Splat! by Alana Ankh

Author:Alana Ankh [Ankh, Alana]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2015-01-23T05:00:00+00:00

DEACON ADDED another lump of sugar to his coffee, distantly wondering what in the world he was doing here. He’d agreed to call Marissa, but he’d never intended to meet with her. Somehow, things had turned out that way, and here Deacon was, waiting for his old friend to show up for what he hoped wouldn’t be considered a date.

Then again, he’d tried everything else in an attempt to distract himself from The Dream. Nothing worked. He welcomed a change in scenery and had taken a desperate gamble that maybe seeing his old friend would help. What had he been thinking?

Deacon took a sip of the coffee, grimaced, and immediately set the cup aside. Just how many lumps of sugar had he added? The damn thing had become undrinkable.

Frustrated with himself, he felt awfully tempted to just hail the waiter, pay his bill, and flee before Marissa could arrive. Alas, he didn’t get the chance. Even as Deacon considered the advantages and disadvantages of this option, Marissa stepped through the doors of the coffee shop.

When Deacon had last seen his childhood friend, she’d been a plump teen with braces and a biting tongue that kept anyone from mocking her. She’d changed a lot in the years they’d been apart. The teenager had grown into a beautiful, graceful young woman. The stylish dress she wore accentuated her hourglass figure to perfection. When she saw him, she offered him a blinding smile, and Deacon had the idle thought that all those years of braces had paid off.

Marissa made her way through the coffee shop, drawing the eye of many a man as she passed. For a few moments, when she stopped in front of the table, Deacon almost hugged her. At the last minute, he changed his mind. He got up to acknowledge her presence and offered her a far too lame greeting. “Hey, Marissa.”

“Well, hello there, stranger,” she said, laughing lightly. “It’s been forever.”

Deacon nodded. “Fifteen years now. More than that. We have a lot of catching up to do. How was France?”

Since it was only polite, he pulled her chair out, and she smiled again as she sat down. “France was beautiful. I miss it a lot now that I’m back.”

Her voice did have a distinctive accent that spoke of her years abroad, but it was her wistful tone that resonated within that part of Deacon he’d desperately been trying to ignore—the part that remained focused on a certain, far too vivid dream. To distract himself, he inquired, “Are you going to go back?”

“I don’t know. Papa doesn’t want me to. It depends on many factors.” Marissa licked her lips and fixed him with a piercing look. “I suppose I should tell you outright that I need a favor.”

The no-nonsense quality of her voice reminded Deacon of different times, and he arched a brow, ironically more comfortable with her than before. “A favor?” he repeated.

“Maman believes the two of us are a match made in heaven. I’ve tried to explain we’re childhood friends, but….

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