Caribbean Crossroads
Read Caribbean Crossroads Online
Authors: Connie E Sokol
| Caribbean Crossroads |
| Connie E Sokol |
| Theoklesia, LLC (2012) |
New college grad Megan McCormick just got dumped. Hard. Swearing off men and relationships, Megan is coaxed into performing on a cruise ship where she meets the star performer, Bryant Johnson. Handsome and charismatic, he looks like trouble, but she can't deny the intense attraction between them. Urged to find a wife and run the family lumber business, Bryant is torn between his family's expectations for his life and his own. However, when he meets spunky, but love-skittish Megan McCormick, settling down doesn't look so bad. Just when Megan begins to trust again, and Bryant makes some big decisions regarding his future, her former fiance returns with a malicious surprise, taking Megan and Bryant to their own CARIBBEAN CROSSROADS.
Connie Sokol is a mother of seven, a national and local presenter, and monthly TV contributor to KSL’s “Studio 5”. She a former TV and radio host for Bonneville Communications, and newspaper and magazine columnist. She has authored Motherhood Matters, Faithful, Fit & Fabulous, Life is Too Short for One Hair Color, and Life is Too Short for Sensible Shoes. Her newest book, Caribbean Crossroads is now available on Kindle. For podcasts, video segments, blog posts and more, visit www.conniesokol.com.
CARIBBEAN CROSSROADS
by
Connie E. Sokol
Copyright 2012 Connie E. Sokol
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.
Published by Connie Sokol
Kindle Edition
License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
To my fabulous and hilarious family, who gives me unintentional yet continual writing material. And to all talented, clean romance writers everywhere for their gift and inspiration.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
The blind date was late.
Megan sat on the edge of the couch and glanced again through the window, watching and dreading the promise of another awkward evening. She moved her tennis racket to check her watch. Five more minutes, and counting. Dates got a max of ten minutes wait time, no exceptions. But why even wait? This tennis date was another one of Jillian’s ideas, not hers. Then again, it was still better to trust a well-intentioned roommate than her own intuition right now.
Through the window a movement on the opposite balcony caught her eye—a group of animated college students headed toward the stairs. The perk of many apartment complexes at Nevada Groves University was the fishbowl square, allowing each apartment—at a glimpse—to know their neighbor.
Who was that? Was it… Megan jerked forward, a quick dread filling her stomach. Could it be
Jackson?
She carefully noted the gait and size—no, it wasn’t him. Not supermodel enough, just a blond guy with Jillian and jolly company. Megan exhaled, relieved, and automatically plied the tennis racket strings with her fingers, straightening the small squares. Unbelievable that after all he had put her through, she could still react to the possible sight of him. Megan sat up and took a deep breath. That was six months ago and she was a whole different Megan now.
Wasn’t she?
The chatting group moved down the stairs, laughing and talking like they were at a cocktail party. Jillian led the pack with all the confidence of a congresswoman. Megan frowned. She used to have confidence too. Before …
Nope. Not going there.
The small herd of people now headed toward Megan’s apartment. A few minutes later the door burst open and the crowd of people crammed in, throwing out greetings—“Hey Megan, lookin’ hot,” and, “Are you getting stood up?” Finally, a throaty “Hi, Meg,” from Damon, who looked her up and down in a way that made her wish she had dressed in a muumuu.
She turned away from him.
Men.
Jillian entered last, talking to another coed in a too excited tone—the kind of tone that usually meant work. As in, “Let’s put on a benefit concert to raise $100,000” or, “Let’s save the blue dung beetle and fly to Africa for a rally.” Megan braced herself.
“Megs, you’re still here,” said Jillian.
“Not for long.” Megan checked her watch again.
Jillian funneled the group to the small kitchen while she wrapped her straight blonde hair into a French knot at her nape. “Come on, Megs, it’s Robert Gentry. What if he just got a flat tire?”
“He’ll have to carry a spare next time.”
“You’re ridiculous. But glad you’re here, we need to talk.” Jillian tugged Megan’s arm and with the new girl, stepped into the tiny hall separating the front and back of the apartment.
“It’s no, whatever you’re pitching this time,” said Megan.
“Okay, this is big. Very large. Supersized.” Jillian stood close, ignoring Megan’s words. “Are you listening to me? Focus. We need you, this very summer, in fact right now …
to take a cruise
.” She smiled triumphantly.
“A what? You mean, go on a trip?”
“Yes—sort of—but better than that. You get to”—she paused dramatically—“perform! And,
you get paid
, just like me!”
“What? What are you talking about? Perform? Summer cruise star is your gig, not mine.” What was Jillian thinking this time? Megan was definitely not the glam performer type.
Jillian and the new girl bobbed their heads. “You’re perfect. You’ve done this kind of thing before, and you’re athletic, and enthusiastic—okay, decently enthusiastic when you’re not in a severe depression which is, thankfully, just about done. And you are almost done with it, right? See, you’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
Megan stared at both girls. “Jillian, you know me, that’s not my forte. I mean, I did some dancing a few years back, and one singing group, but it was completely cheesy stuff.”
“That’s perfect! That’s all we do is cheesy stuff—lots of makeup, big hair, cheesy moves. They already have the main people doing the hard stuff. We’re sort of the ladies of Vegas with the big headdresses.”
“But fully clothed,” the new girl clarified. “It’s a family-friendly tour.”
Megan shook her head. “No can do. If I want to go full-time with the temp agency I have to start the hours next week.” Another watch check—two minutes to go. She looked back at Jillian, more like a sister than her own, and almost smiled. Oh, to have her carefree attitude about life! When would that come back to her, or would it ever?
“Megs, come on—that’s not a real job.”
“It’s safe.”
“What’s happened to you—where’s my old Megs? She would have jumped at the chance.”
“Well, the Old Megs was a pushover. Welcome to the New Megs who is done with the looks-good-on-the-cover opportunities.” Jackson came unbidden to her mind and she quickly pushed him out.
Jillian put her hands on her hips, intimidating in the small hallway. “Megs, it’s a
temp agency
. She can get a fill-in for you, that’s what she does. Besides, we don’t leave until Tuesday.”
Tuesday! “Jillian, NO—I seriously don’t think that word is in your vocabulary.” Megan felt between laughing and yelling. “Do you know how many of these things you’ve roped me into? The dancing bear for the hospital kids? Blowing up two-thousand balloons, with a broken tank? My lips were sore for a week. No, Jillian, this time I won’t be reeled into your next big project.”
“No, no, no,” said Jillian in a soothing tone. “This isn’t about me, it’s about you—getting outside of yourself, serving others.”
Megan made an exasperated sound. “You really need to run for office. I can’t believe you’re even asking me this. Used to dance, can you please hear what I’m saying? I’m done with humiliation, on all fronts.” How could she help Jillian understand? It all seemed so simple to her. She was happy-go-lucky, in love, and bent on getting Megan
out there
, meeting people and “back in the scene.” Because, of course, that’s what you did with formerly engaged girls who got dumped by their fiancé. What would Jillian truly know about that? She was sky high with Derek, at the beginning of the Love Roller Coaster with no idea how that ride could end.
Jillian pouted. “Now you’re safe
and
sorry.”
And staying that way, thought Megan. “Making me mad will not get me to say yes.”
“How can I then?”
“Promise me that all my troubles will go away and I’ll come back deliriously happy.”
“Done. Look at your life. You just graduated, you’ve got no serious prospects, and your spring contract is almost up. And seriously Megs, a cruise ship. Don’t you remember me talking about the gorgeous men and awesome food? I met Derek, didn’t I? And you, in this state of couldn’t care less how you look in a swimsuit—not that it matters, as you look sickeningly great—I ask you: if that doesn’t define bliss, what does?” Jillian switched to a pleading tone. “Listen, it’s absolutely the chance of a lifetime. Marla is out with mono and we are in need—”
“—desperate need—” added the friend.
“—and you don’t even have to audition, I’ve already spoken for you. Trust me, people would give their eyeteeth for this opportunity.”
Megan felt the beginning of suspicion. She wasn’t the best choice by far. Why were they so intent on her? Clasping the racket to her chest, she leaned back against the narrow hallway wall. “People giving their eyeteeth, huh? Why not ask
them
?”
“Because we need it signed today.”
Pause.
Megan looked between them. “And?” she said slowly.
“And … you’re the only one we know that we like.” Jillian’s eyes pled.
“And who has the cash,” said the new girl.
“Cash? I thought I got paid.” Megan looked hard at Jillian, who gave the girl a look and turned back with a shrug.
“You have to put down a deposit. Non-refundable.”
“How much?”
“A thousand dollars.”
Megan shook her head and began walking away.
“No, listen for two seconds,” Jillian said, grasping her arm. “It’s for plane fare to Florida and a costume deposit, which is reimbursed—absolutely. And, you get paid six thousand dollars for the three months’ work—dancing, Megs,
dancing
.”
Megan plucked at the small string squares. She could care less about the men offerings or “chance of a lifetime,” but the logistics were compelling. A summer spent on a cruise ship and getting paid for a few dances, compared to a dead-end but steady paycheck that had nothing to do with her degree. And then there was not going home for the summer, dealing with Jackson. And Kara. It was a no brainer. She had no other job offers in the wings, but that was her fault. For the past year all she’d done was the agency job and, of course, cleaning the guys’ apartment part-time. Her stomach twisted. For the last six months she hadn’t been planning a career, she’d been preparing for a future, one that didn’t look at all like now. Still, past experience with Jillian showed that anything could happen, especially if that anything was inconvenient, frustrating, or unexpected. And it usually was.