Vivian, Midnight Call GirlIron Orchids
Danielle Norman
Copyright © 2020 by Danielle Norman
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission from either the author and or the above named publisher of this book with the exception for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.
The name Danielle Norman® is a registered Trademark
Iron Orchids™️ is a pending trademark.
Contents
Prologue
1. Vivian
2. Aaron
3. Vivian
4. Aaron
5. Vivian
6. Vivian
7. Aaron
8. Vivian
9. Aaron
10. Aaron
11. Aaron
12. Aaron
13. Aaron
14. Vivian
15. Aaron
16. Vivian
17. Aaron
18. Vivian
19. Vivian
20. Vivian
21. Vivian
22. Aaron
23. Vivian
Epilogue
Now Available
Binge Read Me
Box Set Madness
Sneak Peek—Sadie, Doctor Accident
A Word From Danielle
Find Me
Meet Danielle
Also By Danielle
Thank You
Vivian, Midnight Call Girl
Drunk dialing at it's finest...
All it took was a couple bottles of champagne...
And a fully charged cellphone,
For me to go from widow to call girl.
Talking to a stranger in the middle of the night was the push I needed.
To feel something again.
Something safe.
It’s not like I will ever run into him.
We don’t even know each other... yet.
Aaron Skye returns my call the next day,
Sending my well-ordered world for a spin.
Now I'm sober.
After years in the shadows,
I'm starting to feel alive. A sense of normalcy.
Unfortunately Aaron is not who I had imagined.
And his life is anything but normal.
Can I put the phone down and step into his world long enough to realize,
That what started out as careless whispers has smoldered into something more?
A wrong number, could be my Mr. Right.
This is dedicated to all the fucking authors who find it fun and easy to write sex scenes.
FYI, I dislike you big time, I mean huge, gigantic (and there is no jealousy there, lol).
Especially Elle Christensen who steps in to save my deplorable stick-it-in-wham-bam-thank-you-mam sex scenes.
I think Amish Romance is calling my name...hmmm?
“Wrinkles will only go where the smiles have been”
— Jimmy Buffet
Prologue
Vivian
Four years ago . . .
“Don’t get up, baby.” Eric leaned over to kiss me. “Today you have got to make a decision about where you want to go. Honey, we are less than six months away from our five-year wedding anniversary, and I don’t want to spend it here.”
“I know, I know. I promise,” I said as I leaned up to meet him halfway. Eric and I had been high school sweethearts, even though he was two years older. Even when he went off to college, he came home every weekend to see me. Our love was a forever type of love; sometimes I had to pinch myself to prove that this was my life and not some dream. “Can I make you something to eat before you go into work?”
“Sleep, I’ve got it.” Eric kissed me again. “I love you.” The smell of Irish Spring soap lingered even after he pulled away.
“Love you too. Be safe.”
Eric paused in the open doorway of our bedroom. “Always.”
I closed my eyes and nestled back into my warm covers to get a few more hours of shut-eye. Sliding one hand over to his pillow, I squeezed it and then tucked it under my chin. The cold cotton was soothing as I fell back to sleep.
I sat straight up to the sound of my doorbell and then glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Shit, it was after nine.
I jumped out of bed just as my doorbell rang again. “I’m coming.” I raced through the house as I finger-combed my hair. I pulled open the door and paused at the sight of two of Eric’s best friends and fellow deputies. They were standing there, not smiling. “Hey, Kayson, Carter . . .” They didn’t say anything, it all happened in slow motion. Kayson reached forward, my sleep-addled mind cleared, my knees buckled, and my world crashed down around me.
The black dress that had fit me two weeks ago now hung loose as I took my seat in the front row under the large tent, closest to my husband.
Motorcycles lined the path that wound through the cemetery. Two riders from every force in the state came for the funeral; it was protocol for when another motorcycle deputy fell. I slowly took it all in.
“It’s smudged.”
Leo, one of my dearest friends, leaned in and whispered, “What’s smudged?”
“His casket, look.” I pointed to the large, glaring spot. “He always liked things polished.” I turned to Kayson, who had stayed close all day just in case I needed anything. “Do you have a handkerchief?”
He pulled a crisp linen square from his breast pocket and handed it over. I got up and moved closer to Eric and began to rub in a circular motion just like I used to do with his shoes. “I know how you always liked things shiny, there, isn’t that better? Oh, let me straighten these flowers.” I sniffled and tried to clear the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry that I hadn’t decided on a location for our vacation. I’ll decide now, come back. I know where I want to go, I do, I promise. I want to go wherever you are. Please.” Gentle hands wrapped around me.
“Shhh, I know. Come on.” She pulled me back and inched me toward my chair.
I didn’t look around to see who all was watching me, watching the pitiful excuse for a woman. I glanced up at my rescuer’s eyes. “Stella?” She was another of my closest friends. She and Leo had been pillars of strength for me.
“Yep, I’m right here,” Stella answered. Kayson moved
