Serial Story: Jasmine Betrayal, Part 1
Welcome to the latest story in the BeauTEAful Summer series, Jasmine Betrayal! This story will be presented weekly in draft (that means unedited) format every Friday right here on the blog for free. When the story is done, it will be edited, polished and available for sale at all your favorite online retailers.
I'm excited to introduce you to Genevieve and Max, characters named by Carol Ward and Ardee-ann Eichelmann, and their story of romantic suspense that revolves around an old southern diner outside Little Rock, Arkansas. Grab your favorite cuppa and settle in - I hope you enjoy the story!
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 1
The hair on the back of Genevieve’s neck prickled as she wiped down another booth in the diner she’d recently inherited. The sweet, perfume scent of Jasmine tea wafted across the room from her last customer. It was completely at odds with his tailored suit and sharp-cut black hair, but no more so than the plain scone and lemon butter he’d ordered. Men didn’t normally order such light and delicate flavors, which made him suspect right from the start.
But that stare boring into her back as she worked, those dark, intense eyes that had never left her own as she’d taken his order sent chills up her spine. Not even a hint of drawl in the few low words he’d uttered either. That didn’t necessarily mean he knew Jenkins - the North was a big place, after all, but it was rare that anyone other than locals stopped in to see her rather than driving on into Little Rock.
And never so late at night.
She moved behind the long fifties-style lunch counter, trying to remember when she’d sent the reply to a letter that had come for her father. It had arrived just days after his death, and by the time she’d gotten around to opening it, the deadline had passed. Charlie Jenkins had promised to kill the entire Morano family if he didn’t pay back the money her father owed within a week.
Genevieve had no idea what the money had been for, but looking over her father’s ledger she saw the debt noted in his handwriting. She’d sent a letter of apology, a copy of her father’s death certificate and a check for the whole of her life-savings to pay off all but fifty dollars, which she’d promised to send within one month. Had it been that long already?
Glancing at the man by the door, she wondered if fifty dollars would be the difference between life and death. Perhaps she would die tonight without even knowing why. That seemed a little unfair.
She cleaned the coffee pots, going through the motions though she could still feel the weight of his focus on her. Surely he’d finished his tea by now. She’d left the check with the scones, but he seemed to be waiting for...something.
The clocked ticked over to midnight. Closing time.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she steadied herself, and then moved to stand by his table.
“I’m closing up, Mister. Can I settle the check for you?”
He glanced out the window and she automatically looked as well. It was pitch black out, aside from the single street light illuminating the dirt parking lot. There was only one car out there, his, she assumed. Aside from a gas station a mile away, the diner was the only stop along the road, a relic of past days before the interstate had stolen all the traffic.
“Do you sleep here?” he asked, that smooth, deep voice like chocolate on her skin even as the question made her take a step back.
“That’s none o’your business, Sir. I’d appreciate it if you left now.” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but she felt the slight tremor, saw in his eyes that he’d heard it too. Still, she held her ground and his gaze. If he was going to kill her, he’d have to do it while looking her in the eye.
He reached under the left side of his jacket with his right hand, and pulled out a shiny black gun, laying it on the table in front of him.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the booth, his tone still calm and maddenly even. Genevieve tried to move, but somehow she couldn’t.
“Now.”
He still hadn’t raised his voice, but the word broke her trance and she slid into the booth across from him, her feet accidentally bumping his. She cringed. Not that it mattered. There was nowhere to go, and no one to help. She was going to die here, in her father’s old diner, for a fifty-dollar bill.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slow as she wondered why he still hadn’t picked the gun up.
No point in keeping quiet now.
“Fifty bucks is nothing compared to the check I sent,” she said. “And I can pay the rest now, straight from the till, in cash. I won’t say anything. I promise, it’s just...why? Why did my father borrow that money? Even if you have to kill me, I deserve to know. Won’t mean a thing, otherwise.”
The man looked out the window again. Genevieve looked too, not sure whether to be relieved or scared when headlights came barreling toward them out of the darkness. Her captor reached for the gun.
“Ms. Morano?”
She took another breath - probably her last, and closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Do you have a walk-in freezer?”
She opened her eyes, frowning. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Go lock the back door, and then shut yourself in the freezer. If I survive, I’ll let you out in a few minutes. If I don’t, you’ll be better off in there than out here.”
Genevieve started to argue, but he slid out of the booth and moved to the door, his entire body tense as the vehicle pulled into the gravel lot. It dawned on her that he’d given her a choice - the devil she knew, or the one she didn’t.
She ran for the kitchen.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
I'm excited to introduce you to Genevieve and Max, characters named by Carol Ward and Ardee-ann Eichelmann, and their story of romantic suspense that revolves around an old southern diner outside Little Rock, Arkansas. Grab your favorite cuppa and settle in - I hope you enjoy the story!
Jasmine Betrayal
Part 1
The hair on the back of Genevieve’s neck prickled as she wiped down another booth in the diner she’d recently inherited. The sweet, perfume scent of Jasmine tea wafted across the room from her last customer. It was completely at odds with his tailored suit and sharp-cut black hair, but no more so than the plain scone and lemon butter he’d ordered. Men didn’t normally order such light and delicate flavors, which made him suspect right from the start.
But that stare boring into her back as she worked, those dark, intense eyes that had never left her own as she’d taken his order sent chills up her spine. Not even a hint of drawl in the few low words he’d uttered either. That didn’t necessarily mean he knew Jenkins - the North was a big place, after all, but it was rare that anyone other than locals stopped in to see her rather than driving on into Little Rock.
And never so late at night.
She moved behind the long fifties-style lunch counter, trying to remember when she’d sent the reply to a letter that had come for her father. It had arrived just days after his death, and by the time she’d gotten around to opening it, the deadline had passed. Charlie Jenkins had promised to kill the entire Morano family if he didn’t pay back the money her father owed within a week.
Genevieve had no idea what the money had been for, but looking over her father’s ledger she saw the debt noted in his handwriting. She’d sent a letter of apology, a copy of her father’s death certificate and a check for the whole of her life-savings to pay off all but fifty dollars, which she’d promised to send within one month. Had it been that long already?
Glancing at the man by the door, she wondered if fifty dollars would be the difference between life and death. Perhaps she would die tonight without even knowing why. That seemed a little unfair.
She cleaned the coffee pots, going through the motions though she could still feel the weight of his focus on her. Surely he’d finished his tea by now. She’d left the check with the scones, but he seemed to be waiting for...something.
The clocked ticked over to midnight. Closing time.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she steadied herself, and then moved to stand by his table.
“I’m closing up, Mister. Can I settle the check for you?”
He glanced out the window and she automatically looked as well. It was pitch black out, aside from the single street light illuminating the dirt parking lot. There was only one car out there, his, she assumed. Aside from a gas station a mile away, the diner was the only stop along the road, a relic of past days before the interstate had stolen all the traffic.
“Do you sleep here?” he asked, that smooth, deep voice like chocolate on her skin even as the question made her take a step back.
“That’s none o’your business, Sir. I’d appreciate it if you left now.” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice, but she felt the slight tremor, saw in his eyes that he’d heard it too. Still, she held her ground and his gaze. If he was going to kill her, he’d have to do it while looking her in the eye.
He reached under the left side of his jacket with his right hand, and pulled out a shiny black gun, laying it on the table in front of him.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the booth, his tone still calm and maddenly even. Genevieve tried to move, but somehow she couldn’t.
“Now.”
He still hadn’t raised his voice, but the word broke her trance and she slid into the booth across from him, her feet accidentally bumping his. She cringed. Not that it mattered. There was nowhere to go, and no one to help. She was going to die here, in her father’s old diner, for a fifty-dollar bill.
She took a deep breath, letting it out slow as she wondered why he still hadn’t picked the gun up.
No point in keeping quiet now.
“Fifty bucks is nothing compared to the check I sent,” she said. “And I can pay the rest now, straight from the till, in cash. I won’t say anything. I promise, it’s just...why? Why did my father borrow that money? Even if you have to kill me, I deserve to know. Won’t mean a thing, otherwise.”
The man looked out the window again. Genevieve looked too, not sure whether to be relieved or scared when headlights came barreling toward them out of the darkness. Her captor reached for the gun.
“Ms. Morano?”
She took another breath - probably her last, and closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Do you have a walk-in freezer?”
She opened her eyes, frowning. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Go lock the back door, and then shut yourself in the freezer. If I survive, I’ll let you out in a few minutes. If I don’t, you’ll be better off in there than out here.”
Genevieve started to argue, but he slid out of the booth and moved to the door, his entire body tense as the vehicle pulled into the gravel lot. It dawned on her that he’d given her a choice - the devil she knew, or the one she didn’t.
She ran for the kitchen.
Enjoy
this post? Support your author:
Romantic Suspense
| Erotic Romance | Contemporary Romance |
Horror | Flash Fiction | Non-Fiction
**Please
note - If this is your first time posting, your comment
will be moderated. Once you have been approved, future comments will post automatically.
No comments have been added yet.
