Author: E.C. Jackson
Publisher: Independent
Publication Date: September 28, 2020
Pages: 241
Genre: Inspirational Romance
Two men. One wrong choice.
Tempia Wade’s life had jumped the rails.
One fateful night, she believed a stranger’s lie rather than the assurance of a trusted friend. For her lapse in judgment, she paid an agonizing price.
Her now-bankrupt life featured shattered dreams, ruined friendships, and the loss of a promising relationship. Now, two years later, the twenty-three-year-old prayed for a second chance with the man she had fallen for at first sight.
Would Cory Sanders finally overlook her egregious mistake in accepting a next-day date and liaison with another man? Or would she have to truly accept life without him?
Buy Link
First Chapter
After installing HVAC systems at a new apartment complex, twenty-eight-year-old Cory Sanders should’ve headed home, eaten a sandwich, and stretched his five-foot-eleven-inch frame onto his king-sized bed. But today he sought diversions at a friend’s pool hall. The short trek across the parking lot led him inside a large yet cozy space teeming with some of his favorite folks. As his eyes adjusted to dim lighting, he stepped up to the counter of the juice and coffee bar.
Glancing at Cory, a middle-aged woman, brown eyes alert, paused her conversation with a customer. “Wait till I tell Dan who stopped by on a late Friday afternoon,” she said to Cory. “Of course, neither he nor our sons will believe me.”
Miss Laura’s husband, Dan, had been Cory’s father’s best friend since their HVAC training program days. He and his youngest son worked for Cory’s father’s heating and cooling business, while his wife helped their oldest son, Scott, run his pool hall.
“Keep our secret, Miss Laura, or someone will demand I show up more often.”
She winked as she laughed. “If anyone asks me, I’ll say you were just winding down from a tough workday.”
Cory chuckled. “Sounds like the perfect plan,” he said. “One pomegranate slush, please. And Miss Laura, let your son know adding slushes to the juice menu was an excellent idea. If he asks, tell him to add grilled cheese, hamburgers, and hot sausage sandwiches.”
“More approval will swell his head. Thank God, he won’t inquire.”
“I bet you he’d consider those suggestions if he did.”
“Serving food ain’t happening on my watch. This mama has enough tasks without piling on more. We’ll hold off on a food menu until Scott quits his day job.”
As Cory left the counter, Miss Laura snuck in, “See you next Friday.”
While sipping his slush, Cory peered around the cavernous room and took in the lively atmosphere. Ten pool tables were strategically set up to maximize solo and group play. Walking across the space, he passed a group of men ribbing each other. A fifty-something man pocketed a ball then spotted Cory. “Lookee here. Grab a pool stick, son.”
Cory sat on a seat close to the action and pointed at the bald, clean-shaven man. “Not today. I just came to watch you masters clean the table.”
“Take notes,” another man said. “Stu left this little boy hanging in the pocket.”
With that, Cory realized he had chosen the correct diversion after all. His bed and sandwich could wait until later that evening. These lively antics might delete a tiresome woman from his mind. Last year, he had purged her from his heart, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never seem to evict her from his mind. He hoped that changing his long-established habits might help.
###
An inner battle that had begun the previous day woke up twenty-three-year-old Tempia Wade from a disturbed sleep. On her drive home from work yesterday, Tempia’s dream of magically meeting up with Cory had lost steam. Before climbing into bed, dejection had plunged her into an emotional tailspin. This morning, as reality further hit, her hopes of their celebrating the one-year anniversary of her divorce from Quince died. Many unfulfilled dreams perished at the same time. Cory, the man who had held her future in his hands, had banished Tempia from his life fourteen months ago. She couldn’t understand why he had rejected her, but it was evident that leaving an emotionally abusive husband hadn’t been enough.
For endless months, she had prayed they would cement a lifelong relationship. Vivid recollections of Cory’s constant support before his defection still provided comfort and relief.
If only she and Cory could reconnect on a personal level.
Tempia rubbed her achy forehead. Old disastrous decisions and misjudgments pummeled her psyche full force. Her ex-husband’s grievous subterfuge played through her mind again and again.
Locked on the war inside her head, Tempia squirmed on the bed until she broke the silence with her own loud sniffling sounds. Abundant teardrops streamed over her cheeks.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips into a single line. Her hands balled into tight fists. How could fourteen months spent rebuilding her life on a solid foundation amount to nothing? Pulling tissues from a box on the floor beside the bed, she reassessed yesterday’s wish that Cory would call her.
She didn’t know what to do to help herself in that moment. She might as well lick her wounds. “Let it go. He won’t call.” She stared at the ceiling. “It is what it is. I single-handedly wrecked my own life.”
Tempia’s cell phone rang as she buried her head underneath the covers.
“Rise and shine,” a laughing voice suggested. “Hibernating while I get ready for work is shameful. I adore having sunny days in early March. We could have gone shopping this afternoon if you’d told me before last night that you were taking today off.”
Tempia sat up in bed, listening to a shower spraying water in the background of the phone call. Her lifesaving best friend Gabby had struck again. This morning, the habitual late sleeper had awoken earlier than the birds just to lend support.
Tempia cleared her throat, striving to strike the proper tone. “Thank you, ma’am. I needed a wake-up call.”
Gabby laughed outright. “Why? If you were getting pessimistic, stop it this minute.”
More tears rolled down Tempia’s soaked cheeks. “I just can’t get over how badly I messed up by marrying Quince and missing my chance with Cory. But don’t mind me. Jump into the shower and stop wasting hot water.” Tempia shook her head when she heard the water shut off.
“Hope my water-conscious husband is still asleep. Temp, what person hasn’t made mistakes? We all, err, learn our lessons, then continue living.”
At some point in her existence, Tempia had thought so too. That is, until she discovered some errors last forever and won’t ever be forgiven. “Yeah, but we don’t all wreck our lives during the process and stunt future growth.”
“And neither did you, my special friend. Listen. You corrected each miscalculation. You were formally divorced one year ago today, and dating Cory isn’t a lost cause. So, get over yourself. Celebrate a great success.”
“You have a special knack for making life sound better than it is.”
“Aw, pooh. I simply discovered back in junior high how to forgive my shortcomings. Now, forget the ex. No man is worth any woman living with depression. If the degenerate does come to mind, dwell on how you kicked his butt to the curb and regained your independence.”
Tempia’s shallow breaths subsided. A weight lifted off her overburdened shoulders, even though depression hovered just above its favorite resting spot. Once again, Gabrielle Stephens proved herself to be the best person anyone could call a friend. “The best friend in the world deserves a free lunch. Can you come over around noon?”
Laughter bubbled deep within Gabby’s throat. “Noonish it is. Until then, don’t forget that you won the victory in an overdue battle last year.”
“I love you, Gabby.”
“I love you more,” Gabby replied, ending the call.
Tempia practically hugged herself and sprang out of the bed. “Thank you, Lord. I needed a shot in the arm.” Her gaze lit upon a painting of a Parisian café that hung on a wall in the living area. She glanced at the alarm clock on the end table, then crawled back underneath the covers.
Despite Gabby’s encouraging speech, past regrets immediately stole Tempia’s positive thoughts away from her considerable progress. However, she reminded herself that Gabby had made good points about her progress. After living through five pain-filled months, Tempia had launched a new beginning and risen above depression, remorse, and foolish mistakes. Yet, this morning, she couldn’t shake re-examining the life highlighted by an ill-fated courtship and marriage. Her hands gripped her beet-red blanket.
On a January evening two years ago, Gabby’s fiancé had called while Gabby and Tempia were taking in an antiques show. Lifelong friends, they undertook weekly shopping expeditions, keeping at the forefront of each other’s lives. Tempia ogled a vintage curio cabinet as Gabby removed a pealing cell phone from her purse.
“Rob said he’d brought enough work home to steal his entire weekend. He must be taking a break.” Her lips curving into a wide grin, Gabby took the call. The smile vanished. She turned around and faced the opposite direction. “Did I hear you correctly? . . . You’re right. The invitation is a huge surprise . . . Well, for one thing, you rarely redirect your evenings on short notice. Plus . . . Okay. I won’t go on. Tempia is standing beside me. I’ll ask her.” Muting the cell phone, she studied her friend. “Rob invited friends over for a game night. Wanna head over there?”
Tempia had barely stopped her hands from clapping. “Are you serious? Yes. I’d love to go.” Even though Gabby and Rob had dated for three years, none of Gabby’s friends had been invited to his house. She’d often wondered why they hadn’t met any of his buddies. Also, three of her closest friends were engaged, and most of her other pals had steady dates. Tempia was the only single person in their group. Perhaps a likely candidate would attend Rob’s party. She just had to keep up hope that a good opportunity would arise—and maybe even bring a favorable outcome.
An hour later, Gabby parked across the street from her fiancé’s house, sprang out of the car, and strolled to the passenger door to wait for Tempia. Casually dressed in black-washed jeans, an aquamarine sweater, suede ankle boots, and a black leather jacket, the five-foot-six-inch beauty looked terrific.
Her hands wringing, Tempia frowned at her own shoes and clothes. Tan flats topped off the beige skinny-leg pants, navy-and-white sweater, and down jacket. The individual pieces numbered among her favorite clothes, but she wasn’t sure the total package was right for a get-together among strangers. A soft moan escaped through her parted lips until her head hung.
The women crossed the street, climbed several steep stairs, and stepped onto the porch of the A-frame house.
Gabby eyed her. “What’s wrong, Temp? If the dominoes are already in use, there are loads of other games we can play.” She frowned when Tempia remained silent. “Listen. At least pretend you’re happy about being here. Come on, girl. You enjoy playing games.”
She certainly did—but only when secure within her safety net. “Not among people I’ve never met.” Tempia stared longingly at Gabby’s SUV.
Gabby laughed. “You can’t pray to meet new people on a lark. God not only hears our prayers, He also answers them. Capisce?”
“Kinda, sorta. Did Rob say why he planned a party instead of clearing out his workload?”
“He only said, ‘You can thank me later.’ Whatever that cryptic remark implies.”
Tempia searched her brain for any obvious reasons, then she grinned. “I’ve got it. He planned a special surprise for his soon-to-be bride.”
“At any rate, I’m half-starved. Let’s hope he catered his fiancée’s favorite foods.”
Tempia’s lips puckered as Gabby edged toward the door. She truly did want to meet new people, but trepidation was rearing its ugly head. Excitement wrestled anxiety in an uneven match. Rooted to the spot, she inspected her shoes one foot at a time before her lips turned downward.
“How do people dress at game parties? I should have gone home and changed outfits.”
Gabby’s mouth gaped. “Why? Saturdays are our days to keep it simple. I’m dressed in jeans and a sweater.”
“But we’re at your fiancé’s house. You’ve probably met all or most of the people inside. Besides, you look good in everything. And your color combinations are fantastic.”
“Coming from you, the comment is hilarious. Unless you’re admitting I’m a fashion icon.” Laughter trilled from Gabby’s lips.
Tempia glared. “Have I ever stated a different opinion?”
“Yes. Numerous times. I’ll overlook your brain-freeze moment, but I will recall each word on our next shopping binge.”
“Quit skimping on accolades. Glowing reviews require nothing less than two thumbs-up.”
Gabby was sidling closer to the door, but now she spun around. “Thank you much. The compliment is long overdue. Ready? It’s now or never.”
Tempia slung her purse strap onto her right shoulder. “All right. Bring on the introductions.”
The door easily opened when Gabby twisted the doorknob. She smiled at Tempia, then she strolled inside the house.
After another glance at her shoes, Tempia fell in step behind her friend. Loud guffaws and enthusiastic conversations met the women inside the foyer. She sneaked a quick peek at her unperturbed friend. Tempia managed to calm down when Gabby’s eyes twinkled behind her blue-rimmed glasses.
Gabby’s silent reassurance relaxed Tempia’s grip on her purse strap. She reminded herself that people let extra loose on the weekends when free from job restrictions, and she needed to keep her shunning of unrestrained behavior in check. Or . . . perhaps she should have eaten a good meal and gone home. As her ears acclimated to the constant noise, Tempia commanded her body to relax and scanned the crowd.
Probably fifteen people were spread throughout two adjacent rooms. Wherever Tempia looked, people were laughing. Suddenly, she felt like someone was watching her. Her gaze swept the room, and there he sat. The lone exception to the noise. A good-looking man dressed in camel chinos and a smoke-gray T-shirt observed her from a corner chair. It seemed his gaze had pinpointed her arrival from the moment she entered the house. Could she get a closer inspection without outright staring? Somehow, he looked vaguely familiar. A fleeting glimpse of a face she couldn’t recapture came to mind. His seemingly low-key persona immediately attracted her.
Was accepting Rob’s invitation the correct choice after all? Years of dating partygoers had compelled Tempia to reject gadabouts. She would rather be alone than coddling scoundrels and wasting her precious time. She turned away from the man to avoid his intense observation yet felt his gaze upon her back as she walked down the hallway.
She caught up to Gabby, who dropped her jacket onto a bench in the hallway and entered the kitchen. Tempia followed suit. Once inside the room, Gabby uncovered all the platters on the table and heaped deli food onto a plate. “Not my first choice, but at least there’s food.”
“I would have chosen a deli restaurant after we left the antiques show.” Her plate in hand, Tempia drew up beside Gabby. Her greatest dilemma was gathering information about the attractive man without voicing interest. “Did you recognize the guy wearing chinos and a gray T-shirt?”
Please say yes. And that he is single. Available. And a perfect fit for me.
Alertness highlighted her friend’s gaze. “Quick work. I’m impressed. Hold on while I check this fellow out.”
Gabby scurried toward the living room door then stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. A quizzical expression highlighted her features once she re-entered the kitchen. “Well, his being here is a huge surprise.” Studying her friend’s face, she hesitated. “Hold on, we just arrived, so you could have only gotten a brief glance. Are you interested in meeting Cory?”
Gabby’s perplexed reaction to Rob’s friend surprised Tempia. “Um . . . I was until your bewilderment raised a few doubts. Do you personally know him?” She continued when Gabby nodded. “Do you like him? Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Ignore my initial reaction. Cory is Rob’s cousin and one of my favorite people. He’s single and a great catch. Last month, he came alone to his aunt’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.” She picked up her overstuffed plate. “And get this: you and he share similar idiosyncrasies.”
Tempia glanced up while splashing dressing on her salad. “It’s too early in the evening for personality wisecracks. I am not an eccentric person. Oops.” Blue-cheese dressing flowed across her plate. In one smooth motion, she piled additional lettuce on top to help sop it up.
Gabby passed her extra napkins. “Yeah. You are. Luckily, Cory shares some of your quirks. Stop frowning. Frowners have fine lines etched into their skin before fifty.”
“Oh hush.” Tempia rolled her eyes.
Gabby giggled. “You know, Rob throwing this party was definitely a surprise. However, Cory’s joining us is an even greater one. I still can’t believe he came.”
“Why not? You said Cory and Rob are cousins.”
Gabby shrugged. “Let’s just agree that the reason for our unexpected summons has become clear. Who knows. We might rack up a fun night.”
Tempia licked her lips. “I pray to God we do, Gab. Time is running out for me.”
“Sheer baloney. Whoever heard of a twenty-one-year-old spinster?” Gabby’s objective gaze flitted over her friend. “Adorable as ever. Let’s hit the romance trail. Chin up, please. Look forward to your grand entrance.” Gabby scooted across the floor.
Oh boy. Tempia hadn’t gone on any dates since moving out of her parents’ house. Here’s to the next phase in my suspended life. Hope it’s more than I expected.
She matched her friend’s steady gait, and the women retraced their steps down the hallway. Inside the living room doorway, Gabby lowered her head, speaking in a soft voice. “Interesting. Your potential man changed his seat closer to Rob, plus he’s eyeing you. Get ready for a sweet introduction.” Her teasing grin lit upon her friend. “Here we go, superstar. This will only take a moment.”
As Tempia padded across the floor, she could feel Cory’s gaze upon her. She stole a quick peek. Right as ever. Cory observed her progress the entire way. Halfway across the room, she skidded on objects scattered across the floor. The balancing act to stay upright ended when she careened onto the sofa where he sat. Her salad-filled plate spilled onto his lap. Vegetables drenched in blue-cheese dressing hit his pants and ran down onto his shoes.
The sudden silence in the room spoke volumes. Tempia struggled to regain her composure. Apology ready, she hesitated.
The couple sitting on the love seat snickered in her face. “What a neat trick,” the man said.
The woman holding his hand shook her head. “What will you do for an encore? Jump up and down on one foot?”
Tempia’s legs wobbled while her heartbeat quickened. A glance around the space increased her angst. Several people playing a board game had stood up to watch. A group in the next room visibly gawked. Everyone who scrutinized her performance seemed to move around in slow motion.
The dressing-covered man directed a crushing glance at the snarky couple, making everyone go silent.
Tears welled up in Tempia’s eyes. Brushing fingers across her mouth, her hands splayed on each cheek. “I am so sorry. Please don’t hold this accident against me.” She scanned the floor behind her, identifying her trip hazard. She then looked at the man’s twinkling eyes. While Cory smiled at her, she pointed behind her back. “I tripped on those scattered dominoes.”
His mouth broke into a wide grin. “Hey, no biggie. Relax.” The seemingly composed man dumped food back onto the disposable plate.
“Bravo,” an auburn-haired man remarked. “Great response, Cory. Keep the goal in focus, man.”
As several people agreed with his glowing assessment, Tempia squashed tears and glanced at Gabby.
Perched on the seat beside Rob, Gabby’s eyelids fluttered. Since their childhood days, the friends had used rapid blinking as their steadfast support. “Cory Sanders, meet my best bud, Tempia Wade. Temp, Cory is Rob’s cousin.” Her regularly low-pitched voice raised an octave. “Momentum is on our side, folks. I dare any of you to top our grand entrance.”
Once again, Gabby made an incredible ally. Tempia refocused on Cory, stammering through another apology.
Cory winked. “The first apology was accepted but unnecessary. I’m certain you would rather chat with me than drop food onto my lap.”
He dumped more salad pieces onto the plate, then he set the plate on a side table. When he finished, the blonde beauty sitting beside him cleaned up the floor with wet wipes. More food had landed on Cory than on the tile.
“Thanks, Tina,” Cory said. “Do you always carry those things around?”
“Of course. With two small children, I keep wet wipes handy for quick clean-up jobs.”
Rising from the sofa, Cory touched Tempia’s arms. A sympathetic gaze studied her eyes, which held back fresh tears. “Don’t sweat small stuff. We’re fine. I’ll clean myself up while you fix yourself another plate.”
Tempia’s body quivered. Small bumps appeared on each arm. His soothing grin and gentle speech had won her heart. She was anchored on the pathway to a promising new adventure.
Before she could respond, an attractive man dressed in a black-and-gold jogging suit appeared by Tempia’s side, giving her elbow a slight jerk.
Cory’s gaze remained upon her face. “Think positive thoughts about me until I can speak for myself. I’ll quickly clean myself up and then sit with you while you eat.”
At that exact moment, Tempia completely fell for Rob’s cousin. He is handsome, nice, and still interested in me. Yay! Blushes that had overtaken her body diminished. Thank God she had accepted Rob’s invitation. “You’re a nice man, Cory. But I promise on this trip I won’t choose salad.”
Soft laugh lines appeared around his mouth. “Eat whatever makes you happy.” Eyeing the man glued to Tempia’s side, Cory exited the living room.
While Tempia watched Cory’s departure, the stranger’s strong grip left her elbow and fastened onto her hand. He gave a brief bow. “Quince Hightower Jones. An amiable helper at your service.”
Tempia stared at him through misty eyes. “Tempia Wade. Gabby’s clumsy friend.”
Sparkles lit his dark-brown eyes. “Sweet, honest, and delectable. I can feel the heat rising between us.”
“Didn’t you use that same tired line in high school?” said the man who had complimented Cory.
Quince glared at him.
“Sounds more like it’s from junior high,” the wet-wipe lady quipped.
Quince sneered. “Ignore the echo chamber. I’ll escort you to the kitchen, Gabby’s friend. Glad we came.”
Who was the “we” he referred to? Were other guests going on a food run with them? Tempia glanced as far as she could around both rooms, then gazed at the man who boldly studied her. His expression posed an undefinable question.
“We? Who are you referring to?” she asked.
A low chuckle rumbled forth from deep within his throat. “I adore naivety in women. Us, sweetheart. Tempia and Quince.” Squeezing her fingers, Quince led her out of the room.
About the Author
Jackson’s favorite pastime is reading fiction. She enjoys taking the journey along with the characters in the books. That also led to her unorthodox approach to story writing. Her vision for each book she writes is to immerse readers into the storyline so they become connected with each character.
“The Write Way: A Real Slice of Life” is the slogan on her Facebook author page. She feels that if every person reading her books feels connected to the characters, her job is done.
Author Links
