Live and Love Again Read online




  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Other Bold Strokes Books Titles Available via Amazon

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Even after three years, Sarah Jarret struggles every day with the death of her long-time partner. Her tough exterior and extreme independence has made her almost completely isolate herself, but Sarah may finally be beginning to get herself back together. Her small custom furniture building business is showing real potential and forcing her out of her comfort zone. And Jessica Whitney, a beautiful and successful Chicago architect, just walked into her life. Jessica and Sarah are immediately attracted to each other, and they fall fast and hard, but Sarah’s guilt and pride may push Jessica away and keep Sarah from opening up to the possibility of new love.

  Live and Love Again

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Live and Love Again

  © 2016 By Jan Gayle. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-518-3

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: January 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s 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.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Gabrielle Pendergrast

  Acknowledgments

  Kate Horsley, author, teacher, mentor, and friend. Thank you for your support and encouragement. Christie DeVaul, my ideal reader. You are an amazing sis-in-law; thank you for being the first to read my stories. Kim Emerson, author and publisher. I would have never believed in my story without your positive words and assistance.

  Dedication

  To my beautiful wife, Jules, who always stands beside me.

  Chapter One

  The long, winding line moved forward, and Sarah stepped closer. She felt the muscles in her shoulders and around her neck tighten. Her hands grew moist with sweat, and her heart rate increased. Only three people separated her from the tall, skinny podium. With her ticket and identification in hand, she was as prepared as she could be. Besides, she told herself, they were only TSA agents—poorly trained and underpaid—amateur airport security.

  Sarah hated airports and flying. She wasn’t scared of flying; she just hated the process and the anxiety it caused her. The events of 9/11 had put in place mostly ineffective security measures that added a whole new level of stress to traveling. And Sarah’s previous active duty military experience made the process even more frustrating, because she knew how truly inadequate the security measures were. She even had a major run-in with some TSA agents in the past. On a return trip from Albuquerque to Phoenix, she had gotten frustrated with them after they ran her bag through the metal detector for the third time and still wouldn’t let her open it so she could show them that the offending object was a metal tin of cookies, a gift for her niece. The angrier she got, the more they examined her items until they nearly made her miss her flight—all over some stupid cookies. Comforted by claiming as much control over her experiences as possible, she gave herself an excessive amount of time to get through those lame security procedures.

  It was just now five in the morning, and Sarah had already been up for an hour and a half. There was a chill in the air when she left her house in Chandler to drive the thirty minutes to the Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. She had been waiting for the cool mornings for several weeks now. This was the reason she stayed here. That and she didn’t believe she could leave—even when the hot, dry summers dragged on into November.

  The cool she felt when she left hadn’t warranted the lined trench coat that lay over her arm, but she knew she would need it before the day was over. When she dug it out of the back of the closet late last night, she was relieved she had kept it. The weather in the greater Phoenix area rarely got cold enough for a jacket of any kind, let alone a big winter coat. Also, a formal coat was really not practical for her. In the last five years, she could count on one hand the number of times she had worn anything but jeans or maybe the occasional pair of slacks. She even had to spend last weekend in a crowded, stuffy mall to get the suit she wore today. She coaxed her friends Patricia and Christine to go with her to make sure she didn’t buy pants that were better suited for a 1980s disco—the last time she had paid much attention to clothes—than an important business meeting. Christine was a lawyer and wore suits every day, and Patricia just had a great sense of style. Although she caused them much consternation in the process, they outfitted her quite well, but the impact to her wallet was far greater than she had expected.

  Despite the fact that Patricia said everything fit her perfectly, her suit coat was as constricting as a straitjacket across her shoulders. Her pants felt so tight she feared sitting, and her feet were already sore after only wearing the heels for a couple of hours. Even so, she felt professional and…tall. That was exactly what she was going for—the professional part anyway. She knew from experience that feeling the part was half the battle in pulling it off. This is a good move. It’s exactly what I need. If only I didn’t have to go through airports to get there.

  Sitting at the gate, waiting impatiently for the moment when she could get on the plane and relax, Sarah pulled herself upright against the back of the chair working hard to look like a professional. Because what she really felt was that heavy, dragging feeling that comes from not getting enough sleep. She was hoping she would sleep for the three and a half hour flight to Chicago. For once, she had granted herself a rare luxury, a first-class upgrade. She was confident this trip was going to be a success, and she would make a little extra cash. It was odd to think she might have extra money, something that had eluded her lately. She realized she was lucky, because she always had what she needed, but there were some pretty close calls over the last couple of years.

  While she waited, two agents approached the counter in front of Sarah’s gate and went through a routine of turning on computers, flipping through papers, and moving velvet cables. Sarah got up and moved slowly toward the gate, rolling her small carry-on bag behind her. With her upgrade, she’d be a part of the first to board. Then she could find her seat and get ready to snooze even though she most likely wouldn’t be able to get too comfortable in her business suit. And there would be no time to freshen up before her first official meeting with Meyer Furniture Design Incorporated, scheduled for two this afternoon. Several weeks of long hours, both in the workshop and in front of her computer preparing for this meeting, had kicked her butt. Sarah had wa
nted…needed to stay busy though, so she didn’t mind so much. Keeping busy was the only way to avoid thinking about the past, to keep grief at arm’s length, to not feel how empty those arms were now.

  Sarah’s attention was drawn away from the agents when she heard that familiar clicking sound of high heels on a hard tile floor. The two men in front of her turned their heads, and they all stared. The woman moving in their direction wore a midnight blue dress with a matching, perfectly tailored jacket. The dress’s hem fell high on her thigh, accentuating her shapely, long legs extended by high, black leather heels. She stood tall, carrying an expensive leather briefcase over one shoulder and pulling her carry-on bag behind her. Sarah backed up slightly to let her pass and caught a scent of her dark, subtle perfume as she breezed past toward the counter.

  While Sarah was distracted, the agent called for first-class passengers to board, and she found herself at the end of the premiere passenger line. She didn’t mind so much. She was fascinated with this woman and wanted to observe her for just a moment longer. Her beautiful olive complexion was flawless and highlighted the perfect deep red tone on her lips. Her dark chocolate brown hair was pulled up loosely. A few wavy strands escaped and were lying against her elegant, long neck. Sarah knew she was staring, but she didn’t stop herself. That type of allure was hard to deny. For a second, Sarah imagined her legs wrapped around this woman. She had worked hard to not fantasize about sex with straight women. It only led to frustration, but the thought passed through her mind like a breeze as she watched her.

  “Good morning.” Sarah heard the woman greet the agent, who didn’t look up when she spoke. “Please give me your full attention for just a few moments.”

  The agent glanced over at her companion and shrugged, and then cocked her head to look over her glasses. “What is it?”

  “I purchased a first-class ticket. Just now at the automated check-in machine, this ticket was printed.” She held up the ticket and continued. “Perhaps you could take just a minute and print the correct ticket for me.”

  The agent grabbed the ticket and examined it. “I think first-class is full.”

  “I’ll wait here until you can resolve the problem,” the woman said with no emotion.

  Sarah squirmed a bit when she heard the exchange between the two women. She was slightly concerned about her own seat. She paid the extra money for the first-class ticket just this morning using the machine at the ticket counter. Suspicious of automated systems, she worried she might lose it to this lady. Sarah had never trusted those automated systems. That machine could have given Sarah someone else’s seat. It didn’t matter how hot this woman was, Sarah was not giving up her comfortable seat—not today.

  The agent pushed a few buttons and within seconds produced another ticket. She handed it to the passenger without looking up.

  “Thank you so much.” The woman paused. When there was no response from the agent behind the counter she continued, “It seems you’re having the same kind of morning as I am, but I believe the day is about to get better for both of us.” She turned, and with heels clicking, she filed in behind Sarah.

  The agent looked up, and Sarah saw her smile for the first time all morning. Sarah was somewhat amazed at how things worked out. It never seemed to be so simple and easy when something like that happened to her. She could tell the woman was clearly accustomed to getting what she wanted.

  Sarah settled into her window seat, and much to her surprise and delight the dark, good-looking woman took her place in the seat next to her. As she sat down, Sarah was no longer in a position to stare without being seen, but she couldn’t help notice her thin, sexy legs as she settled into the comfortable first-class seat. Sarah enjoyed talking to new people, but the thought of talking to a woman so stunning sent a tight feeling of panic through her chest. She fumbled with the seat belt trying to think of something to say. She was so absorbed in thought that she was startled when the flight attendant, who had been hovering over them, spoke. “What can I get you to drink?” Several coach passengers were standing in the aisle waiting for the flight attendant to move. Sarah hated how they always tried serving the first-class guests drinks while the coach passengers were still boarding.

  “Mimosa and a Pellegrino with a lime, no ice,” the woman rattled off.

  “And for you, ma’am?”

  “I’ll just have water.” The flight attendant nodded and moved quickly back to the galley to fix the drinks. The flow of passengers resumed.

  The woman turned to Sarah and sighed. “I hate these early morning flights, but I had no choice today. I have to be in Chicago before two. My name is Jessica, by the way. You have wonderful eyes.”

  “Thank you. I’m Sarah. Me too. I mean…same exactly. I mean…I have to be in Chicago at two also,” Sarah stammered as she looked into mesmerizing eyes so dark they looked like little pools of ink. She caught herself staring and looked down at her lap.

  “That’s an interesting coincidence. Why do you have to be in Chicago?” Jessica began setting up her laptop.

  The flight attendant returned with their drinks. “Ma’am, your water and, ma’am, your mimosa and…” Just as the attendant bent to hand Jessica her mimosa, the Pellegrino slid off the tray and splashed all over the bottom of Jessica’s dress, her legs, and her shoes.

  “Oh no, ma’am! I’m so sorry. I’ll get some towels.” The flight attendant squealed with big eyes and arms flailing around. She nearly dropped the tray on Jessica’s head as she tried to pick up the glass and lime.

  Jessica touched her on the shoulder. “It’s okay. Relax.”

  “No, ma’am, it’s not. I’m such a klutz. I’ll get taken off of first-class.”

  “That’s ridiculous. It was an accident, and it was only water.” Jessica looked up at the attendant while she was still moving aimlessly. “Just bring me a towel and another Pellegrino after you’ve served the other passengers. It’s fine.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She somehow gained her composure. She returned immediately with the towel and another glass of mineral water.

  “Thank you so much.” Jessica wiped her leg and dabbed at her dress. “It will be dry in just a few minutes.” She handed the towel back to the flight attendant. “It’s going to be okay. What is your last name, Jean?” She read her name tag.

  “Matthews.” She looked confused.

  Jessica opened her iPad and jotted a note, and then glanced at Sarah who was silently observing the event. “There was a little unexpected excitement. Now, what was I saying? Ah, you were about to tell me what you were going to be doing in Chicago.”

  “You handled that so well. She was afraid you were going to yell at her.”

  “What good would that have done?”

  “Exactly.” Sarah pondered a minute. “Yeah…ah…I design and build custom furniture, and some of my designs are being considered for production and retail sale. You?” Sarah was torn between her desire to snuggle up in the corner and the desire to get to know this gorgeous woman sitting next to her.

  “Really? I mean, that’s wonderful. Tell me about what you design and what you build.” Jessica flashed a white smile, and Sarah was no longer torn or tired.

  “Oh no. Wait, you didn’t tell me what you do.” Sarah teased her a little.

  Again, that smile. “I’m an architect, and as much as I would prefer to be designing, somehow, I’ve worked myself into a position where I sit in meetings with old, fat men winning contracts, leaving me very little time to do what I love.” She shrugged. “Back to your furniture.”

  Sarah loved to talk about her work, but she rarely found someone who genuinely wanted to hear about it. She often caught herself explaining in great detail the quality of different types of wood and quickly losing the interest of everyone around her, but Jessica seemed truly fascinated. Sarah started with the big picture. “I own and operate a small, custom furniture business. I build pretty much anything from tables and bookcases to cabinets and bedroom sets. That’s what pays the b
ills.” She stopped and saw that Jessica was listening intently so she continued. “But what I really love is designing one-of-a-kind wood art.”

  “I would love to see some of your work. Do you have photos I could look at?” Jessica closed her laptop and slid it back into her briefcase.

  Sarah pulled out her own small laptop and opened the presentation she had prepared for today. “I was recently…discovered.” She laughed.

  Jessica pulled Sarah’s laptop over to her own tray table and stared at the screen. “This is wonderful. Absolutely amazing. You do this all yourself?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who are you showing this to, and is it for sale?” Jessica was examining each piece.

  “Don’t look too closely. I’m afraid you’ll find a flaw.” But Sarah knew each piece was perfect. “The owner of Meyer Furniture Design saw me at an art show. I traveled up to Santa Fe this spring for a show just to see how my work compared. I had designed a unique and modern dry bar for a customer last winter, and he let me take it to the show. Bryan Meyer, the owner of the company, saw me at the show and wanted to buy the design to reproduce and sell in his stores.”

  “I can understand why he would be interested.”

  “I wasn’t sure at first if I wanted to sell it to be mass produced. It was built to be a custom piece, but when he offered me the possibility of a contract for more designs, I really couldn’t turn him down. I can make ends meet building custom projects locally, but I couldn’t resist the security of his offer. And it would give me time to design more. So that’s why I’m going to Chicago—to show him these designs. Hopefully, I sell these pieces and get a contract for more.”

  “Sarah, you’re an amazing artist.”

  “Thank you. I’ve never really thought of myself as an artist, but I like the sound of it.” Sarah was beginning to feel a little embarrassed at all the attention. “So what about you? Are you from Phoenix or Chicago?”