Common Sense Doesn't Become Me Read online

  Common Sense Doesn't Become Me

  Chick Lit. Adult Romance

  Published at Smashwords.com and Copyright 2013 CJ Hawk

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and strictly fictional. All persons, places or incidences are creative endeavors of the author and by no means are any viewpoints in this book a perspective of the author's lifestyle or opinions. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people without the author's permission. Lendable copies are the exception. Cover and inserts may be used for editorial reviews.

  Included at the end of this story are sample chapters of three other ebooks available that are similar to this story. All of the authors books sample chapters are available to read online at her website. If you like this book, you will enjoy the other samples included as well. This author writes first person general audience romance, quirky mystery to mature adult romance.

  Chick Lit Romance of two characters in quirky chaotic moments of foolish choices in the pursuit of finding love.

  Often in life, you are given choices. One that is clear, concise, and common sense, the other one, well let's call him TROUBLE for short. You are given these choices to make your life easier as the happy caring gods are smiling down on you thinking, you go girl, here you are, your two choices; we know you will make the right one. Then the blue-sky turns an ominous steel gray full of thunderclouds and lightning begins to strike; gale-force winds begin to blow as you make the wrong choice. It's not like you saw all the warning signs. Blue sky to dark. Lightning. Gail force winds. But hey, if you always made the right choices, life would be one very boring highway. Doing what becomes oneself, doesn't always make common sense, but it sure makes life fun.

  What does Amber Jones do when a man who seems perfect comes along just when she is making one mistake after another? Perfection is the farthest thing from Amber Jones horizon. Sure, she has a great job, hair that is manageable and a closet that she could brag about at a fraction of its cost, what more could a woman want? A lot! What she does not have, at the almost ripe age of thirty, is a plan to set the next thirty years in motion without all the continuing chaos or drama that she likes to entertain her family and best friend Marion with, but that's about to change.

  With all intensive purpose of growing up and making something out of her life, Amber has diligently supplied herself with one of her famous 'plan of action' lists. She wants to take college courses to please her mom, without quitting her great job with benefits. She would like her boyfriend to take things just a bit more serious, and perhaps do some mature activities like volunteer work, versus spending her entire Sunday watching movie marathons after spending the entire Saturday night embarrassing herself at a karaoke bar.

  All it took was one night, one very crazy chaotic drunken night on her part, to turn everything around. Depending on if, she is heading in the right direction when it all settles is up to Amber and her grown-up decisions, or does she find a way to muck it up again?

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sample Chapters of Something To Talk About

  Sample Chapters Of Now Why'd You Have To Go And Do A Thing Like That

  Sample Chapters Of Time To Put Your Boots On Girl

  Chapter One

  "It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too if it happened to you." Ok, it's not my official birthday yet, but the one time I plan my own birthday party; one very bad thing made everything else go horribly wrong. As I lay here singing that song out loud repeatedly with just the one verse mesmerized in my head, I felt the whole thing rehash in my mind like a hamster on a running wheel as I tried to determine where I went wrong. What made me think that I was capable of even making good choices? How the heck did I end up here? Drunk, naked in my bed, drooling into my pillow?

  I had cried alone to myself for hours thinking about everything that just happened. Wondering why I make such foolish decisions that lead me down a path of either shame or sorrow. How did I, Amber Jones, five foot six, one forty wet, green eyes and brown hair with recent highlights, get to be who I am at this very moment, one extremely depressed sad birthday girl?

  Just twelve hours ago, I was getting ready to head out and meet my family, my best friend Marion and her husband Carl, along with my kind-of new boyfriend Steve, at an up-and-coming Italian restaurant down on Seventeenth.

  My mom had made the reservations for twelve people, but the place usually only sat four or six tops, so they made us pay an extra hundred for the backroom held for large parties. I only turn thirty once and told her to go ahead, and I would pay for it. Besides, maybe Steve would be impressed with the restaurant party room, and my new dress that I had just bought - dark blue, clingy, cocktail of a number with matching heels. Not to mention, the two hours working on my hair into an updo and perfectly styled makeup. I felt like I looked hot and desirable, which may have something to do with Steve and our recent steamy sex life.

  I was looking forward to a great night of birthday wishes, fun chitchat, and then ending it with a very, very romantic night with Steve. Since, up until now, it was quickies during lunch at the motel down the street from my work every Wednesday, and early Sunday mornings at my place. He claimed his job as a security manager at the airport had him working off hours, and he had a sick sister he helped take care of.

  He had guaranteed me that tonight, was our night. Even though, it had to be at my place because his apartment was being fumigated for bugs since an old lady neighbor died and was not found for too many, too ripe, days later. Just that mention, and I had no desire to sleep over at his place any ways. I had a feeling if I ever did, every time I walked by his neighbor's apartment, I would be completely slammed with sorrow and depression over how his neighbor died.

  Looking back, my night started with a euphoric high of self-confidence and positive outlook. Somehow though, the night went horrible wrong. Where should I start? I arrived looking glamorous and feeling like a model, fifteen minutes early. I was greeted by my father Hal, who had already been on drink number four and was slamming it back, all because of my mother. She was riding his ass about something new that she found a thrill in riding his ass about. This is why my father drank, not to my approval, but I could somehow see why he did.

  I grabbed my own shot of whiskey from the bar, slammed it back, and then I proceeded to walk confidently to the party room where my party was to be held. I was promptly overwhelmed with the birthday balloons and dangling ribbons all around. It looked like a toddler birthday party decorations exploded everywhere. Big bold numbers three and zero were all over the place. Matching colored sparkly tabletop decorations were placed along the twenty-foot table that they were sitting us at, not to mention the confetti that was made of glittery metal punches were strewn all across the table. Any other birthday that was not meant to impress my new boyfriend, and I might have thought, ok this is cute, but this is my big three oh and I want some semblance of adulthood to be represented here tonight. If I could have looked forward five hours, I could see how that was not going to be humanly possible on my part.

  "Oh there you are." My mother screamed out. "Hurry up. The rest of the family is going to be here soon. You need to go change?" That was my mother's tone. It felt as if she was always criticizing or degrading my clothing attire. What I had on was perfect for this party, right up
until the moment, she opened her judgmental mouth.

  "I am dressed mother." I replied in a soft even tone, but my mental voice was screaming back. 'I look incredible Harriet so just shut it would you.' Harriet would be the name my mother was called whenever I was mad. More often than not, I said her name internally, but when I did speak up and voiced her name out loud, she knew I was mad. Today, I was not going to let her get to me and say her name aloud.

  "Oh. All right. I guess if that is what you have chosen to wear. I thought maybe you had some THING before this, and that you might want to change into a more family appropriate attire before the rest of the family gets here." Her voice was sappy sweet and rather suggestive yet disapproving of my attire.

  I did not have a chance to snap a rebuttal back as my younger sister Bethany, the perfect one, came into the room like a floating angel, in an off-white classic tailored professional dress, her dyed blonde hair in a perfect up-twist and her green eyes sparkling with a hint of peppy pills; I knew my sister well. "Mom. I got some more tape. Sis. Hey, you look nice. Got a hot date later?"

  "Actually, he's coming tonight." I said it as if I was floating on air while thinking about it.

  "I see. Mom, here's the tape but really I think we have done enough. Don't you sis?" Bethany was on one of her typical missions, pleasing my mom, and nothing could distract her. I guess I should be thankful that she steps in those shoes that I know I could never possibly wear for my mother.

  "Too much if you ask me." My tone snapped out a bit too snarky, but I wanted the night to be elegant and sophisticated not toddler time with dressing insults. Would it kill my mother, just for once, to say, 'my dear you look lovely - who did your hair? It is stunning.' I might be doing a mental reach here; however, it was what I wanted to hear versus what I always got. Therefore, my tone reached everyone's ears before I had a chance to reign in the anger. I should know I had turned on deaf ears.

  My mother completely ignored me and turned to my sister, looped her arm in my sisters, turned her to look at the mass of decorations and leaned her body into hers. "Well if you think so, I'll stop, but I just thought it might help liven the mood since your sister only turns thirty once, and I haven't been able to throw her a graduation party for college like we did for you sweetheart. Not to mention the fact that you just got that huge promotion and was made manager."

  I got it. I did. I got every slick tongue dig my mother tossed out there. I grew up with this, and I wanted to shout out that my sister was addicted to speed and sleeping pills, not to mention she jumped Redbull's revenues up a percentage all by herself. However, I have never once, called out my sister's flaws to deviate from mine. I don't think my mother would have accepted them any ways. Superhuman Sis could keep my mother's attention; I was never on the happy reciprocating end of it any ways... no matter how hard I tried.

  I turned on my heels and headed back to the bar, only to find my best friend Marion and her husband Carl ordering a drink for themselves and my dad. Marion and my dad had always gotten along. They were my joint force in dealing with the rest of my crazy family. Carl? Well, he loved Marion, but he also tolerated all of this only twice a year, my birthday and the family summer barbeque that Marion always insisted he attend with her. The rest of the time, Carl would claim he had to be out of town or Marion would say he was golfing with a client.

  Marion stood at the bar looking ever the perfectly beautiful best friend she is. Her perfectly done long brown hair hung in glorious curls down her back. Her simple elegant black dress with lace shawl made her look glamorous at any age. She turned to me with her brown eyes sparkling and her makeup perfect. Even though she left me at the plant six years ago to marry Carl and become the perfect quintessential housewife slash trophy wife; I loved her every day for the person she still is on the inside.

  I watched Carl's arm slip protectively behind Marion as he turned to see who she was smiling at. Some days I thought it was true love, but the other day Marion let me know that, as long as she had her looks and wits about her, she was golden for about another ten years, after that she worried it would be then that Carl would start looking for another younger trophy wife. She often joked that Botox and tummy tucks were a trophy wife's best friend. She even joked that half her monthly allowance went into a bank account so that when he did leave her, she would not be broke due to the prenuptial his mother made her sign. However, I saw the way he adored her and the constant possessiveness in his nature to make sure that she was always well taken care of; I had a hard time believing he would ever want to trade her in for somebody else.

  Marion and I hugged and then Carl gave me a kiss on the cheek, telling me how incredible I looked. He was the first to say it and mean it. My dad raised his glass and slurred out a few words that I would take as a compliment. "Abso-loot-we bea-fee-tool!" I think we all knew he meant to say that I looked absolutely beautiful. Coming from my dad, drunk or sober, I took the compliment with a soft heart for his bad habit.

  I motioned to the bartender with a point of my finger to my dad and a slash of my hand across my throat. "Hey dad. How about we get some coffee in you? The night's young and I'll let you order a nightcap or two once dinner comes."

  "Party snooper." He slurred. I knew he meant to say party pooper, but my heart went out to the man. I did not like it that he was an alcoholic, along with being a retired cop with nothing to do but deal with my mom all day. However, you could not blame the man since he was married to my mom, besides something made me think he had started drinking long before he got to the restaurant today.

  My cousins arrived with my grandma Tess, who was incredibly hard of hearing along with my aunt Claire, who is my mom's much older sister. She was not too spry herself these days. Everyone was here but Steve. I had contemplated inviting more friends, but my mother just embarrassed me way too often that I let the mention of this party slide, knowing that on Wednesday, we would have an office cake and after work drinks to enjoy. Working at a manufacturing plant was not glamorous, but I loved the celebratory camaraderie that came with the job, party for any reason was a great reason for cake during the day and drinks in the evening.

  I was a little worried that the only person left to show was Steve, and he mentioned he might be late by a few minutes.

  I walked up to my grandma to give her a hug and a kiss. "Grandma, you look lovely. Is that a new dress Grandma Tess?"

  "Piss test? Why would I take a piss test? You young ones are truly odd these days, what with all your technology, and code words, and funky fresh dance moves." She gave me an odd look and then readjusted her wig that was off kilter by an inch.

  Carl raised his eyebrows and excused himself to the men's room. Marion giggled as the now half-full restaurant turned to the volume of my grandma's voice shouting about being able to buy a book about sex and dominance at the grocery store the other day. My three younger female cousins headed past my grandma and aunt, and then bolted into the party room. I gingerly tried to steer my grandma and half-blind aunt to the back party room while my grandma continued on talking at the top of her lungs about the weather, her bad hip, the walk from where they parked and why I was wearing my lingerie instead of decent clothes to my birthday party. At this point, if felt like we walked five miles to get to the party room, instead of the fifty feet it took. However, if I ever had any doubt about my babbling issue, I could blame Grandma Tess on that genetics issue, she was worse than me.

  Ok, she had me on the dress attire. Maybe I should have saved the slinky number for later and wore just a simple elegant dress like Marion and my sister did. Sometimes, my common sense just goes out the window when I get excited. I was excited for my family to meet Steve. There was potential. I was excited to turn thirty. I had plans for the next ten years; one of them was to settle down with marriage. I wasn't exactly sure if it was Steve, although his sexual skills held promise; what I did know was I was starting to want to settle, somehow.

  I got everyone guided to the party room and in around the
table while drink orders were placed. My cousins all ordered alcohol, Marion and Carl still had theirs from the bar; my dad gave me a pleading look to order another, and I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes while looking down. When the waitress got to me, I order a martini and then caught the look of disapproval from my mom. Subsequently, my sister ordered bottled water, and my mother beamed. My mother ordered an ice tea. I'm pretty sure when they die, my mother and sister will reconnect in heaven while my dad and I, will be tearing it up in a bar in hell.

  Fifteen minutes had passed, and I was starting to wonder if something happened with Steve. Just then, he walked in with a panic look on his face, but other than that, he looked ever the sexy man I recently fell in love with. Not to mention he did things with his hands and tongue that no man had done before and that was probably why I was so enamored with him. I quickly stood and was about to announce his arrival when he motioned for me to come outside with him.

  "This is Steve everyone. We'll be right back." I proudly announced to my family in the party room, like a kid who shows off a report card with all A's. Only problem is, it was all A's in the ridiculous department.

  I was the family offspring whom everyone thought needed a little more common sense. Well, except for my Aunt Heather, my dad's much younger sister. We were two peas in a pod, only she was fifteen years older than me. She, just like myself, was often to be considered as less wise in my family's eyes. She could not be here tonight on account of the fact that she is in the Bahamas.

  As Steve practically dragged me out of the party room by my hand, I caught the look of concern on Marion's face and the look of disapproval on my mothers. I heard my grandmother shout out something about kids these days and my cousin's last comment that caught my ears, as Steve and I fled the room. The comment made my heart stop. "Why's he wearing a wedding ring if he's dating Cousin Amber?"

  And that, was the beginning of a hellish night for me. Steve's wife, who I had not known existed, had followed him and caught us just outside the party room doorway. Everybody in the restaurant and at my dinner table heard that I, Amber Jones, had been sleeping with a married man. Why had I not noticed the tell-tell signs of a married man? I could not call, only text his cell. The odd working hours. The sick sister, my ass. The motel rendezvous and the slight indentation in his skin, on his ring finger, that I dismissed. All that from the very first kiss should have been my light-bulb moment. He was married. I was embarrassed. His wife was pissed and unwilling to let me explain. If it wasn't for Carl, I think the restaurant would have kicked us all out.