“He looks like he could plow my north field without a horse.”
Sonja Watts needs to re-enter the workforce after divorcing her husband of thirteen years. Taking the advice of her sister Birdie and her best friend Estelle, she signs up for a six-week course for entrepreneurs; hoping that she will learn everything she needs to know to build a business to support herself and her kids.
On the first night of class, Sonja is able to ignore the fact that most of the students were younger than her by ten years or more. It was what she expected. But when the instructor walks in, she debates packing up here new twelve hundred dollar laptop and walking out.
Sonja couldn’t remember the last time she looked at a man with little more interest than she give a sturdy dining room table. She was just disinterested.
But wow, did Atlas James grab her interest.
Atlas hasn’t been interested in dating since he moved back home California. Adjusting to new found success in the town where everyone sees him as that big, geeky guy who cut grass for pocket change when they were in high school has been awkward. Aside from a couple of one night stands, he hasn’t really wanted to pursue a relationship with anyone until sweet, shy Sonja signs up for his class.
Compact, curvy, and juicy in all the right places, being in the same room Sonja Watts ignites all of those giddy feelings he felt when he had his first crush. He wants to know her and he’s pretty sure she wants to know him — despite the age difference that she seems to be so fixated on.
With her future riding on the success of her new business, Sonja has no time for distraction. Will she be able to keep her eyes on her own paper or will they remain glued to Atlas’s biceps and thick thighs?
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chapter one
Sonja
The strip of shops, eateries, and galleries in The Village of West Greenville were dark and quiet when I pulled my Subaru into the parking lot a few blocks away from The CoWorking Spot. In the last few years, this part of town had experienced some growth with the arrival of a few restaurants and specialty shops. But that was just a handful of businesses; most of which closed at or around six o’clock, leaving the streets quiet on a late summer evening. I took advantage of this moment of quiet. Closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to settle the nervous butterflies in my stomach.
About a month ago, I allowed myself to be convinced to sign up for a six-week entrepreneurship course— something I’ve been regretting since the day the payment cleared.
What makes me think I could run my own business?
The only thing I’d managed in the last ten years was a household, and occasionally, the front desk at my ex-husband’s real estate offices. Those skills didn’t necessarily translate into the sort of hustle one needed to be an entrepreneur. But at the time, my sisters Birdie and Agostina, as well as my friend Estelle, made it seem like a great idea to start a business with the skincare products I made from the herbs and medicinal flowers in my garden. And I agreed. Or maybe the gallon of wine I drank that night agreed because now that I was sitting in my car with my brand new laptop, in a brand new laptop bag, I wondered if I’d temporarily lost my mind.
The Bluetooth in my car announced that I had an incoming call from Estelle Murphy.
“Hello?”
“Get out of the car, Sonja,” she ordered.
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” I groaned and opened the car door, slightly annoyed that she knew me so well.
“Because you’re more than ready for it. We’ve gone through this. Get out of the car, and I’ll walk down there with you.”
“Okay. I’m coming.”
I’d arrived a good forty minutes early, mostly because I needed to stop by Ink Blue Yoga to get a pep talk from my Estelle.
Ink Blue, Estelle’s yoga studio,was one of my favorite places. The front windows went floor to ceiling, which made the interior look and feel bright and warm. The smooth, shiny hardwood floors were warm in the winter months and cool in the summer. They welcomed bare feet and I almost wanted to drop my bags, strip down and get in a few vinyasas. Estelle was good at this business thing and was brilliant at getting her studio seen. If I checked our town’s hashtag on Instagram on any given day, her yoga studio always showed up in the top nine.
“Hey, Soni,” my friend said and gave me a knowing look as I came in. “Amelia?”
The woman sweeping at the far end of the studio looked up.
“I’m going to walk Soni down to the The Coworking Spot. I’ll be right back.”
“No, problem. I’ll get everything set up for the six-thirty class.”
She grabbed two bottles of water out of the cold case near the cash wrap and handed me one. I opened it and followed her back out to the sidewalk.
“Okay,” she said. “Out with it. What are you feeling right now?”
I gnawed on my bottom lip. “I’m nervous.”
[Read more…] about A TASTE OF HER OWN MEDICINE BY TASHA L. HARRISON
Over the past few months of the #WeNeedDiverseRomance campaign I’ve been getting to know multicultural authors that were new to me. During that time I’ve come to the realization that in reality, this campaign isn’t just about blazing a path for new authors of color. There are plenty out there right now that we don’t know about. So periodically I’ll be sharing an interview with authors of all colors. However, I will focus on getting to know authors of color and spotlighting their work.
