Othello Station
by Rachael Wade
Publication date: June 22nd 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
Every woman in my
life is supposed to be like Othello Station – a last stop. Unless they know how
to keep their distance. I’ve managed to maintain a routine, one that works for
me and one I have no intention of ever changing. But this dove came along. Soft
and delicate, tainting my thoughts. I can think of twenty different ways to get
rid of her. I need this dove to take flight.
But she won’t fly
away.
She won’t release
me from her cage.
Her wings ensnare
me.
And now I want to
get off this train. I wish I never boarded this ride. Because I’m about to
crash and take this dove with me. But sometimes you can’t stop the crash.
Sometimes you just have to hang on and let the flames ignite. Let the fire
burn.
Sometimes, the fire
is what saves you.
Excerpt
Not even a minute passes when
I realize I have no glasses. Not even little plastic cups in the bathroom.
Seriously? This is a four star hotel in downtown Seattle. The reviews are
great; the place is clean, classy, and well kept. And yet they leave one chick
to fend for herself at the front desk and fail to provide even the most basic
necessities in the rooms? I’m a hotel snob. My standards might be high. But
seriously? This shit is crazy. I throw on my coat, jog out of the room, and
head down to the front desk.
Again.
Mira’s on the phone, making a
coffee for a displeased customer, and attempting to shuffle through a pile of
paperwork. When she spots me, she eyes me cautiously for a moment, then returns
her attention to the multitasking at hand.
I wander to the edge of the
desk and wait patiently until she serves the coffee and hangs the phone up. Her
nose scrunches and she winces. “Is the wine no good? Do you want that cash
back? Because—”
“No.” I lift a hand. “I just
need some glasses.”
“There are none in your
room?”
“Nope.”
She bites her lip, and my
gaze follows. It’s far from seductive. She’s nervous as hell. But something
about it makes my cock twitch. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Unless
you’re the housekeeping department, too. In which case, I wouldn’t be
surprised.”
She jumps toward the bar and
begins the search for the glasses. “No,” she laughs awkwardly, “of course not.”
“Well. That’s a relief.”
She returns with one glass.
“I need two. I’m having
company.”
She’s dumbstruck. A tinge of
red paints her cheeks. “Oh! Yes, of course.” She hands me a second.
“Anything
else for you?”
“Yeah…” I veer around the
desk toward the bar and snatch a menu from the counter. “Can I order some food
to go?”
“Absolutely. Give me just a
second.” She straightens a pile of paperwork and reaches for a notepad before
joining me at the cash till. I watch her glance over her shoulder, then eye the
phone. She’s a million miles away. She’s overwhelmed, is what she is.
“Are you the cook, too?”
“Pfftt.” She waves and puffs
her lips. “God, no.”
“Actually, nevermind.” I set
the menu down and slide the glasses toward her. “I’ll be back to get these. I’m
going to grab something to eat around the corner instead, here in Belltown.”
“Wait! You don’t have to do
that. I’m really not the cook, I swear!”
“I certainly hope not.” My
bland expression must affect her, because she retreats right back into her
shell, like a scared turtle.
“Well, I’d be happy to
recommend some places to eat.” Her voice softens, and I suddenly feel like an
asshole. I’m good at that, apparently.
“I know Belltown pretty well.
Thanks, though.”
Her shoulders sag a little,
but she smiles kindly and wishes me a good night. I head outside into nightfall
and sail around the corner, crossing two blocks until I reach my favorite dive
bar. I order wings and a salad to go and wait outside while they put my order
in.
Asian lovers stroll by, feeding
one another gelato. A valet driver whistles at his colleague from the curb, his
face lighting up with laughter. So much life, buzzing all around me, but
nothing dwells within. Not since he passed away. Not since I’ve dedicated every
ounce of energy to my work. My job as a graphic designer fuels me, brings me
joy, but not life. Not the kind that existed before.
Now I rely on biking, hiking,
and women to dull the ache. We all have vices. I’d like to think mine are
healthy. Biking equals exercise and fresh air. Win. Hiking equals more exercise
and more fresh air.
Double win. Women equals sex, and we all need that. Triple
win.
Still, somewhere, the light
faded out. And I don’t even know how to begin getting it back.
Author Bio
Rachael Wade is the Amazon
bestselling author of The Preservation Series, The Resistance Trilogy, and
the upcoming sci-fi series, The Keepers Trilogy. When she’s not
writing, she’s busy learning French, watching too many movies, and learning
how to protect animals and the environment. Visit her at www.RachaelWade.com and www.LightsOnOutreach.com, or come chat with her on Twitter
via @RachaelWade.
Author links:
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