Take It on the Run

By Kay Harris

Grace Davies is overwhelmed by a divorce she's kept secret for months. Afraid to face her friends and family, she runs away from her sorrow, her shame, and her life. She goes all the way to Rio and falls right into the arms of the handsome, flirty Meno.

Meno Youkhana is more than willing to help a friend in need, especially one he's been smitten with since he first met her years ago. He offers her a job, a place to crash, and a shoulder to lean on. But he wants to give her so much more.

Grace may have left her designer luggage on the carousel at San Francisco International Airport, but she shows up in Rio with a lot of mental baggage. Meno wants to help her unpack, but he'll have a hard time convincing Grace he's the man for the job.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Oct 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781509222292

Kay Harris

Kay Harris has had a diverse career with jobs ranging from college professor to park ranger. Now she adds author to her repertoire. Kay writes romance novels that contain a little bit of sweet, a dash of sexy, a touch of heartbreak, and a whole lot of fun! Kay grew up in the Midwest and has since lived all over the western United States including Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. She loves to hike, is obsessed with museums, and enjoys taking her extremely tall and very handsome husband on adventures.

Book preview

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I open the little bubble with Eric’s name and photo. It’s simple and to the point. It’s official. Our divorce is final. My lawyer will contact you about the house.

I push my knees back so they will hold me up. I knew this was coming, of course, but it doesn’t take the sting away. Throughout the plane ride from Rome to San Francisco I’d had the opportunity to think about what I would do, where I would live, how I would survive. But I hadn’t. Instead, I’d stuck my headphones in, cranked up Journey, and read through three romance novels.

My gaze wanders across the departures board in front of me, mostly to focus on something other than my husband’s message—my ex-husband’s message. It lists all the cities planes are flying to and from. It seems like a person could get to anywhere they wanted to go from San Francisco.

Right now I want to be anywhere but here. Here I have to answer to my best friend, who is currently waiting in the car, my parents, who want me to be perfect, and my little sister, who is perfect. I am a wreck of a human being, with a deep, dark secret and an open, exposed wound.

I don’t want to face anyone or anything.

My eyes roam over the pixels on the screen when I see one that catches my attention. Rio.

Also available by Kay Harris

from the Wild Rose Press…

Don’t Let Him Go

Lost on the Road to Love

Just for You

Take It on the Run

by

Kay Harris

I Want Morrison, Book 4

This is a work of fiction. 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.

Take It on the Run

COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Kay Harris

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Kristian Norris

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Miniature Edition, 2018

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2229-2

I Want Morrison, Book 4

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

The best friend spin-off book should be dedicated to the best friend, right? So, Sarah, this one’s for you.

Chapter 1

Coming out of airplane mode has been traumatic for my phone. Text messages gobble up the screen. My gaze focused on the chaos, I don’t realize I’ve stopped right in the middle of the pathway at the busy airport until a stranger roughly bumps my arm. Hitching my purse up on my shoulder, I move over, closer to the departures/ arrivals screen perched high on the wall on one side of the hallway.

Candace is sitting in the pick-up lot right now waiting for me. That’s what one text message says. I can picture my best friend, sitting in her high-end sedan looking like the perfectly put-together lawyer she is, her adorable daughter, Sandy, strapped in the car seat behind her.

I need to send Candace a message back to let her know I’ve just gotten off the plane and am making my way to baggage. But I don’t. Instead I stare at another one of those messages, sent at some point while I tried to sleep fitfully on the plane, high above the real world.

Taking a deep breath, I open the little bubble with Eric’s name and photo. It’s simple and to the point. It’s official. Our divorce is final. My lawyer will contact you about the house.

I push my knees back so they will hold me up. I knew this was coming, of course, but it doesn’t take the sting away. Throughout the plane ride from Rome to San Francisco, I’d had the opportunity to think about what I would do, where I would live, how I would survive. But I hadn’t. Instead, I’d stuck my headphones in, cranked up Journey, and read through three romance novels.

My gaze wanders across the departures board in front of me, mostly to focus on something other than my husband’s message—my ex-husband’s message. It lists all the cities planes are flying to and from. It seems like a person could get to anywhere they wanted to go from San Francisco.

Right now I want to be anywhere but here. Here I have to answer to my best friend, who is currently waiting in the car, my parents, who want me to be perfect, and my little sister, who is perfect. I am a wreck of a human being, with a deep, dark secret and an open, exposed wound.

I don’t want to face anyone or anything.

Thanks to my marriage to a globetrotting businessman, I have a lot of credentials in my purse, including a tourist visa to Brazil that is only one year into its five-year life. And that’s why, when my eyes roam over the pixels on the screen, a destination catches my attention. Not only can I travel there without trouble, but I have a friend there.

Rio.

Without giving it any more thought, I turn on my heel and march over to the nearest customer service rep. I still have one credit card in Eric’s name. He’s forgotten to cancel it. And I intend to use it.

****

Where, exactly, are you right this minute? my long-suffering best friend asks me.

The cusp of winter in Brazil is still warm, but not hot, and the clothing that was appropriate for spring in San Francisco is quite comfortable here.

Nevertheless, I squirm in the leather seat. In a cab.

In a cab? In Rio?

Yes. In Rio.

Her voice kicks up a notch. I’ve been worried sick!

This is the third time since we started this conversation she’s said this. I guess the text message I sent before boarding the plane saying I was going to Brazil and not to wait for me didn’t quite cut it.

I called as soon as I landed. Defending myself was growing tiresome.

It takes fourteen hours to get there!

Look. Will you tell my parents that I’m okay or are you going to make me do it?

She sighs. I’m sorry. I’m just so worried. Of course I’ll call them. Will you promise to call them in the next few days yourself to put them at ease?

I don’t want to talk to my parents. I don’t want to talk to anyone, really. But at least by calling Candace, I could put to rest most of the anxiety, and maybe it would buy me a little time before I have to admit to everything.

I promise. You can tell them I’ll call.

So, where are you going?

I peer out the window at the building we’ve just pulled up to. Floor to ceiling windows look out onto the darkened street. The well-lit restaurant allows me to