Chapter One

Taylor D'Angelo grimaced as she handed over her debit card. It was the reloadable kind, and she filled it up from her savings account at the beginning of every month with the exact amount of her budgeted expenses. Then she crossed her fingers, lit a candle, and begged the god of all things financial to let her go one more month without a crisis.

This month, the gods were apparently pissed, because as soon as the cashier swiped that card, Taylor would be officially one-hundred and fifty dollars over her monthly budget.

All because of some jerk who threw a brick through the window of her battered but reliable Toyota Corolla.

Six years ago, she'd talked herself into buying the shiny gray car in the back of the used car lot. Not a dealership. No, she'd gone to the kind of place that either took cash or used a guy named Guido for financing. It had taken her a solid afternoon to finally make up her mind, but she hadn't regretted the decision. The car was plain, with no bells or whistles, but it was hers. And it represented freedom.

That was one of the few times she'd used the money she got from her dad. As far as she was concerned, it was blood money. For years, she'd tried to pretend the money wasn't there. But then college rolled around, and she'd had to make a hard decision--postpone school so that she could work and save tuition money, or enroll and use those tainted dollars for something good.

She'd enrolled. And she'd used the money for her first semester's tuition and for the deposit on her apartment.

By sophomore year, she'd racked up decent grades, and managed to score some scholarships. Between that money and her small work-study salary, she was holding her own. Her father's money could rot in the bank, for all she cared.

For that matter, now that she was close to getting her masters, she could easily donate all that was left to charity.

Except she didn't. She wouldn't. Because someday she might need it again. Not for an education, but for survival.

Someday, she might have to run.

Please, God, no. Let it be over. Let me be safe.

Across the counter, the register spit out a receipt, accompanied by an electronic chirp that pulled Taylor from her thoughts. The cashier slid the receipt toward her, and for just a minute, Taylor hesitated. It would be so easy to use her stash to cover the deductible. To get ahead of the rent and the groceries. Would that really be so bad?

Yeah. Yeah, it really would.

Taylor sighed, the pen loose in her hand.

"Something wrong?" The girl behind the counter had perfect skin, perfectly manicured nails, perfectly styled blonde hair, and probably a perfect life to go with it, not to mention parents who were not only paying her way through college, but actually loved her.

Bitter much?

Taylor shook her head. "No. No problem. It's just been a crappy week. The expensive kind."

"I hear you. I was supposed to go to San Antonio with some friends, but I'm a little short on rent, so I grabbed an extra shift." She waved her hand to indicate the interior of the auto-glass repair shop. A man in a suit sat reading a trade journal. A guy in biker boots and beady eyes cleaned under his nails with the tip of a pocket knife. "But that's okay. The fun never stops here."

Taylor laughed, feeling like a total bitch for her earlier catty thoughts. She wasn't usually so judgy. After all, she knew better than anyone that what you saw on the outside rarely matched a person's inside.

She signed the slip, then slid it back to the cashier, who traded it for her keys.

Her car was behind the shop, and as soon as she was in it, she closed her eyes and told herself she'd done the right thing and everything was good. That was true, and she knew it. She was just so tired of being broke. Because honestly, doing the right thing paid for shit.

Still, she was getting by. She had a great job with Texas Performing Arts as part of a work-study program, and that took the edge off. It didn't pay much, but the experience was invaluable. She'd been doing the job since her sophomore year, and now she was close to graduating with her master's degree. So she

tended to get the plum assignments based on seniority alone.

Plus, she was getting paid to stage manage the Man of the Month contest at The Fix on Sixth, and that was fun, quick work for decent money. The calendar contest had been conceived to bring more traffic to The Fix a few months ago when the bar was having some serious financial trouble. It had gone over even better than anticipated, and now the bar was drawing impressive crowds every night, not only on the bi-weekly Wednesdays when the contest was held.

She checked her watch, saw that it was three hours to showtime, and cursed. She liked to have a full three hours for prep, and now tonight was going to be tight.

Frustrated, she turned the key. The car rattled to life, and she pulled out into the five o'clock traffic that was clogging Burnet Road, then navigated south toward The Fix.

With traffic, it took her almost forty-five minutes to get downtown, find a parking space that didn't cost more than her rent, then sprint to The Fix. She burst breathless through the doors, only to find that someone had already wheeled the spotlight out of the storage closet and set it up exactly how she liked it.

She detoured right toward the bar instead of left toward the stage, then squeezed in beside Jenna, one of the co-owners of The Fix and the woman in charge of the contest. "Did you do that?"

Jenna tucked a strand of long, red hair behind her ear as she shook her head.

Before Taylor could ask who did, Cameron Reed slid down the bar with a Diet Coke for her. "When Mina realized you were running late, she thought she'd help out."

"I appreciate it," Taylor said. Mina was Cameron's girlfriend, and she'd recently graduated from the University with her master's in film. "Of course, I'd appreciate it more if you'd put a little rum in this." She shook the ice in her glass. "It's been a crazy day."

"What's going on?" Jenna asked.

"Nothing that shining a spotlight on twelve guys as they strip off their shirts and walk across the stage won't fix."

Jenna laughed, and Taylor tossed a grin toward Cam, with his broad shoulders and ocean blue eyes. "We have quite a few calendar alumni working here. Maybe we should make them all go shirtless."

Tags: J. Kenner Man of the Month Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net