Phoenix Burning
Authors: Kaitlin Maitland
Tags: #erotic romance, #Contemporary Erotic Romance
Table of Contents
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Mr. Wonderful Lies
Phoenix Rising
Verifiable Intelligence
Phoenix Burning
Kaitlin Maitland
Copyright Warning
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published By
Etopia Press
1643 Warwick Ave., #124
Warwick, RI 02889
Phoenix Burning
Copyright © 2013 by Kaitlin Maitland
ISBN: 978-1-939194-59-6
Edited by Melinda Fulton
Cover by Annie Melton
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Etopia Press electronic publication: January 2013
~ Dedication ~
For all of the girls and boys who refused to carry the burden of other people’s expectations into adulthood. I salute your courage in embracing who you are and never letting anyone tell you who they thought you should be. Hopefully the rest of us will catch up someday.
Chapter One
Emory Banks could not come up with one good reason why Donovan MacIntyre would be pushing open the door of her shop. It had been a particularly nice day so far. The weather was clear, the sun was shining, it was Friday, and she was actually making good time on the flower arrangements she was putting together for a fast-approaching weekend wedding.
“Hello, Mr. MacIntyre,” Emory said with forced cheer, injecting a subtle bit of emphasis on the “mister.” She’d already been out with him—twice. She could say without a doubt that the two of them weren’t compatible. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite see it that way.
“It’s good to see you again, Emory.” Donovan’s mouth eased into a grin that showed far too many unnaturally white teeth. “Please call me Donovan. ‘Mr. MacIntyre’ is so impersonal, and the two of us are far beyond that.”
She reached over and selected a fragrant stargazer lily, carefully sliding it into the vase on the counter before her. “What brings you in on a Friday night? I have a few arrangements in the cooler that would be a perfect way to greet a date.” Emory owned Blooming Buds, a small floral shop located on a corner lot of the quaint, cobbled downtown area. If she was lucky, that was what had brought Donovan in to see her.
A muscle jumped in his jaw as if he were fighting back irritation. She suppressed a laugh, pasting an innocent smile on her face and opening her big brown eyes just a little wider for maximum effect. MacIntyre had continued to hit on her months after she’d told him they were better off as acquaintances. So far she’d been unable to get her point across without being rude. Being rude was definitely a last resort. The guy had too much pull in the downtown business arena.
“Actually, I’m here on business.”
The smile faded from her face. This could actually be worse than his hitting on her. “Is that right?”
“You know I was elected to the board of aldermen six months ago.”
Of course she knew. That appointment inexplicably coincided with his decision to smother her with cheap pickup lines and empty compliments. “I think I’d heard that somewhere.”
He leaned against the counter, his expensive cologne overpowering the pleasant scent of the flowers in the vase and turning her stomach. Why men thought they needed to drown their polo shirts and designer khakis in cologne was beyond her. The sight of his gelled dark brown hair, perfectly trimmed beard, and leering expression was bad enough. Adding the unattractive physique and stench of cologne made her want to run the other way.
“As a member of our local chamber of commerce, I was hoping you’d do me a favor.”
If this was a new pickup line, she was going to drop the civilized facade and deck him.
“I’d like your signature on a petition.”
“A petition?”
“A few of the downtown business owners are trying to get enough signatures to shut down the Phoenix Rising.”
She racked her brain, trying to remember if she even knew where or what the Phoenix
Rising was. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“It’s a bar,” he supplied.
“Oh! My brother Chris has mentioned that place. I knew the name sounded familiar.” MacIntyre had succeeded in piquing her curiosity. “Why do you want to shut it down?”
“There are a lot of rumors about that place that don’t do the downtown area any favors.”
“Like what?”
He shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t look as though he’d expected her to ask for any information. He’d just wanted a signature. “For one thing, the owner is an ex-con.”
She carefully considered her response, reaching for some greenery. “If he’s done his time, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
“There are other rumors.”
Why was he hedging? Emory had been merely curious before, but his evasive behavior was intriguing. There was obviously more to the story than he was telling her. A bar was a bar, right?
“Some of my other contacts have heard that there’s a lot of lewd conduct that goes on in there. From what we understand, it’s basically an anything-goes atmosphere.”
She was tired of the verbal fencing. “Are you talking about swinging?”
“More than that. I mean public displays of sex.”
Heat curled in her belly. She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to control her heartbeat. Her breath was quickly becoming ragged with the effort of maintaining her calm mask. The rumors that had MacIntyre up in arms had the opposite effect on Emory. She was fascinated.
“So this is a couples’ bar?”
“Not from what I understand.”
Her fingers latched onto the edge of the countertop, the wood biting deeply into her palm. Warmth began creeping over her, culminating at a point between her legs. Awareness zipped up her spine, and she was glad her loose outer shirt hid the hardening of her nipples.
She grasped for a tone that would convey polite curiosity without revealing the depth of her interest. “People hook up and have sex right there in the bar?”
MacIntyre’s ice-blue gaze narrowed. Emory cleared her throat, aware that her voice had taken on a breathless quality that could be interpreted a multitude of ways. Not that he could guess how big of a fascination public sex was for Emory Banks. She had her own reasons for desiring a trip to a place like Phoenix Rising, things in her past that she had no wish to share with Donovan MacIntyre.
“Those are rumors.”
“So it’s probably an outrageous lie anyway.” She turned away on the pretext of choosing a beautiful white magnolia blossom for the arrangement on the counter. “How silly.”
“Regardless of whether or not a disgusting rumor is true or false, that’s not the sort of image our downtown needs, or the type of clientele we want to encourage. It starts with this, and the next thing you know we have blacks, Asians, and homos moving in.”
“Hence the petition?” The asshole had pretty well covered his discrimination bases. Didn’t he know her brother was gay?
He put a yellow envelope on the counter and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. She could see a smattering of signatures on the page, but not nearly enough to close down a business. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t right.
“I just need you to sign here at the bottom.” He searched his pockets for a pen.
“Don’t bother.” Emory swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I’m not going to sign something without checking the facts first.”
“Emory?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. MacIntyre…”
“Call me Donovan, Em—”
She held up her hand to stop him from repeating his entreaty. “I know how tough it is to operate a business down here. I’m not going to pass judgment on Phoenix
Rising without better reasons than some unsubstantiated rumor.”
He stiffened, shoving the petition back into its envelope with unnecessary force. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be back later. I’m sure with some time to think it over you’ll change your mind.”
She watched him leave, but her mind was already far away. He had thought her to be a done deal, no more than a formality. And it would’ve been so easy to sign on the line, to keep her head down like a good little business owner and make Captain Downtown happy.
Donovan MacIntyre was a prick of the first degree. He owned a chain of sports bars scattered across three counties. His bars had a list of prerequisites for waitresses that read like a want ad for Playboy models. Servers wore damp white T-shirts with neon-colored bras and jean shorts cut off at an angle so their ass cheeks hung out. The predominantly male clientele made crass comments about female anatomy and consumed gallons of beer and pounds of hot wings while watching hours upon hours of sporting events. The worst part was that every one of those beer-guzzling men would profess to be an upstanding citizen that toed the line of righteousness. And they’d even believe it.
Thanks to the popularity of his bars, MacIntyre had the cash flow that usually got him what he wanted. His downtown location was the flagship of his entire operation. Going against him in this petition was the quickest way to make trouble for Blooming Buds. But something inside her balked at the idea of following the crowd on this issue.
“Something got your knickers in a twist, little sister?”
Emory made a face at her barely older brother as he entered the shop via her storage area. Chris always parked in the lot out back. If asked, he’d say it was to save the limited street parking for customers, but that wasn’t really why.
“Hiding from the wife?” she taunted.
Chris had clear blue eyes; straight, short, reddish-blond hair; and a fair complexion. Emory’s olive-toned skin, brown eyes, and curly black hair didn’t even look like they’d come from the same gene pool. It was hard enough for people to believe they were brother and sister. Trying to convince someone that they were fraternal twins was next to impossible.