When love is the last thing on your mind, the last thing you expect is to find it in the least likely place with the unlikeliest person. Today's March Inspirations post is from Alexandria House and she's drumming up love and giving away a prize to an unsuspected reader today. Simply leave a comment. Read on...
About Let Me Love You...
Trying to put past hurts behind you is hard when your ex is a fool, but buoyed by child support and alimony, Jo Walker is moving forward with her life, pursuing a career, raising her little girl, and trying to live in peace. She believes she has all the bases covered in her world. But what about her heart?
Rap legend Everett “Big South” McClain is divorced, too, knows all about failed relationships, and has relegated his love life to casual connections rather than pursuing something real. That is, until he lays eyes on Jo.
She’s exactly what he never knew he needed.
He’s what’s been missing from her world.
Will she accept what he has to offer and let him love her?
Oba walked closely behind me as I stepped through the elegant lobby toward the elevators. My legs felt like rubber as the weight of what I was doing settled on my shoulders. I was delivering an insanely expensive piece of jewelry to someone, someone obviously rich and probably famous. What if someone had followed us from Bijou Park and tried to rob us? Sure, Oba was huge and armed, but what if a group of huge, armed dudes tried to rob us? What if they kidnapped me and held me for ransom and—the elevator dinged, making me jump, snatching me from my thoughts and prompting me to step inside. Moments later, the doors opened, and after we exited the elevator, Oba had to give me a little nudge so I would start moving toward the only door in the hallway. A cavernous bassline grew louder and louder as I approached the door, and when I knocked timidly, I doubted it could be heard over the music.
Oba reached over my five-foot-two frame, which seemed even smaller in stature with his imposing one towering over me, and beat his fist against the door, startling me even though I saw him do it. I glanced up at him nervously. He gave me a shrug and a smirk.
The music was lowered, and the door swung open. A man that damn near matched Oba in height and girth appeared with a scowl on his face. He and Oba were on opposite ends of the skin tone spectrum. Where Oba was dark as night, this man was extremely light-skinned with orangey-colored hair. He frowned down at me, then let his eyes climb up to Oba. That’s when a smile appeared on his face. As I stood there, he reached over my head and gave Oba dap. “‘Sup, my nigga?!”
Oba was just as animated as he said, “Sup, Dunn?! You know…same ole grind. Park didn’t tell me we were coming to see your guy. Wish I’da known. I ain’t know what I was getting into.”
“Who dat?” This querying voice came from inside the suite.
“Tell Boss Man Peter Park’s folks are here with that piece,” Dunn said.
“A’ight,” answered the voice.
“Y’all come in,” Dunn offered, and then he smiled at me. “O, man? Who we got here?”
I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Because I was running late this morning, I’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt, didn’t bother to apply a stitch of makeup so the freckles that I’d always hated were prominent on my face, and my wild natural hair was pushed away from my face with a thick, cloth headband. I didn’t look hideous, but I wasn’t displaying anything that made me worthy of his leer.
Before Oba could introduce me to Dunn and vice versa, the voice returned and I found it was attached to another behemoth of a man—all height and muscles like Oba and Dunn with a skin tone somewhere in between theirs. “Aye, the boss said y’all can go on back there,” he announced, nodding toward a door deeper in the suite.
“A’ight, Tommy,” Oba said, looking from the voice to me. “Lead the way, Jo.”
I swallowed and moved toward the door only to hear mumbling and snickering behind me, sure one or both of the two giants who evidently resided in that suite were looking at my ass. I rolled my eyes again.
Knocking on the door, I felt my heart begin to race. Who was this boss man of theirs? Was he rich and famous or just rich? Oba obviously knew who he was, because he was familiar with his security. I wished I had time to ask Oba who--
“Come in!” was yelled through the door.
I turned the knob and walked inside, stopping without giving Oba room to enter.
I recognized him instantly, but anyone would’ve since he was probably the most recognizable rapper on the planet. He wasn’t old, only in his late thirties, but had been in the rap game for so long he was definitely considered one of the old heads at this point. Award-winning, multi-platinum-selling, world-renowned, skilled like no other, and fine as all hell. That’s how I’d describe Big South. I was shocked, pleasantly stunned into silence and paralysis.
A southern girl at heart, Alexandria House has an affinity for a good banana pudding, Neo Soul music and tall black men in suits. When this fashionista is not shopping, she’s writing steamy stories about real black love.
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Inspirational women's fiction author, writing the script to my beautifully inspired life!
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