Last week we announced that Judy Powell’s HOT SUMMER was our new Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!

Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded this one already, you’re in for a treat!

Hot Summer

by Judy Powell

3.7 stars – 27 Reviews

Kindle Price: 99 cents

Text-to-Speech: Enabled

A hot-tempered spitfire and a sexy, arrogant man – put them together and sparks fly!

After her first embarrassing encounter Summer Jones vows to stay away from suave record producer, Lance Munroe. But then she ends up working for the man. Her quick temper and sharp tongue keep landing her in hot water with him but no matter how hard she tries she can’t deny her growing attraction for him. Then they go on a business trip to Jamaica – and her world is turned upside down.

Lance is intrigued by the feisty woman who practically tells him off the first time they meet. When they begin working together he realizes how much he enjoys the challenge of taming the little tigress. But, before he knows it, he’s the one caught in the snare of passion. The tables are turned – the tigress has tamed the lion.

If you love the sizzle of a romance between two strong-willed individuals, follow Summer and Lance from Chicago to Jamaica and be swept away in the thrill of their hot summer.

Reviews

“…steamy sexual tension and strong willed, intriguing characters; this incredibly engrossing novel is sure to keep the reader’s attention.”  THE WEEKLY STAR, NA EDITION

“…interesting characters, fabulous settings, fascinating culture and spine tingling romance…” PRIDE NEWSPAPER, CANADA

“Hot Summer grabbed me from the beginning and never let up, with one conflict after another as Lance and Summer’s romance heats up.” BETH ANDERSON, multi-award winning author, USA.

“Powell delivers a wonderful story.” PRIDE NEWSPAPER, CANADA

“The story is set in Chicago and Jamaica and takes readers on a sensational ride across a sensational island.”MONTREAL COMMUNITY CONTACT

“Fabulous…I simply couldn’t put it down until I’d read it from cover to cover. It was a fun read. I look forward to the next.” DJ, CKLN 88.1 FM, Toronto

And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:

1

Summer picked up her tray of drinks and, balancing it gingerly on her raised right palm, turned towards the patio.  It was her fourth day at work but already she had begun to look forward to the daily display of beauty at the restaurant as the setting July sun cast red and gold hues over the waters of Lake Michigan.  The day before, she’d been able to slip away to the balcony for a few moments to drink in the colors and breathe in the warm breeze that blew over the lake.

Taking a break would be out of the question today.  It was Friday and the restaurant was full of Chicagoans as well as tourists, all determined to enjoy the beautiful summer evening.

On reaching table seven Summer gave a polite smile and began to place drinks beside each of the three clients as well as at the unoccupied place at the table.  Two men, one sandy haired and the other dark and muscled, sat with an elegant honey-colored woman with flowing black hair and scarlet nails.  She’d been told they were waiting for a friend and was asked to bring an extra drink, a Pina Colada.  She guessed another woman would be joining the group.

As the table was in the most private corner of the patio Summer was pleased to find that she didn’t have to shout to be heard.  She straightened and, still smiling, asked, “Would you like to place your orders now?”

The men smiled back but the woman totally ignored her.  Instead, she stretched her perfectly manicured hand for her glass and took a sip.

Then she turned haughty eyes to Summer.  “You brought me the wrong drink,” she said.

Summer’s smile faltered.  “I’m sure you told me you wanted a virgin Strawberry Daiquiri?”  Her voice held just a hint of uncertainty.

“No, I didn’t.  I told you to bring me a Strawberry Daiquiri and a virgin Pina Colada.”  The woman put the glass down and sat back in her chair with a look of annoyance.

“I’m sorry.  Let me change that right away.”  Summer reached for the glass but the muscle-bound man put his hand on hers and gently pushed it away.  He was laughing.

“Come off it, Monisha.  Give the girl a break.  I heard you order a virgin Strawberry Daiquiri so don’t go changing your mind now.”  He leaned back in his chair and grinned at the woman.  “You do this every time we go out.  Now I’ve got Mike as witness.”

Monisha’s eyes flashed daggers at him but he only laughed and blew her a kiss.  She pouted for a moment longer then, as if suddenly bored with her game, she shrugged and turned her attention back to the frothy drink.

With a barely audible sigh of relief Summer flipped open her book and waited for the guests to order.  She hadn’t written the drink order down.  After all, there were only three of them.  Still, after what had just happened she decided she’d better take notes.

She knew people like Monisha, women who suddenly found themselves with a little power, who wanted to use it at every opportunity.  She’d been on the job only four days and couldn’t afford to mess things up.  She definitely was not going to give this woman a second chance to chew her out.

“What’s your house special?” The man they’d called Mike was flipping through the menu.

“Today we have chicken with black-eyed peas and yellow rice served with okra gumbo,” she said brightly, glad for the diversion.  “There’s also peach cobbler for dessert.”

“Sounds good.”  He nodded and handed the menu to her.  “I’ll have that.”

“I’ll go for your seafood gumbo with red beans and rice,” said the other man.  “The gumbo here is always good.”

“And you, ma’am?”  Summer turned to the bored-looking woman who sat drumming her long fingernails on the table.

“Bring me two orders of baked snapper with yams and fried plantains,” she said, stifling a yawn.

Then, as Summer began scribbling on her pad, the woman stopped her.  “No, change that.  Bring me just one order of the baked snapper.  Make the other one oxtail and beans with rice.”

Summer didn’t bother to look up but simply scratched out what she had written on the pad and started again.  The two men chuckled.

“Don’t get yourself all tied up again, Monisha,” Mike teased.  “If the order gets messed up, next time it will be all your fault.”

Ignoring the banter, Summer thanked them and headed back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Summer, how’s it going out there?”  The cook’s heavy body shook as he stirred an aromatic concoction in a huge iron pot.  He laid the large spoon on a saucer, reached up for one of the copper pots that hung above his head, then yelled, “Hurry it up with them carrots, Lisa.  You’re holdin’ me up.”

A slim girl wearing a chef’s hat and a white apron quickly brought a tray of chopped carrots and the heavy-set man emptied it into the bubbling stew.  He turned back to Summer.  “So, how is it?”

“It’s okay, Brian.”  Summer shrugged. “Busy like crazy but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well said, for a new girl.  You picked the busiest time of year to start working here.  It can’t be easy on you but you seem to be holding your own pretty good.  You’re covering Maria’s tables too, right?”

“Yeah.” Summer nodded.  “She couldn’t have picked a worse day to call in sick, but it’s okay.  I’m hangin’ in there.”  Summer rested her tray on the counter and picked up another one laden with food. “Table four, right?”

“Yup.  Just get that out there and come right back.  I’ve got two more trays coming up.”  Brian slammed a saucepan on the burner.  He looked across at the younger man who was stacking dishes into the machine.  “Keep ‘em coming, Jason.  We’re gonna run out soon.”

Summer grabbed the heavy tray, backed out of the hectic kitchen and headed for table four.  As she walked carefully with her load she spied Ted Jackson standing by the door, watching her.  The manager had been skeptical about hiring her to replace a server who had recently retired.  She lacked experience, he’d said, but she’d convinced him that she was a fast learner and was good for the job.  He took her on board but kept watching her like a hawk since hiring her.  All his employees had been with him for at least four years.  Except her.  So far she hadn’t messed up but she knew she had to be on her p’s and q’s until he was totally comfortable with her.

She’d thought this job would be a walkover but soon realized that it required speed, a great memory, skill at handling heavy trays, and a placid spirit in the face of irate customers.  With Mr. Jackson’s eyes on her Summer was the perfect hostess.  She carefully served each dish at table four, smiled pleasantly and asked if she could be of further assistance.  They were a cheerful group, five women dining together, obviously good friends.  They thanked Summer for her help and with a nod she headed back to the kitchen.

It was almost half an hour before Brian called Summer to collect table seven’s tray.  She’d been so busy dealing with the other eleven tables that she’d totally forgotten about that group.  She quickly grabbed the tray and set out for the patio.  She plastered a smile on her face and steeled herself for the complaints.

The orange of the sunset had softened to a rose colored twilight and as Summer approached the table in the far corner of the patio she realized that the fourth person had arrived.  The shadowy figure at the end was partially hidden by the artificial palm leaves which were part of the decor.  The figure was definitely too tall to be a woman.

A well-muscled, broad shouldered man sat in the corner.  The dimness made it difficult to see his eyes but a strip of light from a nearby lamp illuminated a slip of moustache over a chiseled mouth.  As Summer approached, the strong lips parted in a sudden smile then the man threw his head back and laughed out loud.  The unexpected laughter caught her by surprise and she found herself smiling involuntarily.  When she got to the table the slight smile was still on her lips and she opened her mouth to quickly issue an apology for the delay.

Before she could get a word out the woman swung her eyes round.  “So.  You finally grace us with your presence.  Is this the kind of service you offer here?  Just so you know, it’s terrible.”

Summer was taken aback by the harsh comment and her face grew hot with embarrassment.  She spoke quickly, the words coming out far less elegantly than she had intended.  “I’m very sorry, ma’am.  The restaurant…it’s so crowded on a Friday.  I really apologize for your wait.”

Monisha’s scowl deepened.  “How hard can it be to get some food to four people in a reasonable amount of time?  God, you would think it’s rocket science.”

“Ma’am, again, my apologies,” Summer said, struggling to keep her voice calm and her face pleasant, “but Fridays are extremely busy for us during the summertime and we’re short one server today.  Please bear with us.”

“That’s not my problem.”  Monisha said coldly.  “We’ve been waiting for over half an hour and that’s not acceptable.  Some waitress you are.”  Under her breath she added, “God, where do they get these people?”

Suddenly, the man in the corner spoke, “Monisha, that’s enough.  Let’s not create a scene here.”

But it was too late.  Summer had had enough.  Her feet ached from running back and forth for the past six hours and her arms were tired from holding the heavy tray.  And now this woman was getting personal.  The control she had been fighting so hard to maintain finally snapped.

She deposited the tray of food on a nearby table and folded her arms across her chest.  “How dare you speak to me like that?  If you’re not satisfied with my service then speak to the manager.  Please.  But don’t sit there and throw insults at me.  I won’t accept that from you or anybody.”  Summer’s breath was tight in her chest and with every word her voice grew harder. “I’m neither your pet nor your servant and I expect respect and courtesy just as you expect it from me.”

Without waiting for a reply she picked up the tray again then turned back to the table.  “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to do my job.”  She ignored the woman who sat glaring up at her and pretended not to notice the chuckles from the men who had been there earlier.  She avoided the eyes of the newcomer who remained silent in the shadows.  Her face was rigid and her movements quick.  In seconds she had set the plates on the table.  With her face still grim she said, “Enjoy your meals.”  Without another word she marched back to the kitchen, the empty tray under her arm.

Summer burst through the swinging doors and slammed the tray down on the counter so hard that five pairs of eyes turned to her in surprise.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?”  Brian rested his knife down and frowned as he saw her expression.  “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so ticked off I could scream!”  Summer’s chest heaved and she clenched her fists tightly by her side.

Lisa had stopped chopping carrots and Jason put his dish towel down and turned towards her.  Clem, Brian’s assistant and Carla, one of the servers, stopped mid-conversation and stared at her in anticipation.  They were all eager to hear what had happened.

“Back to work.  All of you,” Brian growled and grabbed Summer’s elbow.  He pulled her towards the back entrance.  “What happened out there?”

“Brian, there was this woman…she just got on my last nerve!”

“They come in all types, Summer.  You know that.  You’ve just got to know how to deal with them.”

“I know all that, Brian, but this one just got on the wrong side of me.  I had to put her in her place.  She was just too much.  Can you believe she had the nerve to tell me off because she had to wait half an hour?  It’s Friday, for God’s sake.  Who the hell doesn’t have to wait a little while for their food?”  Her voice rose as she spoke.  “I just felt like ripping that weave right off her head.  That woman…”

“Alright, Summer, just calm down.  You’re going to run into lots more like her so just suck it up.”  Brian’s firm voice silenced her.  “We’ve got lots more people to feed.  Now grab this tray and go get table three.”

Summer grunted in frustration then turned to do Brian’s bidding.  At that moment Ted Jackson stepped through the door, his face stern.  Summer’s heart sank and she slowly put the tray back down on the counter.

“Miss Jones, what just happened out there?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson?”  Summer stalled.

“Don’t play dumb with me.  You know what I’m talking about.  You just insulted one of our patrons.”

“I can explain…”

“There’s nothing to explain.  I saw everything.  You were rude to our guests.”  He folded his arms across his chest and scowled at her.  “Do you think I built my business that way?  Obviously you have a serious temper problem but you’d better get it under control or else you won’t be working here for long.”

Summer’s heart raced at the manager’s last remark.  It had taken her a while to find this job and she could not afford to lose it now.  Damn her for her quick temper.  It was always getting her in trouble.

“Mr. Jackson, I’m sorry.  I just lost my cool for a minute but it won’t happen again.  I promise.”

“You’re sure that’s a promise you can keep?”  His voice was calmer now but his face did not soften.

“Definitely.  I really need this job.”  Summer lowered her voice and tried to sound humble and subdued.  ”I’ll make sure to keep my temper in control from now on.”

“Good.”  The manager seemed convinced.  “And you can start by going back to table seven and apologizing.”

“What?”  Summer’s mouth fell open.  She closed it quickly then started again.  “What did you say?”

“You heard me.  You either apologize or you no longer have a job here.  You insulted some very important people – regulars at this establishment, big spenders.  That table has been reserved every Friday for the past five weeks for Lance Munroe and his group and I’m not about to lose that business.”

At her questioning look he continued, “He’s not just any customer, Miss Jones.  He’s one of Chicago’s most successful record producers.  And, as luck would have it, he arrived just in time to witness your deplorable behavior.”  He shook his head.  There was a pained expression on his face.  “And the woman you insulted, don’t you know who she is?”

Summer shook her head in bewilderment.

“That’s Monisha Stone.  What rock do you live under?  Who in Chicago doesn’t know Monisha Stone?  She’s the newest pop singer from this city.”

“I…I haven’t had much time to keep up.”  She heard a snigger behind her and knew Jason and Clem were enjoying every minute of the episode.

“I can see that.  But anyway,” Mr. Jackson turned away and headed back through the swinging doors, “you know what you have to do.  Get on with it, please.”  He left Summer standing, silent and fuming, in the doorway.

“Summer.”  Brian’s voice brought her back to the present and she turned towards him.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

She sighed then smiled wryly. “Yeah, I’m okay.  Just not looking forward to humiliating myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.”  The big man put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.  “Just do it, get it over with, and move on.  You want to keep this job, right?”

“You know I do.”  She sighed again.  “Alright, I’ll do it.  But I hope to God I never set eyes on that woman again as long as I live.”

As she turned to go Brian stopped her. “Hey, Summer.”

“Yes?”

“You were joking when you said you didn’t know who Monisha Stone was, right?”

“No, I wasn’t.  Who says I have to know every singer in this city?  Knowing them won’t put money in my pocket.”

Shaking his head, Brian grinned then turned back to the chicken on his chopping board.  “Girl, you need a life.”

She shook a playful fist at him then flounced through the door.

The apology came hard for Summer.  She felt she would choke on every word.  As she spoke she stared at a spot above the woman’s head, refusing to make eye contact with her tormentor.  She held her body rigid and inside she was seething but she kept her voice calm and steady and forced herself to speak until she had exhausted the words she had quickly rehearsed.

When it was finally over she looked down and found herself staring straight into the amused dark eyes of Lance Munroe.

A slight smile softened his firm lips and as he lounged in his chair, watching her through half closed eyes, she had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her.  She felt hot blood rise to her face and she bit hard on her lower lip and clenched her fist at her side.  After seeing the way he was looking at her she felt angrier still, even more than when she was in the middle of her apology to the woman who now sat staring at her, smiling smugly.

Totally ignoring the woman and the two men who sat on either side of her, Summer focused her glare on the man in the shadows. “Do you find this funny?” she demanded, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

The man’s lips parted in a slow smile and he drawled, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Something about the way he spoke the words made Summer catch her breath.  Strangely, her anger suddenly disappeared and her raging emotions were replaced by a feeling of confusion then anticipation.  She’d been so ready to blast him with words that would have shriveled any man.  Instead, she was as tongue-tied and breathless as a school girl, and all because of seven simple words the man had spoken.  No, not seven simple words – seven huskily and softly spoken words that had stopped her dead in her tracks; words expressed in a strangely melodious voice that sent tingles up her spine.  What in heaven’s name was happening to her?

She opened her mouth to speak but, finding herself totally at a loss for words, she snapped it shut and scowled at the smiling man.  Without another word she turned and stalked off.

2

“But Mom, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Summer, remember it’s your mother you’re talking to.  I know you better than you know yourself.  I’m sure you wouldn’t have found yourself in that position if you’d kept your temper in check.”

“But I was real calm, Mom,” Summer said earnestly.

“Really?”  The older woman seemed unconvinced.

“Well, okay, my control slipped, but just once.  I just couldn’t stand there and let that woman talk to me that way – no matter who she is!”  Summer pouted, wishing her mother would just accept that she wasn’t at fault.

“Child, I know you were upset but there are some times when you just have to swallow your pride and err on the side of peace.”

“Mom, I’m not like you.”  Summer frowned.  “I’m not the ‘turn the other cheek’ type.  I just can’t let people walk all over me.”

“Hush, child, it’s got nothing to do with people walking all over you.  Of course there are situations where you have to defend yourself but you have to make that decision with a mind that’s under control, not one that’s red hot with temper.”  She wagged her finger under Summer’s nose.  “You’d better keep that temper of yours in check or else it’s going to get you in some serious trouble one day.”

Summer smiled wryly.  “I’m already there.”

The older woman smiled back, “No, not yet.  This was just a warning.  Now take heed and change your attitude, young lady.”

“I’ll try,” Summer said in a subdued tone, then grinned mischievously at her mother.

“Naughty girl,” she laughed and pinched Summer’s cheek.  “You’re always pulling my leg.  But you’ll learn…one day.”

Outside of a few distant cousins Edna Jones was the only family Summer had.  Her father had long since passed away, the victim of liver disease which had resulted from years of alcohol abuse.  That had been eleven years ago when she was only thirteen.  But for Summer it had been eleven years of relief from the abuse that her father used to mete out to her mother whenever the alcohol turned him into the monster she had grown to fear.

Her mother had cried at the funeral but Summer hadn’t shed a tear.  She just stared at the stiff, lifeless body of the man who had raised her and thanked God for finally taking him.  At thirteen she had already endured years of watching her mother suffer, and she had raged inside at her father’s cruelty.  She would beg him to stop; she promised to be a perfect daughter to him if only he would stop hurting her mother.  His expressions of shame and regret came easily and his promises were frequent.  But he never stopped.  Then her fear of him turned to hatred.  She stopped pleading with him and instead, became cold and silent in his presence, her eyes the only part of her that spoke.  One day she would kill him, she thought.  Her child’s innocence was replaced by an adult awareness of suffering and pain, and a woman’s consciousness of the latent power of a man to control the mind as well as the body.

Never, she resolved then, would she love a man so much that she could not walk away from him.  No man would ever have the power over her that her father had had over her mother all those years.  For her there could be no love so great that she could not tell a man to get the hell out of her life.

“Summer, did you hear me?”

“Yes, Mom?”  Summer blinked, her mother’s voice suddenly bringing her back to the present.

“I was asking you about your thesis.  How is it coming along?”

“Oh, sorry, Mom.  I was a million miles away.”

“I could see that.”

“It’s been rough going because I have so little time to dedicate to my research.  You know, I took this waitress job because the hours were flexible and I thought it would’ve freed me up a lot,” she said with a shrug, “but I guess my timing was off because the restaurant has been really busy.  The manager even asked me to work extra hours a couple of times.  That wasn’t in my plans when I took the job.”

“I know.  You said you wanted a part-time job so you could have enough time for your graduate studies.”  Edna looked confused.  “So how is that you’re full time now?”

“I’m still part time but it’s just that sometimes I’m called in to do extra hours and it really throws my study schedule off.”

As she saw her mother’s face get serious she quickly added, “Don’t get me wrong.  The extra money is always welcome.  It’s just that I don’t want to lose focus now.  I’m just one project away from my Master’s and I can’t afford to let anything slow me down.”

“Of course you’re right, dear.” Her mother sighed then closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillow.

“Mom, are you alright?”  Summer leaned forward and put a hand on her mother’s brow.  “Is the pain back?”

“No, not the pain.  Just felt a little dizzy.”

“Want me to get some smelling salts?”  Summer rose to leave the room but her mother stopped her.

“No, dear.  Just give me a moment.” She breathed heavily. “I’ll be alright in a second.”

“Oh, Ma, why did this have to happen to you?”  Summer’s voice trembled as she spoke.  “You’ve been through so much already.”

“Such is life, child.  We just have to make the best of what life has to offer.”

“But it’s not fair.”

“Nobody ever promised us that life would be fair, Summer.”  Edna patted her hand.  “We’ve just got to take the blows, pick ourselves up and keep on going.”

With tears in her eyes Summer hugged her mother’s thin body and whispered, “You’re so brave.  I just don’t know how you do it.”

“I’m not brave, child, just practical.”

“Oh, Mom.”

Summer sat on the bed and put her arms around her mother’s shoulders, and rocked her back and forth as she stared out the window.  They were on the fifteenth floor of the Serenity Nursing Home on Martin Luther King Drive and from that height she could see the afternoon sun reflected on the shimmering blue water of Lake Michigan.

This was Edna Jones’ home and had been for the past six years, ever since she’d fallen ill.  She’d been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, and hers had been one of the less common forms of the disease which progress rapidly without any periods of remission.

At first she had experienced only slight numbness in her left arm when she woke each morning.  She hadn’t worried too much about it at the time and had simply attributed it to the arthritis which plagued her from time to time.  But the numbness spread to her left leg and then to her lower back and, giving in to her daughter’s expressions of alarm, she went to the family doctor with her complaint.  Tests were done but nothing conclusive was determined and after a while Edna became accustomed to the numbness and simply ignored it.

Then one morning she woke up to find that the muscles on the left side of her face had gone dead.  She could neither blink her left eye nor wrinkle the left side of her forehead and when she spoke only the right side of her face moved.  She was immediately placed in the care of a neurologist who put her through a battery of tests – a blood test, an electrocardiogram, Magnetic Resonance Imaging to check for lesions on the brain, and a spinal tap.

After two months of tests she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, a debilitating disease which could range from mild and merely annoying, to severe and crippling.  To Edna’s dismay and to her daughter’s horror she was told that she had the severe form of the disease.  She would gradually lose control of her muscles and would probably even lose her sight.  She was also told there was no cure.

Always practical, the forty-nine year old woman prepaid her daughter’s college tuition then checked herself into a nursing home.  Summer had pleaded with her mother to let her nurse her back to health but Edna was determined that her daughter should achieve her dream of becoming a journalist.  She convinced Summer to live on the Northwestern University campus for all four years of college, studying during the school year and working during the summers. The only time she left campus was to visit her mother.

Now, six years later, Summer had completed her Bachelor’s degree and was in her second year of the Master’s Program in Communication.  This time she couldn’t look to her mother for financial assistance so she funded her education through a partial tuition scholarship and a federal grant.  She no longer lived on campus so, in addition to her studies, she had to find time for a part-time job that could cover the rent for her tiny studio apartment and the rest of her bills.  She lived frugally and was just able to survive.

This didn’t bother her.  She’d never been into flashy clothes, jewelry or partying.  She had goals in life and knew that the sacrifice she made now would allow her a more comfortable life in the future.

Her greatest concern right now was her mother.  She wished there was something she could do to ease her suffering.  Although the doctors were making no promises they had mentioned surgery as a possibility to stem her decline but the surgery would cost a lot of money.

That evening Summer was uncharacteristically quiet at work.  Normally upbeat, she felt like she had lost some of her spark.  Brian noticed right away.

“Hey, girl.  Got a lot on your mind?”

Summer gave him a weak smile.  ”I’m okay, Brian.  Just one of those days,” she reassured him, trying to avoid too many questions.  She’d never been very expressive about her feelings and tended to keep personal problems to herself.  Since childhood she’d had to work out her problems on her own and, no matter how friendly Brian was, she had no intention of sharing her pain with him.

The truth was, she was very worried about her mother’s condition which seemed to be worsening.  Edna had lost the use of her legs and had been confined to a wheelchair over two years ago.  But now she was having pain in her eyes, too.  She also complained of dark shadows that floated constantly across her vision.  Summer feared that these were signs of the onset of blindness.

“Sure you’re okay?”  Brian’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“I’m sure,” she said, nodding.  Then with a smile she demanded, “Now where’s that tray for table five?”

Summer busied herself with serving the meals.  Gradually, her gray mood lifted a little and as she worked she smiled pleasantly with the guests.  It was Monday so things were slow and she was even able to engage in light conversation with a few of them.  She’d been on the job only a week and a half now, but already she had established relationships with some of the faithful ones who came to the restaurant practically every night.

She had just learned the name of a young couple she’d seen in the restaurant at least three times.  They seemed so much in love that she couldn’t help smiling at them whenever she served their table.  Tonight they introduced themselves as Kevin and Carolyn Madison and explained that they’d gotten married just two weeks earlier and were still trying to get settled in their new apartment in Hyde Park.

“You’ve chosen a great area to live in,” Summer told them.  “You’re close to downtown and all the night life and since you’re right by the lake you’ll be able to go jogging or biking.  Many young professionals live in Hyde Park – you’ll make lots of friends.”

“That’s what we heard,” Carolyn replied, “that’s why we decided to live there.  But also,” she paused then said shyly, “because the area has some of the best schools.  We want to have lots of kids.”

“Maybe not lots,” Kevin smiled at his blushing wife and took her hand in his, “but at least three.  We love kids.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Summer teased and they all three laughed good-naturedly.

The brief conversation with the Madisons put Summer in a slightly pensive mood.  She normally considered herself a tough cookie, definitely not the emotional type.  She didn’t know if it was because they looked so blissfully happy together or because they seemed to be looking forward so much to having children.  She only knew that when she turned away from their table, still smiling, her eyes were misty with unshed tears.

She brushed at them furtively, praying that they hadn’t noticed.  They’d probably think she was weird.  These days nobody cried over young couples in love.  What the heck was wrong with her?

She sniffed and, dragging her emotions back under control, lifted her head again.  Her heart jerked violently as she stared into the piercing eyes of Lance Munroe.

Oh my God, had he been sitting there all this time?  Had he seen her wipe her eyes?  She could only hope that in the subdued lighting of the restaurant he hadn’t seen her brief display of emotion.  Oh Lord.  This was more embarrassing than having to apologize in front of him.

Their eyes were locked together for only a split second but to Summer it seemed like eons.  She dragged her gaze from his face and hurried back to the safety of the kitchen.

To Summer’s dismay she was again assigned to table seven for the night.  She had taken refuge in the kitchen at the sight of him but she couldn’t hide from the man all night.  She was normally anything but a wimp so she couldn’t understand her sudden nervousness at the thought of serving him again.  Come on, Summer, get a grip.  She took a deep breath, straightened her back just the way her mother had taught her, and marched out to table seven.

“May I help you, sir?”  Her voice was sugar-sweet as she held the pen to her order pad and waited.

“Hello, again.”  His voice had the warm, rich smoothness of molasses.  His dark gaze traveled slowly over her face, then down the rest of her, then came back to rest on her now rigid mouth.

How dare he scrutinize me like this, she fumed inwardly.  She felt she could almost taste the arrogance of the man.

“How’re you doing tonight, little spitfire?”  The rich bass of his voice was beautiful to her ears but the obvious amusement in his tone made the hair on her nape stand up.

She stood even straighter and gave him a cold stare. “I’m very well, thank you, sir.  May I take your order?”

To her surprise he laughed out loud, a deep, husky laugh that made her think of the low rumble of thunder in the distance.  Unable to stop herself her only thought just then was, the man’s voice is so beautiful.

As she watched his face she had to admit that he was beautiful, too.  He was like a bronzed Adonis.  His brilliant white teeth glistened against his lips and the natural waves of his low-cut hair shone black as midnight on his head.  His broad forehead and thick brows shielded dark eyes fringed with thick lashes.  A thin, perfectly shaped moustache framed firm lips.

But, despite the attractive picture he posed, what really fascinated Summer was the deep dimple in his left cheek.  It gave him a boyish, playful air which totally disarmed her.  How could she stay angry with someone who looked so mischievous?

He leaned forward in his chair, a look of keen interest on his face, and asked, “What is your name?”

Caught off guard by his sudden question she blurted out, “Summer…Summer Jones.”

“Summer Jones.”  The way he said her name made it sound strange, almost exotic.

“Lance Munroe.”  He said and extended his hand to her as he rose.

Summer stepped back involuntarily and stared up at the man, totally ignoring his outstretched hand.  While he had been seated she hadn’t noticed just how tall he was.  Now, as he towered over her five feet four inch frame, she could see that he was well over six feet tall.

Suddenly realizing that he was still holding his hand out to her she took it and immediately felt his latent power as he enveloped her hand in a firm grip.  As he shook her hand he gave her a delicious, dimpled smile.  “I’m pleased to meet you, Summer Jones.”

She did not return the greeting but simply dropped her gaze to his chest and pulled her hand none too gently from his grip.  “Aah…are you ready to place your order now?”

“Summer, Summer,” he chided playfully, “so businesslike.  You’re the type who never gets distracted from her work, right?”  He sat down again and looked up at her.

“I do my job.”  Her curt response was given with the intention of shutting him up.  She was good at that.  Many men had suffered from her sharp tongue and she was prepared to use it on this one, no matter how smooth and charming he thought he was.  He was an arrogant one to think that he had succeeded in getting on her good side.  It hadn’t worked.  She still remembered how embarrassed she’d been as he’d grinned at her that night.  She would never let this man have the advantage over her again.

“Now,” she said firmly, “are you ready to order, sir?”

Continued….

Click here to download the entire book: Judy Powell’s HOT SUMMER >>>