Chocolate Beach

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

It's ten past five, and the house smells of twice-nuked Stouffer's lasagna. Some serious bubbling is going on inside that microwave and I have to wonder, Just how much noodle elasticity is too much? Antsy, I dial up Douglas's office and it takes him three rings to answer. 

"Douglas Stone." 

"Where are you?" 

"Brianna?" 

Who else would be calling his back line at dinnertime? 

"You missed our date." I hear him flip the pages of his calendar. "It's my Bunko night," I remind him. "And Nathan's doing a night run with the team on the beach. We were going to have dinner together." Finally. 

"Oh. Yes. Sorry, Bri." 

I sigh, over exaggerating. Most of my friends and family call me Bri, but not Douglas. Not usually anyway. Not unless he's trying to soften me up. Douglas is a seventeen-year trial attorney with a never-ending case list, and I'm onto him.  

"It's okay." I peek at the time. "I've got to get going anyway." 

He groans into the phone. "I guess I lost track of the time." 

Douglas usually cuts out early at least a couple nights a week. He's always said he didn't want to be one of those wrinkled old-boy attorneys, married to his work. Lately, though, his sexy presence around here has been downright scarce. 

"I'll just leave dinner in the oven on warm then." I glance at the oven, hoping I remember the trick to programming it. "The team's doing an off-season run all the way to Surfer's Point. Nathan'll probably watch the waves a while before getting a ride home from Troy's mom. I guess you two'll be bachelors tonight." 

"That's fine." 

"So ..." 

"Yes?" 

"So I'll be picking up Gaby on the way. I'll probably be kinda late. You know how much she likes to talk." 

"Take your time. Enjoy yourself." 

I expect him to say that, and his usual line has a calming effect. "Love you," I say. 

"I love you too." 

Gaby's met her dream guy for the gazillionth time, and she's ready to dish. If I don't hurry, it'll have to wait until we're seated together during Bunko, and the tasty morsels will be served up in bits, like those nickel-sized quiche appetizers that always leave you hungry. I want the whole meal, every yummy course, served up during a long conversation with my best friend. But it's Bunko night and I'm running late and she's been so gushy over this new guy that she'll probably spill it to everyone, so I'll have to just be one of the gals tonight. Drats. 

It's not like I haven't been there before with Gaby. Oh no. Finding her a decent, handsome, God-loving man has been one of my missions in life, and I'm wearing out. I'm hoping that this one-even though I had absolutely nothing to do with their match up-is Mr. So Right. The Mr. So Right.  

I'm fairly blinded by the glow emitting from my friend's face when I pull up alongside the curb. Gaby climbs in, and her pretty French manicure causes me to curl my less-than-attractive fingers into a ball. I wonder if I can drive like this.  

"Hey Bri-Bri!" Gaby leans over and gives me a hug. Her perfume makes me sneeze, even though it's wild lavender, one of my favorites. I want to tell her that a little goes a long, long way, but instead I just sniff and hug her back. 

"You are positively radiant, my friend," I tell her between sniffles. "In 'like'?" 

Gaby tips her head toward the heavens, smiling. "What can I say?" She giggles like a teenager, and I love her for that. Gabrielle Maria Flores and I have been friends forever. Well, at least since our coffee-pouring days.