Brenton and Rene (eBook)

RJ Mquintosh (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
320 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-9875944-3-8 (ISBN)

Infos

A corporate office romance. An interracial contemporary romance novel. Romantic Comedy. What does a jaded businessman, and a sharp-tongued girl next door have in common... Everything spicey. It was just supposed to be a job. He was determined not to get near her. She was determined not to get burned. They both failed.

RJ Mquintosh has loved romance novels practically all her life. It was love at first read. I guess you could say romance is in her genes, being that her mother chose her name from a romance novel while she was pregnant with her. RJ writes for the love of it and finds the wide array of the romance genre her favorite past time.

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Join Brenton and Rene on their journey of finding love, as they travel from Dallas to Atlanta to London and around the world... trying desperately to not burn it all down with the fire that burns between them. He thought he didn't need love or anything resembling forever- She just wanted adventure and the great salary- They were both lying to themselves. This book will be loved by anyone who loves romance, loves spicey scenes and loves to a good romantic comedy read.

Textauszug

CHAPTER 1

Rene True

It was the same recurring dream again. I tossed and turned, willing myself to wake up, feeling helpless against the flames. And like all the other nights, only when I stop fighting and surrender to the dream do I jolt back into reality. My heart pounding, hands trembling, my mind clouded by the vividness of the dream.

“What is this?” I groan, face buried in my pillow, frustrated by another night of unrest.

My growling stomach answers into the quiet morning, mixing with the thumping of my heartbeat, reminding me that I went to bed without eating again. I had come home from work late and went straight to packing my suitcase. By the time I finished, I was bone tired and just wanted to take a shower and sleep.

I really need to tell Pheonna that these impromptu trips to Texas are wreaking havoc on my eating habits.

Pheonna Katori—my best friend, my sister-friend as I like to call her—has been my rock since middle school. Even though we’ve grown up and live in two different states, we remain constants in each other’s lives.

If my life were an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, Pheonna would be my Cristina—my person. Though knowing Pheonna, she’d insist that I was her Cristina—because, of course, everyone should play the leading role in their own life, right?

Pheonna lives in Texas and never misses a chance to convince me to visit. This was one of those impromptu trips that she surprised me with, as she so often does.

It always happens the same way. I get a call, and in her sweetest voice, Pheonna asks, “Watcha doing?” I can practically hear her smiling through the phone.

I reply, “Not much—whatchu doing?”

Then she says, “Oh, just browsing some tickets online—I think you should come visit. I found a flight from Friday to Monday. I’m buying. Come on—it’ll be fun!”

And just like that, I’m rushing to pack for a weekend trip I had no intention of taking, caught off guard by a loving friend and her fast-talking, run-on sentences.

Reaching for the bottle of water on my nightstand, I glance at the clock: three-thirteen a.m.

It’s the same time as last time, I think with a frown. Good thing I’m not superstitious, or this would be freaking me out. Most people might call me crazy, but I actually like the number thirteen. I think all numbers are lucky in some way. And this is what happens when I wake up at three a.m., I start ruminating on numbers… I huffed in exasperation.

“Ugh, this dream has got to stop,” I whisper to the silent room.

I need to sleep so I can wake up early, get to work, and finish in time to make it to the airport.

I wish I knew what the dream meant and why it keeps persisting.

I briefly consider asking my mother, but I know better. She’d be all too eager to give me her version of doom and gloom. Because even though the dream involves being surrounded by fire, I don’t feel scared—just nervously intrigued.

Weird, I know, but it didn’t frighten me.

However, if I told my mom, I know what would happen. She’d dissect the dream like she was some kind of living dream catcher, leaving me terrified to sleep in my own bed. I’d end up sleeping on the couch every night, never turning on my stove again.

No. I definitely won’t be asking my mother.

The dream was the same as the night before, and all the nights before that. I was sleeping in a wilderness on my bed, and I was awakened by someone calling my name.

“Rene, Rene, Rene.”

I wake up to a wasteland of leafless trees and emptiness. The bed begins to move, and I find myself floating into the open sky. My nightgown changes from black to white, and I’m transported to a garden on a white linen bed with the most luxurious, soft sheets.

My gown is beautiful, and the garden is full of flowers of every kind. Birds are chirping, and the scent of wildflowers dances in my nostrils. I feel like I’m in heaven, but before I can enjoy the garden, a shadow looms over me as a dark figure approaches.

He is dressed in white too, but it’s strange because he’s engulfed in flames. It’s as if he is the fire, but he isn’t. As he draws closer, the flames begin to gather around the bed, trapping me. I try to escape, but I can’t.

I hear my name again.

“Rene, Rene, Rene.”

I think it must be him calling me, but I’m distracted by the fire.

As he walks closer, the flames surround me. I struggle to get away, but only when I stop moving and surrender to the flames—surrender to him—do I awaken from the dream.

“I need a therapist,” I whisper to myself, tossing and turning, punching my pillow in frustration.

This recurring dream was ruining both my sleep and my sanity.

It felt so vivid; he felt so real.

Even after I woke up, I could still feel the heat of the flames, the pull of the fire, and the presence of the man.

I wasn’t burned by the flames—they caressed me—and that’s what scared me the most. Maybe my lack of a relationship was messing with my mind. Was I losing it because I didn’t have a man?

It’s been known to happen.

“But not to me”, I huff into the silent night air.

I’ve never really been in a serious relationship—never experienced that can’t-eat, can’t-sleep kind of connection people talk about. When it came to relationships, I was like a kid in a candy store who became overwhelmed by the many choices. So, I just didn’t choose anything.

My dating life had become nonexistent, and I decided to take a permanent break from men. I would have tried women, but it’s not in my DNA; I seriously love men. Strictly-dickly, as they say.

I just got tired of it being so hard, so I decided to take a break and focus on myself for a change.

And it’s been wonderful.

I’ve learned so much about myself and what I truly want—not what I’m told to want. I’ve been enjoying life and all the endless possibilities it has to offer. I feel the best I’ve ever felt.

But I have to admit, there’s a sense of stillness in my life that makes me wonder: what am I missing? And this stupid dream wasn’t helping! I punch my pillow again, willing myself to fall asleep.

I must have finally drifted off because my alarm jolts me awake at six a.m. on the dot, blaring a symphonic melody that’s more annoying than beautiful. I reach over and hit snooze several times before jumping out of bed in a huff, remembering that I have to get to work early to make my flight.

“This is all Pheonna’s fault,” I groan, stomping into the bathroom to get ready.

Being an Intake Specialist at a nursing home is a good trade-off to working for child protective services or a fast-paced hospital.

However, some days at the nursing home can be overwhelming. But I’m grateful for my job and I love the patients I help every day. Some are sweet, some funny, some ornery, and some even keep in touch after they’re discharged.

Others... well, they’re on the do not return list.

It’s Friday, so work should be a breeze, but like all well-laid plans, it never goes as expected.

First, the Uber driver got lost, even though I specifically told him not to follow the GPS because it always gets people lost. Then, the hospital decided today was the perfect day to discharge everyone at once.

Suddenly, I’m the first point of contact for eight new patients who look needy, tired, and annoyed. If that wasn’t bad enough, someone was paging me incessantly all day.

“Rene True, call on line one.” Like an annoying parakeet, the intercom squawked nonstop.

What is going on today?! I thought, making my way down the hall of the facility where I’ve worked for the past ten years.

I loved working in midtown Atlanta—most days. But on days like today, I wish I could be lying on a beach in the Maldives. Instead, I square my shoulders, visualize myself settling into my comfortable coach seat on the plane, and smile as I walk into the room of my next intake.

****

Checking my watch for the third time, I tried once more to end my conversation with the last intake of the day.

Finally, I had to say, “Okay, Mr. Taylor, I really must move on to my next patient. It was lovely talking to you, and rest assured, you’ll be well taken care of here.”

I smiled reassuringly, patted his arm, and slowly backed away toward the door, hoping this time I could leave without another question from Mr. Taylor. I waved one last time and hurriedly headed to my office to collect my things and run to the restroom.

Gosh, I feel like I’ve been holding my pee all day.

I hate doing that.

Ever since I became more health-conscious at twenty-five, I’ve been careful about not damaging any vital organs, like my kidneys. Plus, I work in a nursing home—incontinence is more than just a word.

My Uber was set to arrive at three-thirty, and it was now three-seventeen. I rushed to the ladies’ room, hoping to make it in time before my phone dinged, notifying me that my ride had arrived.

After quickly saying goodbye to Tiffany and Janice in the business office, and Mike, the security guard, I rushed outside with my carry-on luggage and Tumi travel tote, ready for my weekend to begin.

As the Uber made its way to Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, I tried to make myself look...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 16.1.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-9875944-3-8 / 9798987594438