.jpg)
$2.99
Samantha, a free spirited, plus-size girl who takes life as it comes finds her uptight neighbor dreadfully boring. Christopher thinks Samantha is loud, boisterous and annoying. Getting trapped in an elevator together drives them both crazy and neither can wait to get out.
So why can’t Sam stop thinking about her drab and dreary neighbor? And why is Christopher, a man who hates tight spaces, willing to ride the elevator with her again? Opposites attract in this fun, romantic comedy. Nobody said it would be easy to love Sam.
Book 2 of the "Plush Daisies" series. Book 1 is "The Big, Not-So-Small, Curvy Girls, BBW Romance Dating Agency"
Excerpt:
Samantha
pulled the door shut behind her while trying to juggle her bag and
coffee mug. It was her favorite, the one with a grumpy bulldog on it
complaining about mornings. Thankfully it was spill proof, saving her
from the splash of hot coffee as she spun toward the elevator.
Turning
just in time to see the doors open, she called out to her neighbor,
“Ooh, hold the door.”
Christopher
Remy’s eyes grew wide. There was no polite way to hide it as he
reached for the ‘close doors’ button. If he was quick enough,
they’d close before she got there. He willed them to move faster,
unable to handle her kind of nonsense this early in the morning. She
was like the thorn on a rose stem. After pricking your finger, it
would jar you just enough to be annoyed, but not really do any
serious damage.
“Wait!”
She yelled, now seconds from making it. “Hey! I saw that.” She
slammed her hand with the mug in front of the door before it could
close completely. The doors started to reopen. “What’s your
problem?” She glared at her neighbor.
Christopher
rolled his eyes and looked away. Damn
this slow elevator.
“Seriously,
that was rude! You saw me coming.” Her voice whined with the
abrasiveness of a ragged nail file. She wasn’t interested in polite
conversation, only in letting him know what a jerk he was.
Christopher
said nothing. He wasn’t her biggest fan. This was the same girl
that parked her stupid dog grooming van in the spot he’d parked in
for two years straight. It was the perfect balance of sun and shade,
tucked in the corner of the lot so other people didn’t park too
close.
Ever
since she came around a few months ago, nothing was the same. She
took his spot, she was loud, and more than anything, she always had
an opinion, and rarely an important or well thought out one. She
seemed to blurt out whatever was on her mind, forcing those around
her to listen to her nonsense.
“That
tie doesn’t go with your outfit,” she snorted. Asshole.
He saw me coming.
What’s
his problem anyway?
Christopher
still said nothing. As the elevator descended, he counted the
seconds. The building was only four stories high, but the antiquated
elevator seemed to run at a snail’s pace, sluggish and painfully
slow.
Click,
click, clack... The elevator jerked to a stop.
“What
the…?” Great.
I don’t have time for this.
The last person Sam wanted to be stuck in the elevator with was some
uptight, boring guy who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.
It’s not like she had time to spare, anyway. She had an appointment
to get to, and running late on the first appointment would set her
back the entire day. Every single client would be inconvenienced
because of a time delay. Sam hated things that were out of her
control.
Christopher
fanatically pushed all the buttons. “Nothing,” he groaned.
Picking up the emergency phone, he rang maintenance. Nobody answered.
“Are you kidding me?” His voice noticeably raised an octave.
“Does
this happen often?” Sam’s annoyance was obvious. Her statement
was punctuated with a deep exaggerated sigh, the kind a teenager with
a chip on her shoulder might use.
“No.”
His fingers pried at his collar. What
happened to all the oxygen?
He couldn’t breathe. Okay, so maybe there wasn’t less oxygen yet,
but there would be. She would be sucking up all of the air. Beads of
sweat formed on his palms almost immediately, just another reminder
of his inner panic. Keep
calm!
“Are
you okay?” Sam looked over. He was getting twitchy.
“Yes.”
Refusing to look at the oxygen sucker, he controlled his breathing
with small, shallow bits of air. Maybe if he used less oxygen with
each breath, it would last longer. Picking up the phone, he tried
maintenance again. Thankfully somebody answered.
Sam
could only hear one side of the conversation.
“What?
That long? Can you please ask them to make it a priority?” Hanging
up the phone, he turned toward Sam, who casually sipped her coffee as
if nothing was wrong. She was breathing in way too much oxygen. Of
all the people to get stuck with, an air hog.
“Do
you have to breathe so deeply?” The whine in his voice was less
than flattering.
“What?”
He
can’t be serious.
“It’s
just that if we’re stuck here for a while…it’s just a
precaution. You should try to use less oxygen.”
“You’re
shitting me, right?” Sam couldn’t hide her disbelief.
“You
don’t have to mock me.” Christopher turned to face the other way.
Why
her? Why did it have to be her?
He shook his head. “Just…it’s going to be about an hour.”
“An
hour? I don’t have an hour to kill. I’ve got a dog to groom.”
Sam dug out her phone to call her client.
“Right,
I’m sorry. I’m stuck in an elevator. I’ll be there as soon as I
can. Right, I understand if you need to reschedule. Right…okay, see
you in an hour.”
Scrunching
down to the floor, Samantha sat. This was not how she wanted to spend
the next hour. She watched the man across from her tugging at his
collar.
“You
sure you’re okay?”
“I’m
fine.” He wouldn’t make eye contact. “I may not be fond of
small, tight spaces, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Small?
Tight? You could fit ten more people in here easily.”
Christopher
breathed deeply and wiped his palms across his slacks, slicking off
the beads of sweat.
“Are
you claustrophobic?”
“What
makes you say that?” He shot defensively.
“Gee,
I don’t know… the buckets of sweat pouring off of you, the way
you’re panicking and breathing like a hyena...”
“I
am not breathing like a hyena, thank you very much.” He paused.
“And so what if I am? It doesn’t change anything. There’s no
point dwelling on the fact.”
“Look,
the way I see it, you could park your bottom on the floor here, relax
and let time pass, or you can stand there tied up in a knot and drive
yourself crazy. Why don’t you sit down and talk? Take your mind off
the situation.”
He
eyed her warily.
“I’m
not a freaking cannibal. I’m not going to have you for lunch.
What’s your problem?”
“You’re
breathing too much. You’ll use up all of our air.”
Oh
boy.
“Come on,” she lowered her voice, trying to soothe him. “Sit
down. Distraction will do wonders for you.”
Christopher
sunk to the ground. “Christopher Remy,” he introduced, sticking
his sweaty palm out.
Sam
looked at it. “I’ll pass. You’re a bit…dewy. I’m Samantha,
but you can call me Sam.”
No comments:
Post a Comment