Night Fever
1990. The elevator was crowded. Rebecca Cullen was
trying to balance three cups in a box without spilling coffee
all over the floor. Maybe if she learned to do this really well,
she thought, she could join a circus and go on stage with her
performance. The lids on the Styrofoam cups weren't secure — as usual. The man who worked the counter at the
small drugstore downstairs didn't look twice at women like
Rebecca, and who cared if coffee spilled all over a thin, nondescript woman in an out-of-style gray suit?
He probably figured her for Ms. Businesswoman, she
thought — some rabid man-hater with a string of degrees
after her name and a career in place of a husband and kids.
Wouldn't he be shocked to see her at home on Granddad's
farm, in cutoff jeans and a tank top in supper, which this
wasn't, with her mass of gold-streaked light brown hair down
to her waist, and barefoot? This suit was pure camouflage.
Becky was a country girl, and the sole support of her retired grandfather and her two younger brothers. Their
mother had died when she was sixteen and their father only
stopped in to visit when he was broke and needed money.
He ... read full excerpt from: Night Fever ebook
