Never Again Once More by Mary B. Morrison

first sight?”
    Jada rested her vision on his long, thick fingers—hopefully a good sign of what he packed in storage. She studied the tips, base, and middle sections. There was a direct correlation between the shape of a man’s fingers and his penis.
    “I used to believe in love. Now I’m a firm believer in happiness. Love comes and goes, but I can be happy forever if I choose. It’s all in my attitude.” Jada opened both of her hands.
    “Okay. Then, I’ll admit. I was happy as a kid on Christmas Day when you stood next to me.” Lawrence laughed.
    Of all the holidays in the year, why did he have to mention Christmas? Damn, his sex appeal divided her attention, so Jada eased on her sunglasses. Lawrence’s mannerisms were fluent, suave, and inviting, three positive signs of an experienced lover. Not to mention his kissable lips that always displayed a hint of moisture. “Why? You don’t know anything about me.” Jada stared out over the Pacific to calm her out-of-control hormones which were yelling, “Charge!” A group of youngsters trotted onto the beach. The tall redhead wearing a yellow bikini carried the volleyball.
    “Oh, on the contrary. I can tell you’re a loving mother. You work out. You eat right or at a minimum, well. You dress impeccably. Your lavender bodysuit matches your shoes, and your purple wrap has highlights that match your top. Most importantly, you’re well groomed. Manicure. Pedicure. Your anatomy is delightful, and you have long, silky hair that I’d love to—”
    “Yeah, but those are external qualities—”
    “But it’s a great place to start,” Lawrence said.
    The waitress interrupted, “Excuse me. Are you ready to order?” Lawrence gestured toward Jada.
    Jada looked up at the waitress and said, “I’ll have the crab Louie.”
    Lawrence said, “Make that two;” then he smiled at Jada.
    “So tell me about Lawrence.”
    “Okay. We can focus on me if you prefer.”
    Jada learned Lawrence was going through a divorce. He claimed his biggest mistake was marrying a woman who needed more time than he had to offer. He had thought if he bought his wife the home of her choice, lavished her with expensive gifts, and gave her full access to a six-figure joint bank account, that would adequately supplement the small amount of time he spent with her. According to Lawrence’s side of the story, in the beginning Ashley had been the perfect wife. Later she’d begun nitpicking about every little thing: “How late are you working tonight? Why won’t you be home for dinner? Where are you going? When will you be back? Who else is going?”
    Raising an eyebrow, Jada made a mental note. She nodded, interjecting an occasional, “I see,” or “um hum.” She listened intently, knowing it was best, especially when dealing with lawyers. The well-tanned redhead on the beach had just spiked the ball. It bounced off the blocker’s arms and landed in the ocean.
    Lawrence continued. He figured it was time for them to have a child. He felt that should have been perfect, too. But it still wasn’t enough for Ashley. He even named their daughter Ashlee in honor of his soon-to-be ex-wife. In the gospel according to Lawrence, that seemed to have made matters worse. When Ashley firmly stated she wanted out of their marriage, Lawrence said he thought she was kidding, saying, “What woman in her right mind would walk away from a good man?” With his hectic schedule, Lawrence admitted, no judge would grant him custody of Ashlee unless he called in a favor, and that wouldn’t be to either of their advantage because he’d finally admitted he was a workaholic. The shocker had come when Ashley told him they were moving to Texas after Ashlee graduated from kindergarten.
    Jada nodded and said, “Behind every challenge there’s an opportunity, if you want it.” Jada told Lawrence about her vision for her company. How she’d ended up branching out on her own because Melanie had become her boss.