On Spark of Magic Read online

  ONE SPARK OF MAGIC

  by

  Iris Bolling

  Copyright © 2016 by Iris Bolling

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN- 978-0-9913426-8-6

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016921188

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are with the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

  SIRI AUSTIN ENTERTAINMENT LLC

  RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

  www.siriaustin.com

  www.irisbolling.net

  Books by Iris Bolling

  The Heart Series

  Once You’ve Touched The Heart

  The Heart of Him

  Look Into My Heart

  A Heart Divided

  A Lost Heart

  The Heart

  The Heart Always Wins

  Night of Seduction Series

  Night of Seduction/Heaven’s Gate

  The Pendleton Rule

  Gems and Gents Series

  Teach Me

  The Book of Joshua I – Trust

  The Book of Joshua II – Believe

  A Lassiter’s Christmas

  Ruby…Red Slippers & All

  The Book of Adam – Hypnotic

  The Book of Timothy – Symmetry

  Phire: I’m Just Saying

  Brooks Family Values Series

  Synergy

  Fatal Mistake

  Propensity For Love

  The Dunning Trilogy

  Invested

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Books By Iris Bolling

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was inconceivable to believe he was being played. Yet, that was exactly what Jarrett Bryson was thinking as he boarded a flight to Richmond, Virginia. His agent had stated it was imperative that they speak face to face. The call had him wondering what the front office of the Brooklyn Knights Baseball Team had up their sleeves.

  "Welcome aboard Mr. Bryson," the flight attendant greeted with a flirtatious smile.

  "Thank you," Jarrett replied as he took one of the four seats in first class.

  "Would you like a glass of champagne, Chardonnay, Remy on the rocks, or something else?" The attendant asked in a voice that offered more than what was on the menu.

  Jarrett looked up, recognizing the unspoken offer. The attendant stepped closer making certain the offer was understood. This was the norm for Jarrett. As one of the top shortstops in major league baseball, offers from the female persuasion were an every hour occurrence.

  At twenty-nine, he was considered a veteran of the sport with at least another ten good years ahead of him. His last contract, a cool 123 million, was small compared to the anticipated extension being negotiated. Additionally, his endorsement deals tripled his income giving him unprecedented media exposure. He had graced the cover of Sports Illustrated several times over with numerous covers for GQ and Men to Men. Not to mention the gossip magazines that made major funds from chronologically accounting who he was dating, proven or unproven. Women dreamed of him with his rugged good looks, athletically toned body, and somewhat reserved personality. Most women did all they could to carry out those dreams, whenever the opportunity arose. It seemed the attendant was taking her place in the batter’s box.

  "Nothing at this time," Jarrett replied displaying his megawatt smile. Some speculated the smile was insured with a million dollar policy. It was actually ten, however, only Jarrett and his agent knew for sure.

  "If you desire anything…anything at all, my name is Mona Lisa. You're the only passenger with us today in first class. We have the section to ourselves. It will be a pleasure to serve you. Don't hesitate to call."

  "Thank you."

  Mona Lisa turned and made her way towards the galley. He watched her exaggerated body movements as any male would.

  "I will not hesitate at all." He grinned as he ran his hands down his face. There was nothing like a woman with the confidence to go after what she wanted. However, Jarrett learned early in his career to be very selective when it came to women. Most were after fame and fortune, or worse, a baby daddy and marriage. Jarrett wasn't opposed to marriage. It was something he just wanted to do once. Like his parents, he wanted a marriage with love as its foundation. To date, no woman had peaked his interest. Until one did, women were a casual pastime for him and nothing more.

  After securing his overnight bag in the overhead compartment, Jarrett took a seat, relaxed his six-two frame by stretching his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. Pulling out his phone, he read the text he’d received from Nick Brooks, his agent. Nick in addition to the face to face, had requested his help with a new client, Jason Whitfield, a power forward who claimed the number one spot in the NBA Draft. Under normal circumstances, the agency would have sent the company jet for him, but it was being used to deliver Whitfield. Jarrett didn't mind flying commercial for the hour it would take to fly from New York to Virginia. It gave him the rare opportunity to meet fans face to face. Contrary to popular belief he wasn't the Prima Donna of sports that the media made him out to be.

  "Excuse the delay Mr. Bryson. It seems we have another passenger joining us in first class," Mona Lisa stated in a professional but tense voice. "Once she boards, we will be on our way."

  "It's not a problem."

  "It's just inconsiderate to the other passengers. Usually it's someone that thinks they own the world and wants everyone to walk to the beat of his, or in this case, her drum. Imagine holding up a plane of people just for one person."

  "It's probably something last minute that couldn't be helped," Jarrett offered, not necessarily interested in the commentary.

  The statement generated a smile from his admirer. "That's very gracious of you. And you may be right." Mona Lisa walked back towards the galley then turned back and stated, "I'll have a layover in Richmond if you need some company."

  Jarrett smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Mona Lisa walked away and Jarrett went back to his messages. The next message from Nick concerned him. It seems his team owners did not wish to negotiate a new contract until the end of the season. It was September. Jarrett had delivered home runs and batted in averages that had delivered them to the number one spot in their division. All but guaranteeing them a spot in the playoffs. His numbers had slumped a little after the All-Star Game. He couldn't put his finger on why. Putting in extra time working out or in the batting cage had occupied his mind instead of trying to figure out what was behind his slump. Even with the slump, he was still leading the field in pertinent areas.
/>
  While reading the message, a slight tremble began in his stomach. It was the feeling of nervous energy Jarrett usually experienced when at the plate, with an opportunity to advance his team to the playoffs. Since neither was the case, he ignored it, and continued reading. A moment later he thought he detected the sensual scent of fresh jasmine. It reminded him of a spring day in a field of flowers, almost forcing him to look up, but he didn't.

  "Good morning. Please accept my apology for the delay."

  Jarrett had ignored the punch in the gut caused by the sensual smell, but his senses could not ignore the musical sound of the voice. He looked up just as Mona Lisa walked by to greet the owner of the voice. The way Mona Lisa's body tensed from the back, clearly indicated the person causing the delay was not welcome.

  "You're here now. Let's get you seated and prepare for takeoff."

  "Yes, of course," the woman replied as she hurriedly took the window seat across the aisle from Jarrett.

  With Mona Lisa standing between them, Jarrett could not see the woman, but her thick luxurious black hair swirled just above her shoulders as she settled in and buckled her seat belt.

  "May I take your coat?" Mona Lisa offered.

  "No, I'll keep that. I've delayed you long enough."

  "Would you like any refreshments?" Mona Lisa asked curtly.

  "No, thank you. Please don't go through any bother on my part."

  "No bother. My name is Mona Lisa if you need anything."

  "What a beautiful name."

  "Thank you."

  The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion, as Mona Lisa turned to him, smiled, then walked back towards the galley. As she stepped away the new passenger came into view. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful. Exotic, expressive eyes, a small pert nose, smooth, dark sable skin and the sweetest looking lips he had ever seen. The woman never looked across the aisle where he sat for she was busy putting a headband on her short wavy cut, pulling her hair away from her face. He almost wished she had left it down until she looked up, taking in her surroundings, and her gaze fell on him. He saw, more than heard, her sharp intake of breath when she saw him. The flush of embarrassment was instantaneous.

  "Hello." she said. "I apologize for not speaking when I first arrived, but as you can see I was a little late. And, well, I think the flight attendant is a little upset with me." She ended with a sigh. "I do understand her reasons. I so hate when people are late."

  Mesmerized by her looks and the way her voice touched him, it took Jarrett a moment to realize she had stopped talking.

  "Hello to you. I'm sure it was unintentional."

  "Oh it was," she replied so sincerely Jarrett had to smile. "My Grand'Mere called early this morning and said she had a dream and I needed to come home right away." She rushed to offer, "And when my Grand'Mere says move you don't ask questions, you just move."

  Jarrett broke out in a huge grin at her statement. "I have a grandmother like that."

  "Then you know what I mean." She nodded with laughter. Warmth, unlike anything Jarrett had experienced before, came over him. "She said, your plane leaves in two hours, and I was half asleep," she said expressively. "Then to step outside in the rather cool September air, well I don't have to tell you, but that certainly awakened my senses."

  "Ms. Cartwright," Mona Lisa called out as she walked over and spoke quietly in her ear. "People in first class enjoy their privacy and do not like being disturbed."

  "Oh." She leaned forward to look around Mona Lisa to speak to Jarrett. "I do apologize." She then looked up at Mona Lisa to explain further, "I may not be clear on the proper etiquette of flying. I will not disturb…" She hesitated then looked at Jarrett. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

  Jarrett almost laughed. The thought of a woman not recognizing him was unusual. But from the questioning look on her face, he believed she didn't.

  "His name is Jarrett Bryson," Mona Lisa said before he could respond. "And he should not be disturbed by your chatter."

  The woman looked back over at him, then gasped. "Are you sure?" She frowned.

  Jarrett’s eyebrow rose at her response. Mona Lisa testily replied, "Yes, of course I'm sure."

  The woman turned back to him. "I'm sorry Mr. Bryson. I will not disturb you again." She looked up at Mona Lisa. "I'm sorry."

  Mona Lisa turned to Jarrett. "If you wish I can have her seat changed."

  Jarrett immediately shook his head. "She is not disturbing me." You are, he wanted to say, but didn't. The jealousy stemming from the possibility of a little competition was evident in the attendant's actions.

  Mona Lisa turned back to the woman. "This is your only warning," she said, then walked away.

  Looking completely dejected, the woman turned and looked out the window. Missing the carefree atmosphere she’d brought on board, Jarrett searched his mind for something to say to the woman. Why he felt he needed to make her feel better he didn't know, but he had to. Struggling to come up with something was odd. He was never speechless with women. Words always flowed freely. However, with this woman, he wasn't trying to hit on her, he just wanted to see her light up the silent cabin with her aura. Then it hit him.

  "You wouldn't happen to be related to Ben, Hoss and Little Joe would you?"

  She turned to him with the biggest smile and the gleam back in her dark brown eyes. For a moment she did not say anything, she just smiled at him, and he was content to sit there and bask in the vision. Then they both broke out in complete laughter as the plane began to take off.

  Brushing away the one strand of hair that had fallen out of place, she sobered. "My father says I've never met a stranger because I talk to just about everyone I meet as if I know them. That's why I stay in trouble all the time." She shyly looked towards Mona Lisa. "I don't think she likes me very much. Although I can't imagine why, I never met her before."

  Jarrett knew exactly why. Other women would fade in a room with this woman. "Would your father's name happen to be Ben?"

  Beaming again, the woman tilted her head to the side. "No, his name is Horace Cartwright. Make that Judge Cartwright."

  Jarrett thought for a minute, he recognized the name. "Justice Cartwright?"

  "Yes, do you know my father?"

  Jarrett nodded. "I met him at a game once."

  "You remember that?" Her eyes beamed. "I have heard the story about that game a number of times. He's going to be thrilled to know you remember it as well." She looked away. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before, I'm not a Knights’ fan. I like Atlanta."

  Jarrett clutched his chest as if he had been injured.

  "Stabbed right in the heart." He smiled. Removing his seatbelt, he stood and extended his hand. "Jarrett Bryson… officially."

  She placed her hand in his. "Paige Cartwright… officially."

  Jarrett looked down at the small hand inside his and marveled at the sense of calm that infused his body. He reluctantly released her hand and retook his seat.

  "It's nice to officially meet you Ms. Cartwright."

  "The pleasure is mine."

  Jarrett rested his elbow on the seat handle, placing his chin in his hand and turned to her. "So, Ms. Cartwright what do you do?"

  "I'm a dancer."

  "In New York?"

  "Yes, but my company does tours all over the world. It's so fascinating meeting people from all cultures and walks of life. Don't you think so? I mean you travel all the time. Don't you enjoy meeting people and hearing their stories?"

  Nodding his head, Jarrett had to agree, he did like that aspect of his job.

  "I think it's wonderful to get to travel, meet people, see the world and get paid, all for doing something you love to do. Don't you?"

  For a while Jarrett just sat there thinking about her statement. She was right. He was fortunate to go out every day and do what he loved to do, play baseball. Not many people could make that claim.

  "I'm sorry. Sometimes I talk too
much."

  Jarrett shook his head. "No, it's not that." He sat up. "Your question made me think of a situation I'm dealing with."

  "The contract negotiations?"

  "Yes." He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles, again. "You're right. We are fortunate."

  "Sometimes, contracts and legal issues muddy up the waters. The truth of the matter is you love to play baseball. Don't worry about the legal stuff or next year. Take the moment that God has given you now and enjoy it. We never know when or if it will be taken away. That's the advice my Grand'Mere gave me."

  Jarrett smiled. "Your Grand'Mere sounds like a very wise woman."

  If the look on her face was any indication, that comment made her day.

  "She is…she really is."

  Paige looked at the man that every woman in New York and beyond, wanted to get next to and who every man wanted to be. He seemed normal, not god like as she thought he would be, based on all the hype in the news surrounding his new contract negotiations. He was a handsome devil, as her Grand'Mere would say. Yes indeed, quite pleasing to the eyes and from their brief talk, she could tell there was a lot more to him than the newscasters reported.

  There was something intriguing about Jarrett Bryson. Yet, there was something else. He seemed to be at a crossroads in his life and was in need of guidance. He really needed a sit down with her Grand'Mere, she thought. When he took her hand earlier, for a moment…just a moment, she felt connected to him, and sensed he was searching…for something. Whatever it was, he needed her to help him find it. She wondered if that was the reason Grand'Mere insisted she come home immediately. Was she supposed to meet this man on this day, to help him in some way? Before she could get her answers, he removed his hand and his shields went up.

  "You know," she saw him look over at her as she spoke, "my Grand'Mere taught me something else."

  "What was that?" he asked genuinely interested.

  "To love is to listen," she said bouncing her head up and down. "Yes, it's true. The key to showing people how much you love them is listening. I know it may not seem so, but I'm better at listening than I am at talking."