Taming Mr. Charming (The Taming Series Book 2) Read online

  Taming Mr. Charming

  The Taming Series Book 2

  Nia Arthurs

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in Belize, C.A. Jan 2016

  Copyright © Nia Arthurs

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be circulated in any writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book has been produced for the Amazon Kindle and is distributed by Amazon Direct Publishing.

  To all the Jobs with the wounds and the scars that no one can see.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Spencer and Peyton are what?” I shrieked, wondering if I was in an alternate universe. Or maybe I was on Punk’d. This had to be a joke. I was definitely on Punk’d, pretty soon the host of our local Saturday night prank show would jump out of the shadows and the cameras would be pushed into my face.

  My love-struck-with-her-boyfriend-of-two-years best friend grinned at me as if she were sharing good news. I smoothed down my hair for the cameras and glanced over to make sure my girl was camera ready. As usual Melody was stunning with creamy light brown skin and her gorgeous curly hair smacked into a bun on the top of her head. My best friend rarely used makeup and let her naturally curly hair frizz at will, but she was always Top-Model ready.

  I, however, loved my makeup. I wondered if it would be too obvious if I flipped open my powder case right now and patted my cheeks. I didn’t want the producers of Punk’d to paint me as self-obsessed if they rolled the footage on national television. Yeah, I better not pull out my powder case.

  I tuned back in to what Melody was saying, keeping an eye out for the entrance to burst open. Anytime now.

  “The guys are dabbling in off-shore banking so they’re setting up an office in Belize. They’ll be here for a full year!”

  Oh.

  Oh, she was serious?

  Breathe, Mia, Breathe. There’s still a chance that Jerry Larimore will rush through that door, shove a mike in your face and tell you that this has all been an elaborate scheme.

  I grappled for some kind of explanation. “But, don’t they do engineering and technologies and stuff? Why are they in banking?”

  Come on Jerry. Come on.

  Melody regarded me with a smirk, “You don’t care about that. You just don’t want to see Peyton.”

  Ugh. Peyton Lowry, the bane of my existence.

  Almost three years ago, Melody and her boyfriend Spencer met in the States while she was on an assignment with her job. The couple had battled some major issues but eventually made up and were currently - and quite bitter sweetly - in a long distance relationship. I was happy for my friend and celebrated with her anytime her sexy Asian boo came all the way from L.A. to visit. Unfortunately, Spencer Braden was always accompanied by his best friend/ business partner, Peyton. And let’s just say Peyton Lowry’s success, wealth, and good looks didn’t keep him from behaving like a ten year old little boy when it came to his interactions with me.

  As the supportive best friend, however, it was my responsibility to keep Peyton occupied every time Spencer came to see Melody. At first I didn’t have a problem with the babysitting. Boys did not scare me. I knew the male species, their wants, their needs, and their thought processes, better than most. But Peyton was not at all like the men I was used to. He grasped at any and every opportunity to annoy me and nothing was sacred. He was like an annoying older brother. Sometimes I forgot that he was the co-founder of a very successful technology patenting company in L.A.

  “Peyton’s a pain in the butt. I don’t know why he keeps coming back here. Pass that hanger, please.”

  Melody and I were arranging my store with the new stock that arrived from Port, the national shipping agency. I owned a little boutique near the north side of Belize called Mia’s Designs. The boutique was my pride and joy. I left the more scholarly and academic pursuits to Melody. I knew from a young age that I loved fashion and make-up and looking good. No piece of paper from an expensive school would gratify me. It was a dream come true to behold my store which I’d gotten on sale from a Chinese grocer at an incredible price. I made most of the improvements myself with some help from the Reyes family and Archie, the adopted Reyes family lawyer. Every fixture, every shelf, every mirror had been installed with elbow grease and determination.

  On the side I designed a few pieces of clothing but nothing that I felt was ready for mass judgment. Of course, my best friend and her family kept trying to convince me to reveal my designs to Belize. Even Peyton had jumped on the bandwagon, though I suspected he joined the ride just because he knew it would bug me.

  “You know why he comes to Belize, Mia.” Melody replied, handing me the hangar. Today was my bestie’s only day off and I felt bad for working her this early in the morning. Unfortunately, the store didn’t make enough to hire full time employees yet so I tricked Melody into being my indentured servant by promising her a gallon of Ben & Jerry’s. She’d developed a strange craving for that imported ice cream ever since L.A.

  “You’ve forgotten that I know you better than anyone. This is the first time in years that a guy has gotten any kind of a reaction from you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I defended, pursing my lips. I knew that Melody wanted to set me up with Spencer’s best friend but fairy tales like that only worked in Melody-Land. We had two very different world perspectives.

  My story was much different than my friend’s. Melody grew up in a stable home with caring parents living an example of love before her. She grew up with a solid faith and always did the right thing. Soon, Melody will graduate with a Bachelors degree in Business Communication and Management. Plus, she’s dating a guy who adores her. On their wedding night, Melody will be able to give him the pristine, untarnished gift of her body and heart.

  I, on the other hand, suffered along with my parents in a terrible marriage. Oh, they’re still together but my sixty year old father sleeps on the couch every night. My parents fought constantly. As the youngest of four, I was the last to leave and so bore the brunt of the family disunity alone. I had no doubt that my parents would be better off if they weren’t together but there was one problem: appearances.

  For my mom and dad, it was all about appearance. Every Sunday, the Johnsons packed into the third pew to the right of the Living Waters Church. No one suspected that Daddy sometimes went to his mistress
for the night. No one knew that Mama cried herself to sleep when he did. Because every Sunday morning and night without fail, the Johnsons were starched, pressed and in church.

  When I turned fifteen, I realized that I couldn’t take the pretense anymore. I started acting up, talking back to my mother, arguing with my father. Church was non-negotiable so I went, but I completely tuned out during the sermons. I started hanging out with the Pastor’s kid, slipping behind the church baptismal pool to make out and lighting cigarettes in the Children’s nursery during the seven o’clock service. The PK was your typical eighteen year old boy, rebellious and just as put out with keeping up appearances as I. One day, in the back of his old green Honda, he took my virginity.

  I let that one event in the backseat of a disgustingly dirty green car define me. I started down a road of casual sexual relationships. I became manipulating and lewd. The “taken” men were my favorite to pursue and the unwritten codes of respect that I was breaking excited me. I’m not sure how I ended up so far from righteousness. The insecure little girl that I used to be only started down that path because she wanted to be heard. She wanted to prove to the Preacher Man that God was a myth and heaven and hell were on earth. She wanted her parents to stop fighting long enough to pay attention to her. But the little girl grew up and the woman that I saw in the mirror four years later was a douche. I did not recognize her.

  That woman in the mirror would have continued to take over if it had not been for one call, one lousy two minute call that changed my life on the floor of the girl’s bathroom.

  “Hello! Earth to Mia!” Melody snapped her fingers in my face.

  “Oh sorry, gyal.” I apologized.

  “Where were you? You were totally out of it.”

  “I was just thinking about stuff.”

  “Thinking about Peyton?” Melody teased, bumping me with her shoulder and wiggling her eyebrows expressively.

  “No, I wasn’t.” I saw her deflate.

  “What’s your obsession with me and Peyton anyway?” I inquired curiously.

  Melody was always Team Peyton. But I didn’t get it. From the first day that we’d met, something about the guy irritated me. He was just so … likeable. I couldn’t conceive a man that genuine. There had to be strings attached. My history had taught me that genuine men of integrity didn’t exist anymore. Well, except for Spencer and Mr. Reyes, Melody’s dad. I think Melody’s sweetness attracted those types of people. My personality certainly brought out the whackos.

  “He’s nice. And you treat him really bad.”

  “He’s always annoying me!” I protested, “Don’t you remember that time when he caught a lizard and pushed it in my face?”

  “Um, actually, he was showing everyone the lizard. It was a rare Gekkota. It wasn’t in your face at all.”

  I humped, “Well, I remember it differently. And what about the day we all went to the waterfall in Sucuts and he threw mud at me.”

  “We were all having fun in the mud. His dirt caught you by accident.”

  “Okay, but he was totally flirting with that nurse who tended you when you got stung by a jellyfish that last time.”

  “First of all, I was perfectly fine after I peed on my leg, so that whole hospital dash was unnecessary. But he wasn’t flirting with her. She was married. We all knew that. All he did was ask about her kids. You saw how she lit up. What was wrong with that?”

  “Stop taking his side in everything. You’re just like everyone else who’s blinded by this white guy.”

  Melody grinned, “Oh, you mean blinded by how handsome he is? Or maybe how smart and kind and respectful-”

  “Exactly!” I used the hangar in my hand to punctuate the point. “He’s too nice and kind.”

  “And handsome?” Melody added breezily.

  “Whatever. Trust me; Peyton Lowe has his share of female admirers. I refuse to be one of them.”

  “Okay. I believe you. I think. I’m just saying-”

  “How ‘bout you keep your thoughts to yourself?” I interrupted.

  “Ouch. Grouchy much?”

  I sighed as I recognized my harsh tone. “I’m sorry girl, it’s just…”

  “You have Peyton fever.” Melody added in.

  She got up to escape from my wrath but I popped her on the bum with my hangar before she could get away.

  “Hey, that hurt!” She exclaimed.

  “My bad.” I smiled smugly.

  “Geez. All I did was point out that Peyton isn’t a bad guy and you go all Hangar Ninja on me.”

  “I would think you of all people would keep me from messing around with guys right now.” I remarked, folding the jeans and getting up to put them on the shelves.

  “Whoa, hold up. You’re not the same person that you were five years ago. And Peyton isn’t the devil that you’re making him out to be. That’s all I’m saying.”

  I pondered Melody’s words as we worked in tandem to get the store in order for the Saturday rush. The thing was, Melody’s heart was in the right place, but I knew Peyton’s type. Five years ago, slap some more melanin in his white skin and the handsome and wealthy Peyton was my type. But I was determined not to fall into old patterns. Peyton would always and forever be the burden that I endured because Melody deserved happiness. And if Peyton came with the package, well, it was my responsibility to scoop out the scum so my best friend could enjoy her freshly squeezed juice.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A week later, Melody came over to my apartment for our traditional Girl’s Night. The first time Spencer arrived in Belize, I’d been thoroughly ignored as Melody was totally consumed by her boyfriend. I didn’t mind. I knew just how exciting having a significant other could be. But Melody was beside herself with guilt when she realized how lopsided she’d been with her attention. Feeling sorry for her, I came up with Girl’s Night. On the eve of any of Spencer’s visits, Melody would spend the night at my place. We’d watch romantic comedies, play games, paint each other’s nails, and go online to order new stock for the shop. That way, Melody could spend guilt-free time with her man without obsessing over my feelings.

  “Do you have the M & M’s?” I asked my friend with my head in the cupboard located in the small kitchen.

  “I do!” she called out from the living room. Smiling, I went out to meet her, my arm loaded with sugary goodness. Melody was more of a health fanatic than I was. I tried to corrupt her as often as I could. Her eyes bugged out when she spotted my stash.

  “How do you eat all that crap and still look like that?”

  “Girl, stop talking. You’re as curvy as you should be. I wish I were that voluptuous.” I complained, munching on an Oreo.

  “I don’t mean your weight. I mean your skin. You can eat whatever you want and your face never breaks out.”

  I rolled my eyes. Melody was super sensitive about clear skin. She’d suffered with really bad acne as a teen, but the marks had long since faded. Her face was as smooth as mine, not that anyone could convince Melody of that. Spencer constantly got frustrated when he ventured to discuss the topic. I’d already made my peace with my best friend’s irrational obsession. Spencer would lead a much more tranquil life if he accepted it too.

  “Really,” Melody groaned, “you’re so pretty and you have a great sense of style. It’s so unfair. I try to put on anything more than eye liner and I look like a hooker.”

  “You could never pull off the hooker look, girl,” I put a stop to her whining. “And you shouldn’t be complaining. You are beautiful even without any makeup. Now the rest of us, we need our faces applied.”

  Melody laughed like I was joking but I was serious. I used makeup and flattering clothes to measure up, to identify as a woman that was worth being taken seriously. Melody was a natural beauty with her long curly hair and light brown skin. She made anything look good and people automatically gave her respect. When she noted my serious expression, she rolled her eyes and then proceeded to crawl on her belly to reach the handheld mirror stati
oned on the entertainment center.

  What was she doing?

  She strained to reach the thing. At 5” 6, I was three inches taller than my best friend, but the struggle was just pathetic. Finally, she touched the edge of the handle and caused it to tumble down into her hands.

  “If you broke it, you would have bought it back,” I teased.

  She stuck her tongue out in reply as she crawled back toward me.

  “You see this woman?” She panted, holding the mirror up to my face for inspection. I pushed the mirror away.

  “Mel, what are you doing?”

  Melody snapped a spank on my hand and returned the mirror to its position, “Look at her.” She commanded.

  I whined but obeyed, “What now, Dr. Phil?”

  “Tell me what you see.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but did as told, “I see a black woman.”

  “And,” Melody prompted, shoving the mirror closer till I could see up my nostrils.

  And I needed a nose hair clipper?

  I knew Melody wouldn’t appreciate my humor so I responded, “And she has almond shaped eyes, brown pupils, a long nose, thick lips…”

  “And none of those things are ugly. Everything about this face is beautiful. Say it, ‘I am a beautiful black woman’.”

  Grudgingly I repeated, “I am a beautiful black woman.”

  “Louder!”

  “I AM A BEAUTIFUL BLACK WOMAN!” I cried.

  “Good, and nuh forget it. I’m tired of you beating up on yourself.”

  I rolled my eyes at her antics but felt warmed inside. Sometimes having a best friend like Melody Reyes had its perks.

  “Okay, enough of this sister-love. Hand me the M & M’s,” I cried, and the Girl’s Night began in earnest.

  After pigging out on ice cream, chocolate candies and Oroes and watching “Bride and Prejudice”, a Bollywood version of Melody’s favorite book, we shook out our blankets on the living room floor. The lights were off and we were dressed for sleep but we both knew that slumber was not a part of the equation. The scene was set for Girl Talk.