Turnaround: Red Hot Valentine

By Cassandra Carr

Becca and James don't date. Both are in their thirties and neither has found anyone they feel is potential spouse material. Becca attends a "We Hate Valentine's Day" party at a local bar where James is bartending. He knows from the first day they meet that Becca is someone special, but Becca's more cautious. James sets out to prove to Becca there really are happy-ever-afters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C-Squared Publishing LLC
• Release date: Mar 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507097878

Book preview

TURNAROUND

by

Cassandra Carr

COPYRIGHT 2014 by Cassandra Carr

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Published by C-Squared Publishing

Cover by Cassandra Carr

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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Turnaround

(Red Hot Valentine #6)

James hung another bunch of black balloons where they wouldn’t be constantly in his way while he mixed drinks at The Ale House’s annual We Hate Valentine’s Day party. The irony of having to work this particular gig when he actually loved this holiday made him shake his head, but work was work.

Nice to have a day where it’s actually encouraged to tell your loved ones you care. Not enough of that in today’s world.

He knew he sounded like a stodgy old codger, but simply because he was thirty-three and still single didn’t mean he thought love sucked. It was more a matter of finding the right girl. James didn’t want to marry just anybody. His parents had been a great example to him and his sister and James refused to settle, even if that meant he stayed single. Doing the whole flowers-and-chocolate thing was often derided by other men, but he loved doing all that stuff. His friends sometimes made fun of him for it but, hey, most of them were still single too, so he ignored them.

Hey, James, the bar manager, Mick, said. You got a copy of the drink specials?

James held up the black sheet of paper with the annoying white script font. His graphic designer sensibilities wanted to beg those around him to stop using that particular eye-bleeding combination, but this wasn’t his primary job, where people might care what he thought of a design, and he needed this second job–for now–so he kept his mouth shut. Why can’t everyone else see how hard it is to read? Ugh.

Yep. All set. The specials, in keeping with the theme, were called things like Broken Heart and Love Hurts. Since they were expecting a crowd predominantly made up of women, most of the ingredients were geared toward them too–a lot of fruit juices and frozen drinks.

Mick called out, Opening doors, and immediately a stream of people burst into the cavernous space. Here in Austin, Texas, the temperature was in the 70s during the day and a little cooler at night so waiting outside wasn’t a big deal, but people sure seemed excited to get started on their own bitter version of celebrating.

They kept James hopping for the first half-hour or so. He was turning back toward the bar after using the blender when he spotted her. The slippery glass nearly fell from his hand and strawberry daiquiri dripped down the side and slithered over his fingers. She watched it and licked her lips.

Oh mercy.

He handed the drink, still thankfully mostly full, to the woman who’d ordered it and then grabbed a towel. Focusing his attention on the lovely vision before him, James asked, What can I get for you? Brilliant opening salvo, dude. Sure, it was his job, but he could’ve thought of something more witty than that if his brains hadn’t been scrambled by her sudden appearance.

She was clad all in black, so likely an enthusiastic attendee of this party, but there was something in her eyes that said maybe she wasn’t a lost cause. Bright red hair tumbled to her shoulders and was set off by her black, satiny top. Her skin was pale; her face dotted with freckles. His gut told him, despite her apparent distaste for Valentine’s Day, he needed to know this woman better.

She tilted her head at the drink specials menu on the bar in front of