Tension (40 page)

Stella and George enjoyed their uninterrupted time together, even if it was just a day in Montana. They flew back to DC together and walked hand in hand to George’s SUV. As they walked, Stella felt peaceful and thought things seemed perfect, or as close to perfect as they could get. Finally. George opened the back and threw in their bags and then followed her to the passenger side of the SUV, leaning around her to open her door.

Stella winked at him. “Thank you, sir,” she said as she slid into the seat.

George got in and they made their way to GW Parkway. Stella reached across the seat and picked up his hand, kissed it, and then pulled out her phone and called Millie to tell her they were almost home. Millie told her they’d bring Cooper to George’s house.

“What are you thinking?” George said.

“I’m thinking this might be the most relaxed I’ve felt since I’ve been shot. My testimony’s done, Jamie’s gone, and I have a job. Things are too good.” Her body soaked in the last words as pinpricks ran over her scalp.

“Love, things are going to be fine.” He put his hand on top of hers.

“I worry,” she said simply. He understood and said nothing. “Fine doesn’t really happen to me.”

When George took a right onto their street, he hit the brakes immediately.

“What the fuck?” Stella said as she saw her car, which the police couldn’t find in Atlanta, parked in front of their house. George eased off the brakes and pulled slowly into the driveway. Stella called her dad; maybe he had it delivered here.

“Dad, hey. Yeah, I’m back.” She listened. “Yes, sir. Listen, did the police call to tell you they found my car?”

She looked at George and shook her head. “Okay, Dad, let me call you back.” Stella threw her phone back in her purse. “George,” she whispered. Dread crept through her body in spurts; it started at a tingling in her brain and now spread throughout her back.

“Stay here,” George said, getting out of his SUV and walking over to her car. “It looks fine, El.” He leaned over the car and tried to open the door; it was locked.

Stella reached over and pulled George’s keys out of the ignition. She opened the door and started walking to the front door.

“I’ve got an extra set in the house!” she called to George, who had his hand over his eyes and was peering into her car. She unlocked the door and was about to open it when Patrick and Millie pulled up. Stella pushed the door open and turned to see Cooper bound up the stairs. He jumped up and put his front paws on her chest, forcing her backward. Her legs bumped against the box of clementines sitting in the entry of the foyer, where George had hastily moved it before he left for Montana. She fell backwards as her legs caught on the box. Cooper leaned over her and licked her face. “Fuck, Cooper. Stop it.” Cooper continued to lick her face and she sat up, laughing, and gave him an ear rub. Her laughter caught in her throat and she saw the note on the box.

I thought I’d bring these to you since I know you like them so much. Enjoyed your testimony. We’ll talk soon. J

Her entire world tilted and seemed to stop as fear traveled all over her body. She burst outside. Patrick, Millie and George looked up at her from street. It was as if she was watching her body from above. Stella jumped down the three steps from the front door, running and screaming.

“GET AWAY FROM THE CAR! RUN!”

I know, I know…I hate cliffhangers, too. When I began writing this book, it was the conclusion of Stella’s story, but then my mind took off and I couldn’t finish her story in this book. There was just too much to go through and this book just wrote itself, if that makes sense. I’ve already written a good bit of Book Three and it is the end. I’ve written THE END. I promise I will make book 3 worth your while as readers and I apologize profusely for the awesome cliffhanger. You can cuss me out here:

http://www.goodreads.com/rlgriffin

http://www.twitter/RLGriffinauthor

www.facebook.com/rlgriffinbyathread
or

[email protected]
.

This book wrote itself and I was so scared that it would disappoint people who read
By A Thread
. Thank you to each and every one of you who read
By A Thread
and wanted more, making you read this book. It has been such an amazing experience to talk with people about the book from South Africa and Ireland. I want to travel to both of those places just to meet and have a drink with Michelle and Emma. A big thank you goes out to all my BaT ladies. You know who you are. Michelle, you have rocked my world with all the pictures you’ve done.

I want to thank my support team that read Tension and helped so much to work out the nuances to make it better. I honestly like this book the best so far. First of all, my sister and parents were round one reviewers of this book. They have been so supportive. My mom has actually read this book more than I have! She’s getting really good at telling me to change things, especially endings. I could not possibly have gotten this book finished without any of them. Kelei has been imperative to this process and hopefully I can pay her back sometime over our lives. If not, she got robbed.

Second round included my close family friend Jill Hester who read
Tension
. I knew she would be awesome at beta reading and telling me the little things that needed to be corrected. Also, she and I like the same books, so I trust her opinion explicitly. Jill thank you so much, your comments were amazing and exactly what I needed to make Tension better. Emma Corcoran, my new best friend, you are the reason I publish books. It’s hard and my feelings get hurt every once in awhile, but having a reader who loves the same books I do, loves my art so much that they let me know and get to know me is amazing and I really appreciate everything from your cheery audio messages on Facebook to your catch as a beta reader. Magda Periera, Mags, thank you so much for taking the time to read
Tension
and give me feedback. You’re help was much appreciated. Also, thank you for your daily pictures on Twitter, they keep me entertained. Becky Penar, don’t think I forgot you. You’re my last round of my peeps before I let
Tension
go off to the masses. Start the circus music. Thank you.

Lastly, the people who deal with the book when I’m finally ready to let it go (which is very difficult by the way) and make it into what the readers see. These people are so important. Erin Roth is my editor extraordinaire and worked with me making sure we caught every typo or grammatical error that either I or my mother missed. (My mother is an English teacher). I hate editing so Erin makes the words better, which in turn makes my story better and I greatly appreciate it. My favorite comment she wrote during the editing process was “you can do better.” She was right. Lisa DeSpain, OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS LADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t tell you how nervous I was when I gave her
By A Thread
and she made the process from getting from a word document into a book so painless. Lisa, you are the epitome of awesome. Thank you. Ms. Georgina Brooks rocked my world with this cover y’all. Who knew she would be able to pull off Stella’s tattoo? I didn’t. She is fantastic and I’m hoping to get to Australia to meet her sometime.

Now, to the people who make marketing my books fun, I forever appreciate the pimping from Juewelz at SMI Book Club, Ana at Ana’s Attic Book blog, Amber at The Reading Corner by Amber, Desiree and all the lovelies at A Love Affair with Books, Amanda from Globug and Hootie Need a Book, Ria from A Bookish Escape, Donna from The Romance Cover, and, last, but certainly not least, Yari and all the babes at Books, Babes and Cheap Cabernet. You ladies rock and I honestly appreciate it every time you mention
By A Thread
. I also love having conversations with all of you on Twitter or Facebook. As for the #hoetrain, which I’m an honorary member, I promise to never use the word “mound” in a sexual way. You’re welcome.

Lastly, to the most important men in my life thank you for making my life beyond what I ever imagined it could be. My kid is honestly the coolest character I’ve ever met. He keeps me on my toes. Trey, you are everything to me and I love you more than I could ever express in words.

Please enjoy the following excerpt from

Eventually I’ll get to the bar, hopefully before last call but at this rate my chances are looking slim. I should have done what Marg did and ordered two drinks knowing how busy the club would be on a Friday night but I didn’t. I’m sweaty from dancing with my girls in the throng of people crowding the dance floor. Without warning my hair is swept off my back and over my left shoulder. Hanging to my shoulder blades, it’s hot and heavy, the movement creates a breeze on my neck that feels good but who the hell just touched me so intimately? I stiffen as warm breath blows over my shoulder.

“Could I interest you in a drink?” Comes a deep, rough voice in my ear. I swing around shooting steel daggers and find myself eye level with a broad chest. Tilting my head back I look up to an extremely handsome, tan chiselled face.

“Excuse me?” I snap. He smirks. My snarky inner bitch already hates him.

“I’d like to buy you a drink.” His deep vibrato sends chills down my spine which surprises me.

“Oh?” I quirk a well groomed eyebrow at him.

“Yes, what would you like?” I want to smack the smug look off his face. I hate arrogance and entitlement, and this dude oozes it.

“I’d like to not be manhandled by a stranger.” I snark.

“My apologies, but I’ve been watching you and I couldn’t resist.” He steps closer to me.

“Creepy.” I quip taking a step back. Mystery man reaches out grabbing me at the elbow.

“Let me get you a drink.” He pleads a little more sternly.

“Why?”

“Why not?” He questions looking amused.

“Persistent aren’t we?” My voice is laced with disdain.

“Yes. I’ve been called that.” He grins. His eyes lighten slightly with his smile. He really is attractive.

“Give me one good reason.” I offer sarcastically. The corners of his mouth drop and his brows furrow.

“You intrigue me.” He says finally.

“That’s hardly a
good
reason Mr...” I snort and wait. His lips twitch.

“Mr. Napoli and I’d like to get to know you Ms...” He counters.

“Lord. Ms. Lord. You don’t know me but I can assure you I’m stunningly average in all areas of life.” I inform him.

“I beg to differ.” He argues. Man this guy is relentless and totally hot for himself. Anyone who
thinks
so much of themselves must be a catch, I snicker to myself sarcastically. Stepping in close to him I place my hand on his hard chest and smooth his tie with my hand. Who wears a suit to a club anyways? He grins at the contact and his eyes go dark as if I’m his prey. I fist the tie and tug gently until his tall firm frame bends to my five foot four level and bring my mouth to his ear. “You can differ all you like but only I know the truth.” I purr. Releasing his tie I turn on my boot heel and stalk back to my girls fuming about that stupidly hot, ‘I’m so full of myself I could get any girl and I will’, jerk. I plop down in my chair irritated and start ranting.

“Remind me why they don’t offer clubs that only let women in?” I ask sarcastically. Two dolled up ladies stare at me wide eyed. “Uh...what?” I ask noticing their faces.

“Do you have any idea who you were talking too?! What did he want?!” Marg screeches.

“He wanted to buy me a drink and who the hell is he?” I bark back.

“Clara... do you live under a rock? That’s
Dominic Napoli
, real estate mogul, one of Boston’s ten most successful businessmen under forty. Didn’t you read the article I emailed you?” Amanda looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. I did read it, but I read it because she wrote it, I didn’t really absorb or pay attention to the photos or why those guys were worth reading about. She knows I could give a crap about rich men.

“I guess I skipped his bio?” I shrug still not sure why it’s
that
awesome that I met him. Sure he’s successful but I don’t care about money and prestige. I’m not that into appearances and mingling with the
right
people. Been there, done that.

“Ladies. Mr. Napoli sends his regards. Please enjoy the wine.” The bartender interrupts us placing a very expensive bottle of white wine on the table with three glasses.

“Man what a jerk!” I cry in frustration.

“Shut up Clara.” Amanda hisses horrified. Marg ignores me and dives into the wine.

“I told him I didn’t want a drink from him and what does he do? He does it anyway. This,” I gesture to the wine, “is sneaky and backhanded. Now it doesn’t matter if I said no, he’s made it look all good natured. Pompass ass.” I ramble my irritation.

“Shut up and drink.” Marg laughs.

“Fine, but it’s consumption under protest.” I state and relax a little. What I really want to do is strut over to that cocky jerk and hand him his bottle of wine back while giving him a piece of my mind. What part of, no means no, is so hard to understand? Icona Pop’s
I Love It
starts. This is my jam. I flat out love this song and I immediately jump up, snag the bottle of wine, leaving both girls screeching and hit the dance floor. Shrugging at each other Amanda and Marg follow and the three of us jump around shouting the words to the song and shaking our hips.