Her Good Thing. Vanessa Miller

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Her Good Thing - Vanessa Miller Mills & Boon Kimani

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after being shot down by Marshall, Danetta made sure to never approach a man...every date she’d been on, the man had asked her out. And that was the problem, because no man had asked in quite some time. “That’s why I need you, girl. You know how to flirt. You know how to attract a man’s attention. I haven’t tried to do anything like that in so long that if I started winking and blinking, the guy would probably think I had a nervous tick or something.”

      Ryla laughed. “Girl, shut up. Okay, if this is what you really want to do, I’ll help you. Matter of fact, meet me at Adorable Hair and Nails at one o’clock this afternoon.”

      “What’s going on there?”

      “I have a hair appointment, but I’m going to reschedule with Marlene and ask her to do you up instead.” Ryla sounded excited.

      Danetta frowned. “I don’t know if I need to spend all that time in a hair salon. I was thinking that you could help me put a few outfits together. I have tons of clothes, but I don’t think I’m wearing them in a manner that will attract men.”

      “You can say that again, Ms. Baggy Pants. And just the fact that you don’t understand the value of pampering yourself at a hair salon lets me know that I need to be charging for my services ’cause this is going to take a while.”

      Chapter 3

      Marshall ran into another scorned woman during the retreat. He’d been having lunch with a couple of Fortune 500 CEOs, regaling them with tales of his college misdeeds, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned in his seat and immediately plastered a smile on his face as he stared at the mocha-chocolate beauty in front of him. “Well hello,” Marshall said, thinking that his weekend retreat just got a bit more interesting.

      “Hello, Marshall, it’s been quite a while,” the woman said.

      Her voice was so sexy that all conversation stopped at his table as the other men turned and stared. Marshall was flattered that out of all the powerful men in the room, this chocolate goddess chose him. But she spoke his name with familiarity, and he honestly didn’t remember her.

      At his silence, she continued to speak. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

      “I’d like to know.” He turned back to the men at the table and said, “Would you all excuse me for a minute?” He stood up, placed his hand on the woman’s back and walked toward the lobby with her. “So, would you like to tell me where we met?”

      She sat down on the couch in the lobby, ran her hands through her long coal-black hair and waited for Marshall to sit down next to her. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

      He wished that he could tell this woman that he not only remembered their meeting, but he’d kept the memory of her close to his heart. But he got nothing when he looked into her face. He met beautiful women all the time. He shook his head in defeat.

      “Five years ago I met you at a conference just like this one. You took me out to dinner, whispered in my ear and then we went to your hotel room and you made love to me. I wouldn’t normally consider a one-night affair to be lovemaking, but I honestly thought we had connected in a special way.”

      Marshall wanted to rub his hands together in sweet anticipation. He was about to get his freak on. He was about to ask if she wanted to go to his hotel room now and share a little afternoon delight with him, but she interrupted his thoughts.

      “At least I thought we had a special connection. But after waiting by the phone for the call you promised to make, a call that never came, I realized that you don’t have a heart. And you had only been playing with mine.”

      “Now wait a minute. You’re trying to make me out to be the bad guy, but if you just met me that weekend and went to bed with me, then you knew what time it was,” he argued.

      Her voice rose. “You promised to call me.”

      Marshall shrugged. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. Five years ago his motto had been “love ’em and leave ’em, no strings attached”. And he made sure every woman he got involved with understood that. If this woman hadn’t received the memo, he didn’t know what to tell her.

      Fire flared in her eyes as she stood up. “You’re so smug and confident. It probably doesn’t bother you at all that I dreamed about you that night.”

      He leaned back and stuck his chest out. “Thank you,” he said with a smile that said, oh yeah, I’m the man.

      She smacked him.

      That took the smile off his face, but he didn’t retaliate. He didn’t believe that a man should hit a woman under any circumstance, but Veronica and this woman right here were seriously trying his patience.

      “One day some woman is going to break your heart. She’s going to use you, and then discard you as if you’re nothing. After that, maybe you’ll finally be housebroken.” And with those lovely words she turned and strutted off.

      * * *

      The thing Danetta loved most about Houston was the subtropical weather. They were ten days into February and it was sixty-one degrees. As Danetta got out of the car at Adorable Hair and Nails, she left her jacket in the car and allowed the cool breeze to move her forward. Ryla, Marlene and a few other workers in the salon were standing outside holding balloons in their hands. As she approached, they each let go of the strings, and the balloons floated heavenward. “What’s up with the balloons?”

      “Girl, we are celebrating the end of that tired ponytail you wear almost every single day,” Ryla said.

      “Whatever,” Danetta said, as she walked into the salon. “I like my ponytail. It’s quick and easy.”

      “And unattractive,” Marlene countered.

      “Did I come here to be insulted or to get my hair done?” Danetta asked.

      “Girl, just sit yourself in Marlene’s chair so we can tell you how this is going to go,” Ryla said, as she grabbed Danetta’s arm and guided her to the shop chair.

      Danetta sat down. “Now what do you have up your sleeve?”

      Ryla grinned as she looked at Marlene and then back to Danetta. “Here’s the deal. I’m paying, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

      Danetta shook her head. “I can’t let you pay for my hairdo. I’ve got this.”

      “Oh no. I know how cheap you are—”

      Danetta held up a hand. “Frugal...not cheap.”

      “Okay, Ms. Frugal. I’m paying because you are getting a cut and color. You’re also getting your nails done, a pedicure and that bush you call eyebrows waxed. I’m going to drop Jaylen off at my mom’s, and then I’ll be back, so don’t try to chicken out of anything,” Ryla said, as she pulled the keys out of her purse and headed toward the door.

      “Ryla already picked the style and color that she thought would look best on you. So, the question is, do you trust your girl or not?” Marlene asked.

      Danetta looked at her reflection in the salon’s mirror. She was tired of her ponytail also, but just didn’t

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