Fate Interrupted Read Online Free PDF Page A

caught up in its spell, unable to tear his gaze away even after she had
slipped outside.
    “I’m free for
dinner Saturday night.”
    Dean’s brow
folded. He slowly turned to a gray haired woman leaning on the machine next to
him. A wry grin cut across her wrinkly cheeks, her eyes shimmering like
diamonds.
    Dean couldn’t
stop a smile. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
    She laughed sharply
and slapped his arm. “Are you kidding? I’d starve to death by then! I eat at
five on the dot so make it four-thirty.”
    “Bummer,” Dean
murmured under his breath, glancing back up front and wiping his face with the
towel. He stared past Stacey, the wheels spinning in his mind, knowing what he
had to do.

 
 
 
 
 
    Chapter
Four

 
 
 
 
 
 
    Downtown Milwaukee
was warm and bustling. A joyful weekend vibe filled the active streets as couples
walked arm in arm and cabs whisked drunken passengers to their next watering
hole, where the party would continue long into the night. Smiling faces adorned
the candlelit tables inside Sugars. The patrons lounged on red chairs and
velvet couches, which were as inviting as the racks of colorful cupcakes and illuminated
bottles of booze behind the counter.
    Evy slid a tray
of chocolate butter cream cayenne cupcakes, with a red sauce drizzled atop the
swirled frosting, into the glass case up front. Soft jazz floated down from the
speakers in the ceiling as her eyes swept across the pretty setting. She
smiled, happy to be a part of something so magical. Last year at this time, she
was managing a sports bar and wondering where she had gone wrong. Yet somehow,
she had managed to stay positive and patient and it had all finally paid off.
    She turned and
went through a half door that swung freely into the kitchen, the bright
lighting immediately extinguishing the romantic vibe up front. She checked the
timer on one of the ovens and returned to a tray of tarts cooling on a large
stainless steel table in the middle of the room. Using both hands, she
carefully squeezed homemade whipped cream from a cone-shaped bag, unable to stop
thinking about the guy at the gym. It had been nearly a week and she was still
seeing his face. Evy couldn’t remember his name - Steve maybe - but had no trouble recalling his striking features
and broad shoulders. Tall guys had always been a turn on for her and she cursed
herself for not giving him a shot. She wasn’t that busy tomorrow night.
    She squirted the
whip cream in circular bursts around the tarts, unnerved by the wetness
building inside her jeans. She imagined running her fingers through his brown hair
and kissing those full lips. He looked like a good kisser, too, like he
actually enjoyed a bit of foreplay rather than just diving right into dessert.
She should have said yes. It had been a long year since finding out her fiancé
had gotten more than just a lap dance from some stripper at his bachelor party.
    Evy moved to the
next row of tarts, trying to convince herself that her plate was too full to be
wasting time messing with some player. Nevertheless, the guy from the gym kept
rising to the top, smiling at her with that mischievous grin, ravaging her with
those big brown eyes. She shook her head, fighting the flush of heat between
her legs, desperate to erase the image of his sculpted biceps with that vein
running through them that always turned her on. The last thing she needed right
now was more drama.
    A wistful sigh
escaped her as she kept hearing herself shoot him down inside her head. Not every
guy was Richie, she told herself. Evy refused to become one of those woefully
inadequate heroines from some sappy romance novel. She knew she was smart and
pretty and would be damned if some cheating scumbag would take that away from
her.
    She grunted and
moved on to the next row. After Richie, however, she had doubted herself a
great deal but putting some time and miles between her and that dark day when
that racy video had mysteriously