good
evening ladies; if you would kindly follow me." The butler waited until
they had entered before shutting the door. He then led the way across the
polished marble tiles of the foyer.

Carla and Scarlett
looked at each other, barely suppressing their laughter at the stern expression
on the man's face, as they followed him over to the door he held open for them.

The room
they entered was huge, and boasted a wooden floor that had been polished to
perfection. In the center was a massive table, adorned with a pristine white
cloth and covered with dishes containing every food imaginable. Fragrant blooms
nestled among the huge sterling silver platters, while at the near end bottles
of champagne, surrounded by crystal goblets, awaited opening.

"This
is definitely some setup," Carla whispered, wondering why they were the
only two there, when it was apparent the feast was meant for many more.

"Jason
likes to go all out when he is accommodating guests." Scarlett grinned.
"Now where is that date of mine?"

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