Treasure Hunter

By K Elliott

The exquisite Ava Harrell has one goal—to live a life of luxury by any means.
Ava has luxurious taste in champagne, clothes and cars, but very little money. She’s determined to make it to the top by any means. Her voluptuous body and her expensive clothing make her a sex siren and men drool over her, wanting to take care of her.
Ava goes through a series of rich men to put herself in the position she wants to be in—from drug-dealers to corporate business types. She has all of them eating from the palms of her hands.
Ava becomes really close to a big drug-dealer Mario, who not only splurges on her, but trust her to count his money. Money comes up missing and all eyes are on Ava, Ava had planned to travel the world but Mario believes that she has crossed him and is now in pursuit of her..
Will Ava get to enjoy the life of luxury she has always dreamed of, or will she face an early grave?

• Language: English
• Publisher: K Elliott
• Release date: Jan 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476048277

K Elliott

K. Elliott, aka The Well Fed Black Writer, penned his first novel, Entangled, in 2003. Although he was offered multiple signing deals, Elliott decided to found his own publishing company, Urban Lifestyle Press.Bookstore by bookstore, street vendor by street vendor, Elliott took to the road selling his story. He did not go unnoticed, selling 50,000 units in his first year and earning a spot on the Essence Magazine Bestsellers list.Since Entangled, Elliott has published five titles of his own and two more on behalf of authors signed to Urban Lifestyle Press. For one book, The Ski Mask Way, Elliott was selected to co-author with hip-hop superstar 50 Cent. Along the way, he has continued to look for innovative ways to push his books to his fans while keeping down his overhead. Not wanting to keep such valuable experience to himself, Elliott did two things.First, in 2010 he forged his vision of low-cost publishing by in 21 Black Street, an eBookstore to mirror a traditional African-American themed bookstore - except it could totally cuts out a publisher's printing costs.Second, Elliott created the Well-Fed Black Writer, a blog for authors to find life-hacking tips for more efficient, effective self-publishing. The Well-Fed Black Writer includes podcasts, video and blog posts, all to help aspiring authors turn their manuscripts into publishing success stories.

Book preview

I would like to acknowledge The Most High Mom and Dad,

Margaret and Walter Douglas, and all who were positive in my life.

I would like to dedicate this one to my siblings Mark, Brandy, Crystal, United we stand, Navigating our way through this really difficult thing called life.

Much Love to you all.

From Big Bro.

CHAPTER ONE

Ava Harrell was a pretty girl. The kind of girl who wore makeup but didn’t need it. She had always been considered very attractive as far back as she could remember. She had been Daddy’s Princess, and the nickname stuck – both her father, David, and his brother, Mike, used to call her that. But just before her sixth birthday, her father separated from her mom. Though they had been married for ten years and had tried to make things work out, they had never really been into each other. In fact, they had very few things in common. Ava’s mother, Patrice, had been a socialite from a middle-class family, and her father was from the ‘hood’. He had loved Patrice from the very first time he saw her, which he had made very clear to her from the beginning, but she didn’t want anything to do with him. Still, he persisted. He was so nice to her. He spent his hard-earned money from both of his jobs to buy her expensive jewelry and clothing. She finally grew to love him, but she had never been in love with him.

The day they separated and David left the family home, Ava had cried uncontrollably. He kissed her and told her he loved her and promised to spend time with her every other weekend while trying to work things out with Patrice. But Patrice was adamant that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and a year later, Patrice’s boyfriend, Gerald, moved in.

An ex-con, Gerald didn’t waste any time around Ava and began to touch her inappropriately. When Ava complained to her father, he vowed that he would kill Gerald, and a year later, he caught Gerald coming out of a pool hall on the north side of town and shot him eleven times, taking his life. David was on the run for two weeks before being apprehended, and he was later sentenced to life in prison.

Ava was eight by that time, and she didn’t see her father again for ten years. Her mother had refused to let her go see him, and she never gave her the letters he had written to her.

When Ava was sixteen, however, she stumbled upon boxes of letters David had written to her over the years. She wanted to keep in contact with him, but she also wanted to make sure her mother never found out. She wrote to her father about her dilemma, and David arranged for his brother, Mike, to get her a P.O. Box near her school so she could receive his mail that way. From that day forward, Ava stayed in touch with her father and her uncle Mike. Ava was very happy to be back in touch with her father, but she often felt lonely and sad without him. She wanted to spend more time with her father, and she also felt a deep sense of being left out because there were many things she wanted to do that she couldn’t afford to do, as her mother was the only provider. She couldn’t afford to hang out with the other girls, nor could she afford to buy the nice clothes they wore, so she often felt inferior and began to spend a lot of time alone.

Perhaps because this loneliness, she started thinking of ways to get out of her predicament, and she soon began dating older men – Sugar Daddies, to be specific.

Lucas was her first Sugar Daddy. She started seeing him when she was eighteen. He bought her a car, paid for porcelain veneers for her teeth, and bought her expensive jewelry. David had learned from his brother about this older man and tried to stop her from seeing Lucas because he worried that Lucas would take advantage of her.

Actually, Lucas was four months older than David, but Ava had lied to him and said Lucas was forty-two when he was actually forty-seven, twenty-nine years older than she was.

Ava was never attracted to Lucas, but she knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and she liked that about him. She was a princess, after all. But, she didn’t like his demands for sex. He looked gross. Lucas was overweight, and his teeth were a yellowish-brown color, which surprised her because he’d spent so much money fixing her teeth; she wondered why he didn’t improve his own appearance. He also had problems with erections, even with Viagra. She hated it when he was able to get an erection because he always breathed heavily, like a bear, when they had sex. His grunts and moans always left her feeling disgusted after it was over.

After David realized that Lucas was Ava’s Sugar Daddy, he was upset, but he accepted it because there was very little he could do for his daughter while he was behind bars. His brother Mike had his own family, and there wasn’t much he could do, either. Besides, when Ava turned eighteen, she began to visit her father twice a month, and he was always happy to see her.

Things went well for Ava until Lucas had a heart attack and died at the age of fifty-one. The next guy to take care of her was Terrell, a drug dealer who was later busted and then incarcerated a year and half later, and then she started dating Tristan Smith, a professional football player.

She loved Tristan, but she knew she could never be with him because, though they were about the same age, so many women tried to be with him, and she didn’t want that kind of competition. She knew he wasn’t ready to be faithful, so she just got what she could out of him until he was traded.

After Tristan was traded, at the age of twenty-four, Ava was left without a man to take care of her for the first time since she was eighteen years old.

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CHAPTER TWO

While Ava stood in front of the Cheesecake Factory, waiting on the valet to bring her car around, she noticed a shiny, blue Maybach and checked out the license plate, which read NBA $. Ava had never seen this car around town before, but she figured it belonged to an NBA player, and she was going to find out the driver’s identity.

She scanned the area, looking for tall men, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like he belonged in the NBA. She thought about asking one of the valet guys, but didn’t want to seem desperate. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and called her girlfriend Shakira.

Hey, girlfriend, Shakira said. Shakira and Ava really weren’t friends; they were more like associates. She’d met Shakira when she dated Tristan; she was dating one of his teammates, but the player she was dating had been cut, and when the team cut him, so did Shakira, saying he couldn’t support her lifestyle. Ava didn’t trust Shakira, but she was cool to hang out with. But she knew that Shakira was out for herself, as with most athlete’s girlfriends.

Hey, I was just calling to ask if you know who owns a sky-blue Maybach with a personalized tag that reads ‘NBA money’ on it.

No, but I can find out who it belongs to.

If anyone could find out who the car belonged to, it would be Shakira. Shakira was a gorgeous black and Japanese girl who had been with a few athletes and had even slept with two players on the Bobcats while they were teammates. She knew all the players and their salaries and where they were from. She never dated older men. She was strictly after athletes. She loved their bodies, but she loved their money even more.

Would you check on that for me?

Sure, consider it done. Shakira said.

She hung up the phone and felt confident that Shakira would find out who the car belonged to. Moments later, a guy walked out of the Cheesecake Factory. He was about 6’7" and athletic. Ava knew he owned the Maybach. She took a quick summary of what he was wearing – he wore some expensive Bally’s shoes and an Oyster Perpetual Rolex. One thing Ava knew about was watches. She’d learned all about expensive watches from Lucas. He had more than twenty watches, all worth over five thousand dollars.

She hoped Mr. NBA $ would notice her. She felt if she could make eye contact with him, that would seal the deal. She’d have him. Men tended to be mesmerized by her eyes, and once they looked at her body, they were locked in. Her waist was 24 and her ass was 38 and round as a basketball. Her chest was small, but her tits were set up perfectly. She’d considered taking them up a size, but Tristan had warned her that would be the worst thing she could ever do because they were perfect the way they were. Every man she had been with had loved her natural breasts, so she kept them that way. Though her eyes were glued to him, NBA $ would not look in her direction. He paid the valet, who gave him the key. Then a woman appeared with a Cheesecake Factory bag in her hand. Ava looked at her, quickly assessing her. She was definitely nothing to brag about. She was cute, but not gorgeous. She had a decent body, but her nose seemed too big for her face. Ava definitely looked better than this woman, but she figured the woman had been with him before the NBA. Why else would this rich man be with such an ordinary woman?

He walked to the driver’s side of the Maybach, and just as he was about to get inside the car, he glanced in her direction. Their eyes met and held for a few seconds, and then he got inside the car and drove off. Ava smiled to herself. She could tell he had found her attractive, and she knew this was not the last time they would see each other.

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CHAPTER THREE

Ava and Shakira met at the Wine Loft. Neither of the women were big wine drinkers; it was just one of their favorite places. They liked learning about wines, because then they would be able to bring it up in conversation if and when they met powerful men. Plus, the Wine Loft had a nice ambience. They ordered champagne.

After the champagne arrived, Shakira said, I found out who owned the Maybach you saw the other day in front of the Cheesecake Factory.

Who? What’s his name? Ava said, unable to control her excitement. Her mind went back to the day that she and NBA Money had made eye contact. Then she thought about that ugly looking troll of a woman he had with him. She wondered if the woman was his wife. She didn’t really care; in fact, she actually wanted him to be married.

TayShawn Morris. Played eight years, went to Duke, and actually graduated with a degree in Business.

Ava wondered if she’d heard her correctly. Did she say

played as in he was no longer playing as in not getting an NBA paycheck anymore? She had no intentions of dating any ex-athletes because she knew most would be broke after their careers were over. She remembered dating an ex-NFL player. He was the cheapest motherfucker she’d ever dated. She’d gone out with him twice, and once he suggested that they stay at home and order Netflix instead of going to the movies, blowing money. His exact words. That was the last time she’d seen him. So he’s not playing?

Shakira sipped her champagne. Not anymore. Why?

Decided to retire and raise his kids. He’s married?

Yes.

I really don’t care about that, but the fact that he retired . . . I don’t necessarily think I should go after a has-been athlete.

Shakira placed her champagne flute on the table and said, Not so fast – he made over a hundred-and-twenty million dollars over the course of his career.

That don’t impress me. I know how fast athletes can squander their money. If he’s not broke, he probably will be soon.

Yeah, that’s true, most do end up broke, but this guy went to Duke, one of the top schools in the country. Duke athletes are a different breed. My sources say that he and a partner started a consulting firm, and he’s made just as much money in business as he did when he played in the NBA.

Ava was just about to sip her champagne, but she instead put her glass down and said, Tell me more.

He’s thirty-four and worth over one hundred-million dollars.

Wow.

But he’s smart. He doesn’t cheat on his wife; he was never one to do the whole groupie thing.

Are you calling me a groupie? Ava asked. She detested that word. The word groupie made her feel like she was part of a group of loser-type women who went after famous men. Ava couldn’t care less if they were famous.

She just wanted them to be rich and willing to spend money. She had bills and responsibilities.

I didn’t mean that you are a groupie.

Well, what did you mean? Ava sipped from her glass. She really wasn’t offended. She just wanted to make Shakira sweat a little bit.

Well, I think ‘groupie’ is a better word than ‘gold-digger.’

You calling me a gold-digger? Ava said angrily. She scowled at Shakira, who was visibly rattled. She’d offended her friend.

Ava smiled when she saw Shakira looking worried, and then she said, I’m what you call a Treasure Hunter. She gulped down her champagne and then giggled.

Shakira burst out laughing. I like that. That’s a good one. We’re Treasure Hunters. It’s a whole different breed. The women toasted each other.

How can I find this man? Ava said.

He works out every morning at the Y on Morehead. Really?

Yeah, he usually gets there around six.

Ava wondered how Shakira knew so much about this man. She loved athletes and had dated them exclusively, but she sure had a lot of information about TayShawn. Ava didn’t think Shakira had dated him because she would have told her if that had been the case. That was one of their rules. If one of them met a man the other had dated, they would disclose that fact and not date him.

So how do you know so much about him?

Rob Anderson, one of the guys I’m dating, plays for the Carolina Panthers, and he used to work out with him, but then Rob moved to Ballantyne and joined another gym.

So he and Rob are friends?

Yeah, but you can’t tell him that Rob said anything about him, because I just asked him a few questions casually, and Rob answered, not knowing that I was using him as a resource.

I would never do that.

I know you wouldn’t.

Six in the morning. Damn, I don’t know if I can get up that early, Ava said, and then she thought about how drastically her life could change if she had a man like TayShawn in her life.

Ava ordered another glass of champagne and gulped it down fast. Shakira continued to talk, but Ava tuned her out. Her mind was on the high life – luxury cars, expensive handbags, and traveling to exotic places in countries she could never afford to go alone. But Mr.

NBA Money would get her there. She pulled out her check card and paid the tab for both of them.

They exited the Wine Loft. Ava had to go home and get some sleep. She had to get used to waking up at six in the morning.

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CHAPTER FOUR

The next day, Ava visited the YMCA and signed up for a one-year membership. Then she headed to the mall to get some workout clothes. She got some extra-tight Spandex and a sports bra. She was sure she would get TayShawn’s attention. The only reason he might not look in her direction would be because he was gay, and she doubted very seriously that he was gay.

She left the mall; she received a text on her iPhone from Donavan, a small-time drug dealer she’d been seeing off and on. She really wasn’t into him. He didn’t have the kind of money that she was used to, but he would help her with her monthly bills. Plus, he was good sexually, particularly in the oral department. He wasn’t that well-endowed, but God, his tongue drove her insane. She had her needs, and Donavan was good for her – at least for now.

Donavan: Where u @?

Ava: Just leaving the mall had to pick up a few things. Donavan: Can daddy see you today?

Ava: Maybe, I have to run a few errands. When I’m done if I’m not tired, I would love to see you.

She lied. She really didn’t want to see him. She knew that he wanted sex, and while she loved it, she loved it more when he had money to give her, and she doubted if he was going to give her any money. He’d just given her a thousand dollars a week earlier, so she knew that it would be a while before he would give her more. His pettiness was a big part of the reason she preferred athletes; she’d vowed to herself that as soon as she met the right athlete or businessman, she would cut Donavan off and never date a drug dealer again unless he was the supplier. She knew suppliers would have money, sometimes more money than professional athletes. But Donavan seemed to be lower down on the food chain.

Donavan: Come on, daddy wants to see you.

Ava: I’m telling you I have to do some things for my mom. If I can get around to it, I will.

Donavan: I got a surprise for you.

Damn. He was making this hard for her. She loved surprises and wondered what he had for her. She really didn’t want to see him, but she knew that he probably had some money or at least a nice gift. She didn’t like when he did this, because as soon as he gave her the surprise, he would want sex, and that would make her feel like a prostitute because she didn’t like him like he liked her. She wished she could be more into him.

Ava: Let’s meet @ 7 at my place.

Donavan : :-)

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It was about 7:15 when Donavan arrived at her place. When she opened the door, she wore a robe, but she was naked underneath because she knew they would eventually end up having sex. It had been a long day. Her dad had called and asked her to send him some money, and she’d just paid her mother’s cell phone bill. She was stressing now, and she needed some sex more than ever.

Donavan handed her a jewelry box. She guessed that it had to be a watch by the shape of the box. When she opened it, she saw right away that her guess had been right. It was a Michelle Deco, ceramic, black, diamond watch. She recognized it immediately and loved it. She had more expensive watches, but she liked the simplicity and elegance of this watch.

Donavan smiled, happy she was impressed.

She bear hugged him.

I knew how much you liked watches, so I decided to get one for you.

Thanks so much. She hugged him again.

Really, it was nothing. One of my friends, Snake, came across some, and he sold it to me for a thousand dollars.

So, half price, she said.