Unexpected Chemistry: Smith & Guy University, #5

By Tessa Frank

Ever failed at love?

Watzi Singh has a line of bad relationships behind her. Enter Leland Daniels, a hot young lawyer. Sure she's just his cleaning lady, but she's not going to let scrubbing toilets hold her back.

As new love begins to heal old wounds, someone's need for revenge threatens Watzi with more than another failed relationship.

Can Watzi overcome her own past to love the one man who truly sees her?

Unexpected Chemistry is the final book in the Smith and Guy University series. It's time to unmask the blackmailing hacker intent on destroying the lives of both Edee and Watzi.

College is way more than just studying. Pick up your copy today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tamara Ruth
• Release date: Mar 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386733294

Book preview

Chapter 1

True love stories never have endings.

~ Richard Bach ~

Hot sweat beads on my brow as I crunch forward, straining. The nurse beside me yells for me to Push! My tears of pain and sorrow are mixed with the sweat. I’m glad there’s not a mirror in the room. I don’t want to see my face. Not right now. Not as I birth a dead baby.

From somewhere outside myself, I hear a woman’s scream. The sound cutting through the huffing noises of my constrained pushes. I don’t want it to be dead, my mind pants in time to my breathing. I want my baby. I gave up everything for my baby.

Another scream rips, jerking me with its sharpness.

Please don’t let this be happening. Not again.

But the spasmodic pains clenching tight across my belly that travel around to my back aren’t stopping. They’re getting worse, I sob, my breath catching in little hitches.

It’s all going to be over soon, sweetie, Edee’s Grandma Rosie tells me. She’s standing tall beside me, brave enough to hold my hand through each contraction. It’s all going to be over soon.

No matter how many times she repeats it, I know she’s lying to me. This will never be over. Never.

The physical pain will end but the pain that grips my chest in a vice and squeezes until I can barely draw in air will last forever.

Grandma Rosie shakes me slightly. Come on honey. You have to let the baby out. Stop fighting it.

She’s been listening to the doctor again. I glare at him, my eyes slits of malevolence. The loss of a heart beat triggered this horrific mess. Induction with pitocin, forcing me to go into labor.

You have to expel the fetal matter, he said without compassion. He barely looked at me during the ultrasound. Now he stands checking the monitors and whispering to the nurses about me.

He doesn’t understand. Grandma Rosie doesn’t understand. Losing the baby was the end of everything for me. What reason would I have for even living now?

Another scream. This time it registers. I am the one screaming. My body tightens, the muscles coiling like the rage that wraps itself inside me. I curl forward nearly biting my lip.

The doctor rushes between my raised knees. That’s it, Watzi. That’s it. One more push.

Even if I’d wanted to stop, my body was acting on it’s own, outside of my control. Like so much of my life.

The scream came with the next contraction, overwhelming me.

The head’s out. Watzi, you’re doing good. One more push and it’ll be all over, the doctor says.

I know I’m sobbing, tears coursing down my cheeks. I hadn’t wanted this baby until it was too late. I demand that my body stop. Please stop. Don’t do it. Please.

My body doesn’t listen. Not that I actually expected it to. Instead it coils and heaves, pushing me into a curl. There’s a burst of something. Relief? I can’t tell exactly. I flop back on to the mattress of the hospital birthing bed, breathing as if I’d run the fastest mile possible.

It’s out, Watzi. The doctor’s voice barely breaches my mind. I’m so worn out.

Stop calling it It. What is it? Grandma Rosie demands.

The doctor hands a lump to a nurse who deftly wraps it into a blue, green, yellow, and pink striped hospital blanket. A girl.

I can hear the gasps of anguish. I know they’re coming from me. I can do nothing to stop them.

The nurse hands me the bundle of blankets. A small, perfectly formed face looks out at me. Her eyes closed, never to open. Her mouth a perfect little bud, never to suck milk. Even her body is coated with a fine fluff. The nurse tells Grandma that she would have lost it had she made it to term.

Term. I’ve lost my baby after the half-way point of an unwanted, unintended pregnancy. Twenty weeks after I learned I was pregnant, I am no longer.

As I hold my perfect little girl, touching hands that I will never hold or see grow, for the first time I admit how much I did want her. I didn’t know that I did, but I did.

And then the door to the delivery room bangs open. My father, red-faced with spittle flying from his mouth yells, You worthless whore. You spread your legs to a lazy American boy. This is your judgement. You deserve this.

Again I tell Daddy how sorry I am to disappoint him. It does no good. He keeps yelling, telling me that I have failed my family. Shamed them. And then he says that I am worthless as a woman. Unable to have a baby. What good are you? You’re worthless. You should be the one dead.

As he glares into my eyes with the hate I had not seen reflected there before, my mind jerks, rejecting the image. My eyes snap open to see the pale white ceiling above me.

My hand touches my flat, empty belly. A belly that has once again resumed it’s pre-pregnant appearance. I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Walking to the window, I pull the curtain aside to gaze out at the rising sun.

Another day, I whisper the words. Then I let the curtain drop. Sun light brings no happiness. The only moments I feel real are when I dream of my baby. My precious little girl. I grab my towel and container of shower supplies. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last eight months, no one even sees my pain.

Chapter 2

My weakness was chocolate, but now it’s you.

Shower done, I walked downstairs and into the little 1950’s style kitchen. The painted white cabinets and sausalito tiles were original to the house, much like a lot of it. Despite it’s age, this four-bedroom adobe rental, located two short blocks from campus, was awesome. I couldn’t complain. I loved the house and the privacy it granted.

I set a little cup into the coffee machine; picked the strongest setting. Coffee had become my best friend. Between the demands of SGU, a cleaning side job, and living in a house with three roommates, well, I didn’t need to be suffering from bad dream induced insomnia.

The machine spit out the final drops. Liquid energy. I took the cup, poured its contents into a larger mug and added generous amounts of sugar and cream. I may need the coffee for the caffeine, but I wanted the taste knocked down. Like a lot.

My first sip was interrupted when Edee threw open the back door with a huff. Hey. She looked up from untying her running shoes.

Just a note here about runners: never refer to their running shoes as sneakers. That’s not a good thing. A fact I learned the hard way.

Morning, I croaked.

Yum. Smells good. I’m looking forward to a cup after I shower.

Nodding slightly, I asked, Good run this morning?

Edee shucked her running shoes into a bin by the door. Pretty good. The weather is already starting to turn. Tomorrow I’m going to wear a long sleeve shirt.

Edee left the kitchen. I set the coffee machine up. She’d only need to press a button when she returned. Pausing in mid-setup, I wondered why I was making the effort. Partially I knew.

We got the rental through Grandma Rosie. Her best friend from high school decided to tour the world via cruise ship after her husband died suddenly. Grandma Rosie found out at the funeral. Next thing we know, we’ve got a rental house with steeply reduced rent since we were also house sitting. Or at least Grandma Rosie was.

Probably more important than the rental, my life had been turned on it’s side too many times over the last year and a half. A failed arranged engagement. I’d been relieved since my ex-fiancee was a womanizing jerk. My father, however, was furious. He still felt the bonds of the Sri Lanken social structure of his youth.

I dodged a bullet on the engagement only to make things worse. I dated Edee’s ex, a sociopathic loser who raped and stalked her. Granted, I did not know that when I started dating him. I learned too late.

I did help the police build a case against him for the creation and distribution of porn. That gave me the opening I needed to fix Edee’s broken relationship with Adam, her boyfriend turned fiancé.

It looked like everything was going to be fine, except for me being pregnant out of wedlock to a porn producer. But, I mean, hey, no one is perfect, right?

Edee waltzed back into the kitchen while these thoughts were floating around my head. To this day I did not understand why she came to get me when my parents kicked me out. Nor did I understand what compelled her parents to let me live with them for months after I lost the baby and could have returned to school.

Because they knew you didn’t have anywhere else to go, silly.

I jerked at her words. Edee tilted her head. You do know that you talk aloud a lot, don’t you?

What? I gasped in strangled horror. How much did you hear? I mean, what did I say?

Edee checked out the coffee machine, saw it was ready, and pushed the button. Seriously Watzi, it’s like every thought you have has a direct connection to your mouth. You’re actually worse than me.

Given Edee’s reputation for blurting out exactly what she thinks, having her call me on such an action was alarming.

And, honestly, my parents adore you. Grandma Rosie too.

What? What are you saying about me? a gravelly voice asked. Edee’s grandmother shuffled into the kitchen in a brilliant blue robe and house slippers that had seen better days. Like probably three years ago.

Edee leaned against the kitchen counter, her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail. You adore Watzi.

Grandma Rosie made an unpleasant noise. She waved her hand at her butt. Sorry ‘bout that. Morning farts.

The smell quickly filled the room. I bent over the sink to reach the latch on the window and crank it open. Edee went to the back door and pushed a rock into place to hold it open.

You need to lay off the beer at night, Grandma. That stuff makes your toots awful in the morning.

Bah. They’re farts. Call ‘em farts. She took Edee’s freshly brewed cup of coffee and sipped. Ah, that’s the stuff. She eyed my large mug. You drinking any coffee with that milk of yours.

Grandma laughed then took another sip of Edee’s coffee. Edee didn’t bother to tell her that she’d stolen her cup. Instead she got busy making another one.

I smiled at this morning routine. As much as having people around nearly constantly could annoy, this interaction between Edee and her grandmother always amused. It also left a little stab in my heart for my own family. Well, for my mother. I missed her all the time. Watching Edee and her grandma argue with each other every morning, I felt a little bit a part of a family.

To us. Grandma raised her cup. We’re the women who are going to take on the world.

Edee winked at me, turning to look at her grandmother. You’re gonna try yoga again today, aren’t you?

Damn hussies at the center can’t make a play for my man and get away with it. Grandma shuffled back out of the room. Edee and I hid our smiles and giggles behind our cups.

Chapter 3

In one kiss, you’ll know all I haven’t said.

S o what’s on the agenda today? Edee asked, sipping coffee and examining the calendar on her phone.

Harper walked in, hand up over her mouth to hide a yawn. Morning.

Sleepy head, Edee whispered.

I knew from having watched the two of them for months that their’s was a strong friendship going far beyond the surface of my own. Watching Edee tease Harper, who always gave it back in some way, left me longing for a close friend.

Harper didn’t bother with Edee. She went straight for the coffee. I watched as she stood with her nose over the machine like she might be able to breathe in the caffeine.

Classes and then I need to call Mildred. She says we’ve got a new client.

Mildred is a little old lady I met at the Burger Joint the night my parents kicked me out. A night known as Christmas Eve. But Mildred was there, cleaning away. She gave me a job. At the time, she told me it was her way of helping me care for my baby. When I lost the baby, she kept me on anyway.

Under her tutelage, I’ve become pretty adept at cleaning homes and offices. Now that I’m back studying at SGU,