Georgia Beers - Slices of Life

SLICES OF LIFE

2012 by Georgia Beers

ISBN (10) 0-983-27584-X

ISBN (13) 978-0-98327584-8

This electronic original is published by Brisk Press, Brielle New Jersey. 08730

Edited by Linda Lorenzo

Cover design and layout by Steff Obkirchner

First Printing: October 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author or the publisher.

Novels

Finding Home
Mine
Fresh Tracks
Too Close to Touch
Thy Neighbors Wife
Turning the Page
96 Hours
Slices of Life

Anthologies

Outsiders

Georgia Beers

www.georgiabeers.com

When I started writing this novella, I made the mistake of thinking that a collection of short stories would be easier to write than a novel, that it would zip along quickly. Oh, how wrong I was! Jumping in and out of the lives of eleven different characters was infinitely more difficult than I expected. So, as you can imagine, this book is a bit of a departure from my usual work, and I appreciate the patience and encouragement all of you showed. My readers are the best. I hope I dont let you down.

Thank you to Susan and Carrie at Brisk Press for being the easiest, most laid-back people on the planet to work with. When I told them this was going to end up being a novella rather than a full-length novel, they didnt bat an eye. They just said, Okay, lets do it. And just like that, youre reading it.

One of the biggest mistakes an author can makein my opinionis to think she has nothing left to learn about her craft. Linda Lorenzo edited this book with a gentle hand, explaining each correction to me in detail, helping me to understand and learn to make the proper changes to my work. I was a good English student in school, and in my forties, Im still learning. For that, I am eternally grateful.

My dearest friend, Steff Obkirchner, never ceases to amaze me with her artistic abilities. Not only is she my most amazing proofreader (or Queen Nitpicker, as I like to call her), but she also designed both the cover and the trailer for this collection. I owe her big.

Ive never been a part of a writers group before. I never wanted to be. I always thought having a group of people evaluate my work would do nothing but depress me, so I avoided it. But since my group started meeting a year ago, I realize how wonderful and important it is to spend time with like-minded people. So thank you to my Cool Chicks: Joy, Nancy, Tracy, Jess, and Karin. Your support means everything.

Finally, but never last, my Bonnie. I am not the easiest person to be partners with (hard to believe, I know). I can be selfish, moody, insecure, solitary, and just difficult in general. But Bonnie knows all of this about me, understands it all, and she loves me anyway. Becoming instant parents to a teenager is enough to throw anyones life into chaos, and ours was no different. In the process, weve found some interesting things out about ourselves and each otherboth good and bad. Weve argued. Weve disagreed on how to handle things. Weve had moments of bliss when weve realized we did something exactly right. Its been an emotional rollercoaster, but through it all, weve tried our best to stand together, and I think were doing a damn good job. Thank you, my love, not only for your unconditional support of my career, but for sticking with me through the good and the bad, the annoying and the awesome, the heartache and the elation. I know I dont always make it easy, but Im so glad to have you standing solidly by my side, holding my hand. I love you.

Acting like some kind of weird atmospheric vacuum, the navy-blue pinstripe pantsuit sucked all the breathable air out of the room. Jenna could feel her own struggle for oxygen as Christine Davis breezed in like she owned the placeshe didand carried herself as if no other woman could look quite as stunning in that navy-blue pinstripe pantsuit. Probably true.

Ms. Buckner, she said absently to Jenna as she retrieved her messages from the little turnstile on the counter. Good morning.

Good morning, Ms. Davis, Jenna replied, equally nonchalant.

Weve got Sal Farelli and his crew coming in at nine thirty. Please make sure we have fresh coffee and pastries in the conference room before then.

Yes, maam.

Davis didnt look up from the pink message slips in her hand as she headed down the hall toward her enormous and expensively appointed corner office. Jennas eyes followed her retreat, glued to the gentle swaying of slim hips and the sharp cut of a set of calf muscles that were very, very well acquainted with a bicycle.

God help me, she muttered under her breath.

God thinks youre a hopeless case. Roberta McKenzieBertie to mostshared the Davis and Fichter, Attorneys-at-Law front-desk area with Jenna. She locked her purse in the bottom drawer, set a medium double-double coffee from Tim Hortons in front of Jenna, then plopped into her chair, donned her headset, and patted her carrot-top hair into place. She sipped from her own cup before she continued. How many times do I have to remind you that lusting after your boss gets you nowhere? Hmm?

Apparently, a few more.

Were you this stubborn in grade school too?

Youll have to ask my mom.

Okay, lets try again. Bertie ticked off her points on her fingers. Its inappropriate, for starters.

Yeah, yeah. I know.

Secondly, it distracts you from your work.

Jenna furrowed her brow. You think so? I might have to disagree with that one. She was totally playing with Bertie now.

All right. How about the fact that shes taken. Jenna made a face and gave a dismissive wave. Bertie glared for a second, then went on. Oh, yeah, and theres the whole thing about it being inappropriate .

Jenna laughed at that. But have you seen her?

I have. She does nothing for me.

Spoken like a true straight woman.

It was Berties turn to laugh as she clicked open her e-mail. Seriously, hon. You can look, but you cant touch.

Yes, Oh Wise One, Jenna said, as if she hadnt already touched. As if she hadnt been touching every Tuesday and Thursday night for the past two months. As if Christine Daviss head wasnt snug between Jennas thighs a mere eight hours ago. She glanced at Bertie, half-expecting her to see the aura of guilt that must surround Jennas entire form. What color was guilt anyway? Black? Red? But Bertie continued on with her e-mail and Jenna was apparently aura-less.

Nobody knew. Nobody. Not Jennas best friend, Michelle. Not her parents. Nobody at the office. Not a soul. Christine wanted it that way, said it was safer. Jenna was too preoccupied with the mind-blowing sex to stop and ask the obvious question: Safer for whom?

Mind-blowing. That wasnt even a strong enough description. Earth-shattering, maybe? Limb-melting? Jenna hated to think of herself as the kind of person who had a one-track mind, but when she was alone with Christine, her hormones went whacky. All she could think about was stripping her clothes off and letting Christine have her way with her body. All other coherent thought seemed to flee from her brain.

Christine Davis wasnt conventionally pretty. She was actually rather plain, with the exception of her eyes. Her straight, brown hair was cut simply in a short, practical bob which she tucked behind her ears by habit. Her skin was clear and smooth and generally devoid of makeup. But her eyes were ice blue, such a light shade that they almost seemed clear, at times nearly transparent. When Christine Davis looked directly at you, she could make you squirm purely because of the color of her eyes.