Smokin' & Spinnin'

Read Smokin' & Spinnin' Online

Authors: Andrea Miller

BOOK: Smokin' & Spinnin'
3.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A N D R E A  B . M I L L E R

Copyright © 2013 Andrea B. Miller

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 0615808042

ISBN 13: 9780615808048

LCCN Imprint Name: abm Publishing Company

Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

For Mark, thanks for believing in me
long before you knew what I was up to
.
And, your undying support. I love you!

For my girls, you were the driving
force behind this project. You will
never know how much I love you!

Prologue

I slam my car into park so violently it causes my Honda to shake and jerk. “Son of a bitch!” I exclaim to no one. I am so mad that I cannot breathe. I try desperately to drag air into my lungs as I watch her walking into his house. It is almost midnight. This cannot be happening to me.

As she disappears through the doorway, I shakily reach for my cell phone as all the missing pieces start to fall into place. Brooke was right, but if she knew, who else knew? The phone rings in my ear, bringing me back to reality. It rings once…twice…then three times!

“Damn it, Brooke! Pick up!”

Then suddenly, “What the hell?” Brooke snaps as she answers the phone. I can tell she is aggravated, but I don’t give a damn. I gasp, thankful that she did take my call at this time of the night. “Whitney!” Brooke calls out again when I don’t respond.

“Were you asleep?” I finally manage to say.

“No, I am going over depositions on a new case. What’s the matter?”

I take a deep breath. “You were right!”

Brooke doesn’t miss a beat. “I told you those shoes were terrible with that dress. I hope you can take them back!”

I laugh, although this is far from funny. “This isn’t about the shoes,” I say calmly.

“Well, it’s hard for me to keep track sometimes…”

“Him! You were right about him.” I cut her rambling off.

There is a disturbing silence before Brooke hisses, “Nooooo!”

“I saw with my own eyes,” I say calmly.

I hear Brooke gasp. “What are you going to do? Do you need me to come there?”

With that statement, I realize in an instant that I have only one true best friend in this world. And I know exactly what I must do.

“No!” I say coolly. “I will be in Charlotte tomorrow before the sun goes down…”

Chapter 1

“M
om, I will be fine,” I promise. I see the tears begin to sparkle in my mother’s eyes. Thankfully, my Dad interjects. “Jillian, she needs to get on the road. She has a long drive ahead of her.”

“I know, I know,” Mom replies. “Whitney, I just feel like you’re running away!”

I laugh out loud. “Well…I guess I am. And I would have left at midnight if it hadn’t been for you.” There is no need to dance around it. I have got to get the hell out of here. I need some space from this small town, a new start, a new place, and definitely new people.

“What am I supposed to do?” Mom exclaims.

I take her hands. “Mom, all you have to do is call Jessica and tell her to cancel everything. There is still plenty of time.”

She nods, then exclaims again, “And what if he calls?”

“I will handle that!” Dad interjects again.

I turn and smile warmly at him. “Oh, he will call. I have blocked his number from my cell phone. So, he will be scrambling sooner or later,” I say with a sigh. I know that my dad will take care of it because I have nothing to say.

My dad gently places the last bag in the trunk of my car and shuts it firmly. “That’s all, baby girl.”

I have everything I need, which are basically the necessities, clothes and cosmetics. I give my dad a huge hug, and his monstrous embrace envelops me. Tears prick my own eyes. I fight them back as only I know how. I never let anyone see me cry, not even that bastard! It is a defense mechanism that my dad burned into my brain from early on. “
Tough, Whitney. Be tough
.” I remember my Dad’s words. “
Emotion is a sign of weakness
.”

I break the embrace with my dad and turn to my mother, who now has tears flowing freely down her cheeks. We embrace as she says sweetly, “I love you, Whitney!”

“Call us, please, as soon as you arrive,” Dad says. “And absolutely no texting while driving!”

“Yes, sir, Sgt. Parker,” I joke as I stand at mock attention and salute. I have learned to take orders from my military father well.

I jump into my Honda Accord, plug my iPod into the auxiliary cable, and wave goodbye one last time to my parents, who are now embracing each other in the driveway. I sigh. Here goes nothing…I am approximately six hours from Charlotte, North Carolina. My new home. I’m excited yet anxious as I set out on I-95 North out of this sleepy coastal Georgia town.

I press the shuffle button on my iPod, and one of my favorite songs from an ’80s hair band comes up. I swear my iPod has a sixth sense. This is a good omen, though. I switch over to the aptly named playlist “’80s Big
Hair.” I settle in to travel along with some major rock ballads and try desperately to think of what’s ahead and not what I am leaving behind.

The past twelve hours have been pure hell. Within a blink of an eye, I have gone from actively planning my own wedding to packing my bags to get the hell out of Georgia. Thanks to Brooke, I am escaping, and relatively no one knows (or probably cares) where I am headed. I prefer it that way. Everyone in my life, except my parents, of course, have aided and abetted the recent implosion that is my life. I shake my head at my thoughts. Nope, I am leaving that all behind, back in Georgia where it belongs.

As soon as I cross the North Carolina state line, my cell phone begins to ring. The caller ID lets me know that it is my best friend, Brooke, or as I like to call her, my partner in crime.

“Where are ya, babe?” Brooke asks with excitement singing in her voice. She lives in Charlotte; in fact, I will be subletting her apartment since she has recently gotten married and moved out of the city.

“Patience, please!” I say. “I am crossing the state line, won’t be long now!” My excitement is equally radiating, or it could be my nerves rattling. I am not sure which.

Truthfully, I have never made a snap decision like this in my life. Maybe that is why my nerves are beginning to overtake the excitement of it all. But I had to get away, move on, and the opportunity to move to Charlotte seemed like the perfect escape even though running from my problems makes me look like a total coward. I don’t give a shit what anyone says, though. I am done. I take a deep breath and grip the steering wheel tightly.

Brooke has been begging me for years to move to North Carolina with her, but I wouldn’t even consider it. Now is the perfect opportunity to move to Charlotte to get away from the mess in Georgia. I sigh
to myself. Brooke is my one true friend. She has worked out all the details to help make this transition a smooth one after all I have been through. My mind drifts again to the last few hours of my life. It has been utter turmoil. I feel the familiar sob catch in my throat. No! No! I halt that journey down memory lane. I will not go there. That time of my life is over and done. Those memories are not allowed in North Carolina. I chastise myself again.

The drive is long, tedious, and boring. I am comforted only by the music that wafts through the speakers of my car. Oh, and the comical South of the Border billboards that are every mile it seems. Jeez! I arrive in the heart of Charlotte during midafternoon traffic, before sundown, as promised.

It is my goal to get settled in my apartment and start my job search on Monday. I plan to hit the ground running. With this economy, it is harder than ever to find a job, especially right out of college, but I am confident. Failure is absolutely not an option, and neither is moving back to Georgia.

Brooke has given me explicit directions, and I find myself at the apartment complex without any problems. I feel a huge sense of relief as I reach the door of apartment 34C. I unlock the door, and Brooke is waiting inside for me!

“Oh my God!” she shrieks as she jumps up from the couch to greet me. She is so over the top, but I do
love
her. She has been my rock. She grabs me in a huge, consuming hug, suffocating me with her thick blonde hair.

“Hi,” is all I can manage in return.

Brooke is beautiful—with long, slender legs for days—tenacious, and successful. She totally has her shit together. I, on the other hand, do not. Brooke is close to achieving partner status in her law firm, while
I am just starting my career.
Thanks to you know who
. I am in total awe of Brooke, which makes me feel inadequate too. My thick, mousy brown hair is pulled back in an untidy ponytail, and my river-blue eyes are red and tired from the exhausting drive. And let me not mention the few pounds that I have gained thanks to the recent turn of events in my life. I have got to get myself back in shape, I vow. I hate to feel uncomfortable in my own skin.

“I just can’t believe that you’re finally here!” Brooke squeals again. She begins to show me around the apartment.

“Brooke, I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me,” I say.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Whit! Please! You are helping me, remember. I can’t handle a mortgage and a lease payment.”

I smile. The apartment is small but very comfortable, and I already feel at home. It is a one bedroom, with a huge kitchen with a center island that opens to a great room. The apartment is flawlessly decorated with southern elegance, which is totally Brooke’s style.

“OK, I have to get back to the office. I will be over in the morning. Then, Matthew and I will come back into town for dinner tomorrow night.”

Matthew is Brooke’s husband. A lawyer too, he has moved Brooke out of the city and into the suburbs of Charlotte. Hence, my new digs.

“You call me if you need anything in the meantime. OK?” Brooke jumps up and down with excitement. I laugh at her theatrics. And with that, she is gone with the same flourish.

Other books

First degree by David Rosenfelt
The Worst of Me by Kate Le Vann
Cyrus by MJ Fields
Bonereapers by Jeanne Matthews
In His Shoes by K.A. Merikan
The Matter With Morris by David Bergen
Coroner's Pidgin by Margery Allingham
Colouring In by Angela Huth
Prince of Wrath by Tony Roberts