Drama and Danish Fried Twists

By Shelley White

Jennifer is a failure at adulting. She couldn’t make it as an actress in Hollywood and the only job she can find in her hometown is at a donut shop. When the chance to use her theater background and production experience to help a high school drama department presents itself, she hopes it’s a launching point for her career. Relationships are out of the question until her life is back on track.
Drama instructor, Ryan, is well aware of his shortcomings in the modern technical aspects of play production. For the sake of his daughter and the other theater students, he’s willing to accept outside help. His attraction to his new teaching assistant is unexpected, and her similarities to his ex-wife make him wary.
Will Jen and Ryan be able to connect for a first run or is it curtains for their Hollywood ending?

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Nov 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781509245888

Shelley White

Biography Shelley is a twenty-five year resident of Oklahoma with roots in Maine. She and her husband have four awesome kids, but are thrilled two have successfully reached adulthood and moved out. She spends her time working with students, writing, reading, baking, sewing, and exercising just enough to counteract her other activities. Penny Gothic owes its beginnings to time spent trapped in a classroom monitoring state tests. No reading, no cell phones, no laptops. Penny was born the old-fashioned way, with paper and pen.

Book preview

The first little batch was out of the oil and the second bunch in when Hannah asked, So, what do you think of my dad?

Jen paused. She couldn’t tell Hannah she was attracted to him to the point of distraction. Um. He’s nice.

Hannah huffed. I mean, do you think he’s someone you could date?

I, uh, haven’t really thought about it. We work together. She’d thought a lot about Ryan, very little of it involved dating. She mostly thought about his comforting smell, warm touch, and mesmerizing eyes.

There was a knock at the front door. Saved by the pizza!

That’s the pizza, check through the window first, though. I’ll stay here and watch the oil.

Jen kept an ear cocked toward the hall. Of course, Hannah was old enough to be home alone and answer the door, but there was always the fear of worst-case scenario in the back of Jen’s mind. Burglaries and home invasions went up this time of year, didn’t they? She heard the door open.

Mom! What are you doing here? Hannah exclaimed.

Drama and Danish Fried Twists

by

Shelley White

Christmas Cookies Series

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.

Drama and Danish Fried Twists

COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Shelley E. White

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 Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2022

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-4588-8

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

In loving memory of Laura Moehl.

Chapter 1

It’s Cyber Monday. Shouldn’t people be home on their computers instead of clogging up the Stop N Shop? Jennifer Easler grumbled to herself as the checkout line inched forward. She glanced at her watch again, wincing as the wire handles of her basket dug into her arm. Why did five minutes feel like an hour? Because I’ve been on my feet since five a.m., that’s why, she thought ruefully.

When she finally reached the belt, she unloaded eggs, flour, sugar, and a jumbo-size bottle of canola oil. Two red indentions flamed on her arm. Last week she would have been wearing a jacket, providing a barrier, but the unpredictable Oklahoma autumn delivered up balmy temps and ferocious wind that day instead. Her pink-and-black Suzy-Q’s Donuts uniform looked more like a bowling league shirt, and its short sleeves did nothing to protect her poor flesh. She rubbed at her arm as the woman in front of her removed her credit card from the machine and accepted her receipt.

With barely a greeting, the cashier began sliding Jen’s items across the scanning plate and placing them in a bag. She cringed at the thought of bringing more plastic bags back to her friend Chelsea’s apartment. She’d lived in California long enough to develop a guilty conscience about single-use plastics. Between that and the conservation mindfulness instilled by her time as a Scissortail Scout, she tried to be green whenever possible.

Twenty-four, forty-four, the cashier said without looking up.

Jen quickly dug her debit card out of her purse, embarrassed at holding up the line when she should have had it ready. She jammed the chip end into the machine and waited for the prompt. Instead of asking for her PIN, it beeped at her and returned to the home screen.

The cashier finally looked up. Pull it out and try it again. The machines have been acting squirrelly this morning.

Jen did as instructed, with the same result.

The cashier held out her hand with a sigh. Let me do it. She ran the card strip through the reader attached to her register, waited a few seconds, then handed it back. It’s declined. Do you have another way to pay?

What? My paycheck went in on Friday. I know there’s money there, she said, keeping her voice low.

You’ll have to take it up with your bank. Do you have cash or another card? She spoke sympathetically, but Jen could tell by her glances that she was anxious to get the line moving.

No. I’ll have to come back. Can you keep these here? Jen put her card back in her wallet.

My shift ends at noon. I have to clear my area.

A sudden presence warmed Jen’s back. She turned to find a man in a blue chamois shirt tucked into tan cords standing behind her. Her gaze shifted up to a clean-shaven, square jaw, dark-blue eyes, and neatly trimmed brown hair. His spicy, sporty scent tickled her nose.

The man set a prepackaged deli sandwich and an orange juice on the belt. If you add this to the sale, I’ll cover it.

Jen’s face burned. No, thank you. That’s not necessary.

One eyebrow rose as he looked at her. In the interest of us both getting out of here with what we came for, please allow me to cover it.

She glanced around him at the increasingly long line. The thought of having to come back and go through the whole process again made her nod her head. Okay. Thank you.

The cashier scanned the additional items, and the man grabbed two chocolate bars from the rack above the belt for her to scan as well.

He swiped his credit card, signed the screen with his finger, and accepted the receipt from the cashier. Come on. I’ll walk you out. Before Jen could respond, he looped the handles of his bag and hers over his arms and headed for the exit.

Jen hurried to catch him. If he was going to steal her groceries, he probably would have picked something edible on its own rather than ingredients. Of course, it wasn’t really stealing since he’d paid. She caught him just outside the automatic doors.

Where are you parked?

Images flashed through her mind of creepy gray vans and human traffickers forcing women into vehicles. She had to admit, buying her groceries was a novel approach. That’s okay. I’ve got it from here. She held out her hand to take her parcels.

Oh, sorry! He stuck out a heavily weighted arm and grasped her hand, giving it a firm shake. I’m Ryan, Ryan Pierce.

She gave