Mint to Be Loved Read online

  © 2020 Elias Raven, All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Elias Raven

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected]

  First paperback edition June 2020

  Book cover design by Sophie Lynn (SLP Productions)

  Editing and Formatting by Julie Lafrance

  Dedication

  To my many friends and fans online and off…

  If you wish to glimpse inside a human soul and

  get to know a man, don't bother analyzing his

  ways of being silent, of talking, of weeping, of

  seeing how much he is moved by noble ideas;

  you will get better results if you just watch him

  laugh. If he laughs well, he's a good man.

  ~Fyodor Dostoevsky~

  Table of Contents

  AcknowledgeMINT

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Music Score

  Glossary of Movie Terms

  Contact Links

  AcknowledgeMINT

  First and foremost a huge thank you to friend and fellow Author Leah Negron for introducing me to Tiffany Carby, the wonderful author and leader of The Candy Shop Series. Something so small, that little nudge was enough to build worlds and for that I am forever grateful.

  I would like to thank my publicist extraordinaire and BFF Sophie Lynn for helping to keep this Raven from running off the rails. The work you did on the cover was amazing and all the material you have created to bring the world of Paige Murphy & all of her friends to life has just been fantastic. It truly is a joy to work with you! Thank you!

  To the wonderful ladies at SLP (yes Gail Marie & Gabrielle Messina that includes you!) for their support of not just me, but so many authors in the indie community. Your friendship and guidance has been an unending source of inspiration and laughter. I look forward to many more years on our shared journey together.

  To my Administrative Director & Assistant Directors Kimberly Cortez & Julie Beckford PA and my Street Team Captain April Baxter along with all of the wonderful ladies on my street team (Lisa Pichner, Patti Cortez, Michelle Keyser, Sherry Morris, Cassy Kubehl, Jen O’ Donnell, Rebecca Buck, Vivetia Adams & Kristen Tanner). I’d like to thank you ladies, for your hard work and sharing of all my literary endeavors across social media and for just being the amazing women that you all are. Your heart for not just me, but the many authors that you support in the indie world is truly a blessing. Thank you <3

  To my editor Julie Lafrance, thank you for picking up the reins and guiding the ship. Your reputation precedes you. I look forward to reading your published work and collaborating on many more projects. BTW you have a wicked sense of humor...LOL!

  To my dear friend Joany Kane, thank you for all of your hilarious comments, GIFS and guidance as I created what was supposed to be just a short story, well… It kinda passed novella about a block back and started skirting a light novel! LOL! Everyone should have a bacon queen in their life. Thank you for that and for being such an amazing woman. I’m blessed to have you in my circle.

  Thank you to my dear friend Roux Cantrell. Babe, we’ve known each other for more than a few years and you have been a firecracker from the word go! Thank you for the late night pep talks and picking me up when I was bailing water trying to find my way out of the bushes! Thank you for sharing all of your anthology experiences with me and helping me (along with Leah) with my introduction to Tiffany & The Shop Series! You are one badass amazing friend.

  To my good friend Teresa Crumpton, thank you for your impromptu weekly calls to check in and see how I’m doing. Sometimes we get so caught up in the real world that we forget as authors we also create them. Ever since I read Calla’s Kitchen (wait did I write a hot scene or two in that one?) The thought of doing an anthology series book has been stuck in my head. I know life always takes us full circle and your book was what finally planted the seed that got me into the Candy Shop series and blam, my first Rom Com. It’s been a long strange trip and I'm looking forward to seeing you at a signing as we travel the US next year!

  Before I forget thank you to my friend Angie Alexander, I know it’s been a long-haul Def Leppard gal. I’m glad you still have one foot in the indie community and blessed that you are still one of my readers. I know your hands have been very full, but know you are in my prayers and I am grateful to have met you and to be able to call you friend.

  Last but not least, to my chosen family… Thank you for believing in me and for allowing me the grace to pursue my life’s dreams.

  ~Elias Raven~

  Chapter 1

  It had been one of those days. Actually, it had been one of those springs, but let’s not mince any words. Spring was unwilling to relinquish her chokehold on the rest of the calendar and summer was beckoning for us all to get on with life. Except, spring hadn’t gotten the fucking message yet! So, we all collectively suffered between the warm and cold with bouts of rain and frost then heat and sweat mixed in for our added pleasure. My bestie Kathy said that spring was probably on her period and living through it with everyone, I totally agreed!

  The last day of classes at NYU had been bittersweet, carrying an air of finality and change that had left me morose and already missing my friends and teachers alike. I was looking forward to the graduation walk down the aisle, but saying goodbye was not my thing. I hated to say goodbye! I preferred to frame it in my mind as I’ll see you again soon or we’ll get together for lunch instead. Why did we have to say goodbye? We were going to run into each other again right? After all, I had made a few friends in college and met some cute guys in class, but seriously do I have to get on with life? I mean this was my moment, my au revoir, my middle finger to academia! I was going places! I was the proud recipient of a Master’s Degree in Library and Information Sciences! I hadn’t gotten any acceptance letters to work at The Smithsonian or The New York Public Library, but the offer letters would come, well at least I hope they did.

  I had spent countless hours with my parents composing cover letters and sending references and looking at each job application as another insurmountable barrier to conquer.

  My mother, ever the statistician quoted off odds and pulled up successful applications that others had shared to gain access to these hallowed institutions. As she showed me the comparisons between them all, I had looked at her aghast, feeling like somehow, I was gaming the system.

  “Mom, I mean we are applying for a graduate job for me? Do we really have to use like cliff notes for job seekers to land me this gig?” I asked her at the dining room table feeling rather miffed.

  “I mean can’t I stand on my own me
rit and land the big fish!” as my father was oft to say.

  “Um no dear!” my mother replied curtly.

  “Some of these places can be rather stogy and getting your foot in is half the battle!” she continued pushing her 1950’s looking black frame glasses up the bridge of her nose.

  “Us Librarians have to stick together. Your mom is a master of research and no daughter of mine is going to wind up driving the reading rainbow truck around town because we didn’t pull out all the stops!” she exclaimed firmly.

  “Well, what if I want to drive that truck?” I replied being a smart ass.

  My mother stopped typing mid-word and looked at me sternly.

  “Hunny, you know your father and I prefer not to cuss in this house, but so help me you had better be kidding right now or so help me I will....” she was raising her voice which set alarms off all over my head.

  Crap if I didn’t get her to calm down, dad would be coming down and I would look like the ungrateful only child not doing what they envisioned for me.

  Sarah and Kathy had both found me standing by my car in the parking lot waiting on them. Kathy blew a massive bubble with her stay pop bubble gum and popped it loudly right in front of my face! I startled awake.

  “Earth to Paige, Earth to Paige!” Sarah exclaimed, snapping her fingers.

  “Sorry, I must have been daydreaming…” I stammered back, which made both of my friends giggle.

  “Well, was he mowing the carpet?” Sarah asked.

  “Mowing the what!?” I exclaimed and then both girls busted up laughing.

  “Get in the car you two!” I yelled. Both girls hopped in and then locked the doors and stuck their tongues out at me.

  “Seriously?” I asked and pulled the fob, unlocked the door, and hopped into the driver’s side.

  I had driven home rather melancholy listening to my besties Kathy and Sarah chatter incessantly about what we were all going to do for the summer. The little silver Kia sedan weaving in and out of traffic like it had a mind of its own. My parents, ever the practical ones, had given me the Kia as my graduation present from High School and it had served us girls well for the last four years. I watched out of the rearview mirror as Sarah went on and on about Todd the hottie from Algebra 3 and how she was going to do him before summer was out.

  “Did you get his number?” I asked coyly to my friend.

  “Uh-huh!” she replied and then whipped open her blouse and showed us the top of her right shoulder where a number was scrawled.

  We all broke out laughing at that point.

  “Oh my God, Sarah, you are such a hooker!” Kathy yelled.

  “Me!??” she replied to us all.

  “Ask Kathy whose number she got!” she replied laughing.

  I looked over at Kathy and gave her my best out with it look.

  “Sarah, you said you wouldn’t say anything!” she replied looking very crossly at Sarah.

  “Wait! You didn’t get that jocks number from the basketball team did you?” I asked teasing her.

  “Too tall Tommy Johns!” Shot back Sarah looking at Kathy.

  “Actually, I did get Tommy’s number…” She said coyly.

  “Uh-huh and where did you save that?” I asked her playfully.

  Then Kathy whipped open her top and showed us her left shoulder and the name and number scrawled there.

  I just let my mouth hang open for a second, then exclaimed!

  “You both are hookers! What am I going to do with you?” I asked shaking my head laughing.

  “Did you get any numbers, Paige?” Kathy asked.

  Just at that moment, I pulled up to the girl’s dorm on the south end of campus.

  “Yellow cab, here is your stop ladies!” I yelled out to my raucous posse.

  Both girls spilled out of the car doors fixing their tops and leaving Kathy’s question unanswered.

  “You both behave and I’ll see you at my house later for the grad party!” I exclaimed.

  I gunned the little Kia out of the parking lot and wove my way back toward my parents’ house.

  I talked a good game with the girls, but I hadn’t had much luck with the boys in the class. Such had been the story of my four wonderful years of college. Both Kathy and Sarah had fixed me up on blind dates, but it was like getting sloppy seconds. I wanted something a little more substantial, a relationship of sorts that tugged at the heartstrings even. My friends on the other hand… Well, they were always looking for William Hung and I don’t mean the man from China. Maybe, I was just a hopeless romantic, but I knew that there was a Mr. Right out there for me. I just hadn’t found him yet.

  Chapter 2

  The drive home to Bay Ridge had been just wonderful. Nice bumper to bumper traffic up the 278 with the wonderful rolled down window explicatives that only New Yorkers can yell out when crossing the bridge into Brooklyn. Add some head-spinning antics from the local scooter boys racing between cars and one stopping next to mine to give me the ole Italian once over. Yep just lovely, I had an FML moment right then and there! Then the lover boy followed up the ole once over by tipping down his shades and making sure his faux leather jacket collar stood up prominently from his neck looking all the world like one of the characters from Saturday Night Fever “which I had seen like a million times” was even better. I mean seriously! I think he was a painter even! He had enough Pomade in his hair to withstand a hurricane! Be still my beating heart…Not! If he had said his name was Carmine or Tony, I wouldn’t have even batted an eye if he had said he was a butcher! I mean seriously! Then he has the nerve to knock on my car window and say to me:

  “How about it baby? You looking good!” He shouted, and then he gave me some chin action.

  I swear I could hear “Staying Alive” playing over my radio as I rolled my eyes then hit the down arrow on my car window and gave him a very traditional Italian reply:

  “Fuhgeddaboudit,” Followed by my middle finger! It was priceless. I swear I couldn’t make this stuff up. These are my neighbors.

  Johnny, the old cabbie that worked the restaurants on 3rd street was on the other side of him and started laughing hysterically hearing my shouted reply.

  “Tony! She got your number!” he shouted out.

  We both watched as scooter boy Tony looking a little deflated, revved the motor on his scooter between our vehicles. I rolled up my car window as an opening in traffic appeared and he sped away back to the pizza shop that he had crawled out from! All I could do was shake my head.

  Of course, his name was Tony!

  I turned down the street and the weirdness just kept right ongoing. Not just weird, but Alice in Wonderland Cheshire Cat weird. I kept looking for a white rabbit to hop out of a rose bush.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if Tweedledee and Tweedledum didn’t walk out from behind a tree next both dressed as greasers accosting females on The Brooklyn Bridge.

  Mr. Simms the mailman walked past me with just a normal perfunctory greeting and smile, which was completely out of character for the old man whose nickname, was Chatterbox.

  “Hello, Paige. It’s a sunny day in the neighborhood,” he exclaimed matter of factly and tipped his mailman’s cap toward me and smiled and kept right on walking.

  “Hello, Mr. Simms!” I yelled back toward him as he fast-walked through the gate on his appointed rounds.

  "How very strange, he always stops to chat with me?” I thought.

  Then my head spun around faster than an exorcist movie as I heard an eruption of noise coming from the front porch. I startled and looked up to my mother Louis acting quite uncharacteristic. Ok, let me rephrase that... How about bat shit crazy!? Yeah, that about fits! The usually formal and stoic librarian was leaping up and down like a madwoman doing somersaults in the reflecting pool of The Lincoln Memorial.

  “Oh My God, Oh My God!” I heard her yelling and she ripped the screen door open leading into the mudroom of our house with bobby pins flying out of her hair and her dark-framed 1950’s retro glasses ca
ntered at a crazy angle as she started yelling for my father Harold.

  “Harold!” She yelled waving a stack of envelopes into the air as the screen door slammed close behind her with an air of finality.

  I could picture my dad sitting in his easy chair with his smoking pipe in hand, reading the paper and looking all the world like Father Knows Best as my mother came running up in her excited state waving letters that Mr. Simms had obviously given her to get her upset! Yes, that was it! This was Mr. Simms’s fault! Ok seriously! Everyone knows the mailman in on it, right? I started laughing at the crazy train that was my brain. Get a grip, Paige!

  Button’s, our family tabby cat had managed to leap through the gap between the opening and closing of the screen door and sat on his fat little butt waiting rather impatiently for me to get to the porch to pet him. Half the neighborhood cats had been adopted at some point by yours truly much to my parents’ dismay. My father complained he was going to have to become a fisherman to keep up with the demand. Buttons was the last of the strays and had held on when all the others had left to pursue better dinners elsewhere.

  I just stood there with the dumbest look on my face looking back toward the white gate the mailman had vanished through then back to my house and the screen door that my mother had just rushed through, then my cat.

  “Well?” I asked him, settling my gaze on the cat.

  The cat just meowed in my direction and kept cleaning himself.

  “A lot of help you are today,” I said in his general direction.

  My cat could have given two fucks at that moment. Now if I had a can of tuna… well, then it would be a different story!

  “What on earth was going on?” I wondered.

  In all my years, I've never seen my Gen X mother act this way. Just then, my cell phone started buzzing. I reached into my back pocket as a string of text messages were flying across the screen from my besties Kathy and Sarah.

  “Paige! Did you get any mail??” was the first text.