Sunday Snippet: Selling Tickets

Another crazy week with weather. At least we didn't get the huge ice storm the forecasters predicted. Thank the universe.

This week in television saw a lot of Hawaii Five-0. I'm developing a healthy obsession with Alex O'Loughlin and Scott Caan. I'm working on season six and then it'll be a waiting period until season seven is done airing. Gotta say I'm pretty pleased with the continuity on this show. That said, I do have a couple of questions that haven't been answered yet. Maybe they'll have a resolution later?

Still need to catch up on The Librarians and Teen Wolf. Gotham returns this week, I think. I'm interested in seeing how the death of Mario is resolved.

Missed the return of Agents of SHIELD. Playing catch up on that one, too. So many good shows, so little time.

Tonight's post is from Selling Tickets, a novella that started with a two-word prompt of "move along". I had an immediate scene pop into my head and went on a roll with brainstorming.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Kurt Trevarthan owns a popular nightclub and trusts Winnie Clay, one of his oldest friends, to keep things running smoothly. He never dreams he'll have to rely on her when his old man shows up—after a decade away—on the anniversary of Kurt's mom's death, but Winnie comes through and keeps the Trevarthan men from killing each other.

And a snippety peek…

Winnifrid Clay cast her critical gaze over the interior space of Solange's, the new club her partner, Kurt Trevarthan, built almost from the ground up. She always did a final walkthrough, looking for missed details. Final inspections were long over, but Winnie hadn't put her stamp of approval on the place yet.

Nostalgia filled her. She'd been with Kurt for a dozen years and this place meant a lot to him. A nudge of wistfulness crowded into her brain. She'd been in love with Kurt since day one. But… while he slept with her on a regular basis, he never asked for more.

And he never would.

Didn't matter she got the reasons he'd decline asking for a life with her. And she did get them, had been witness to the final blowup between Kurt and his dad and helped pick up the pieces. She'd worked alongside Kurt to move forward and stay off his dad's radar ever since.

"But someday, you'll have to deal with him, if only to close the book once and for all."

"Close what book, Win?" The head bartender wore a quizzical look.

Winnie shook her head. "Nothing, Frank. You know I'm always talking to myself." She waggled her fingers and moved along, taking in the DJ booth.

State of the art equipment and a splashy design would keep patrons on the dance floor, which would make them nice and thirsty and boost tab sales. Kurt would start out and stay in the black with this club. After helping him turn two other struggling bars around, Winnie confidently believed he'd succeed with this near to his heart venture.

With or without her.

Yes, she'd created the look for Solange's. She'd followed every step of the process from buying the building, to renovation, to running interference with the contractors and suppliers. Kurt's name resided on the deed to the property purchased outright five years ago with no mortgage, but Winnie's touch everywhere else.

She took pride in the accomplishment…

But the sense of being settled after a job well done escaped her this time. Wanderlust hovered just over the horizon and Winnie stood at a crossroads. Continue working and sleeping with Kurt as the status quo or shake things up and see what else life had to offer.

What do you want, Winnie? Her inner voice kept asking the same question.

"I have no idea and that's the problem."

Okay, she had a general idea. Once the club opening launched, she wanted time. To think, reflect, and decide what her next move would be. Two weeks should do it.

The office door opened and Kurt strode out. Even after a dozen years, her heart still kicked in her chest. Looks aside—because rugged handsomeness only went so far—his intensity and focus drew her in. Dressed down for a day of stocking alcohol for opening night, his jeans rode low on his hips and the black t-shirt clung to his torso and his solid biceps stretched the sleeves.

Make that two weeks… alone. With no Kurt to distract her from thinking clearly.

I'm excited to finish this one and see how it turns out.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin