Read Online The Billionaire and Me - Complete Series: BWWM Alpha Billionaire Romance by Shirley Hunt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shirley Hunt
Tags: United States, Romance, Erotic Fiction, Short Stories (Single Author), Interracial, African American
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perfectly.
I felt it was both perfect and very happy.
I know I was happy .
Part Three
Chapter One
For our honeymoon we could ’ ve gone anywhere in the world. Blake had even promised me that we could see any far off corner of the world that we could possibly dream of. It felt like no corner of the world was off limits.
Despite this promise I felt I did not want to go off to see some new part of the world. I suppose in some way that could have sounded ungrateful. It was not a lack of gratitude that motivated me but more of a wish that I wanted to see my own country. I wanted to see the famous land marks and places in America that I had never seen before. I suppose some part of me did sound a bit petty for wanting to stay in the country this time. There were so many land marks that I had never seen before.
Imagine seeing the General Sherman tree! A tree that was growing when Jesus walked the earth!
Another part of my reasoning behind it is I wanted to see some of the locations and artifacts I had studied so much about in school. I suppose as children we all dreamed about living back in a different time period and being able to see what tools people used not only to survive but to thrive.
I knew of various doll companies making historical dolls that focus on particular eras of time. I wish those had been popular or had been made when I was growing up! I know my sister and I would have begged our mother for them. As a girl I had liked changing my doll ’ s clothes and playing Laura Ingalls Wilder with my sister. I suppose almost all girls do.
For the time being we were staying inside the honeymoon suite of an old hotel that had been built around the 1920 ’ s. The hotel had quite the history about it and some of it was tragic. The hotel had been listed as “ absolutely fireproof ” yet history had a way of proving them wrong. When the hotel burnt down in the 1940 ’ s it was re-built with many of the same aesthetic features that the original hotel had.
Many years later the hotel was once again remodeled to bring it up to code. For the most part most of the furniture and lighting were reproductions as it would not be safe to have original pieces in the hotel. It wasn ’ t the fear of theft that motivated them but rather the fear of lead based paint and other things that could harm guests.
While the 1920 ’ s style wasn ’ t something that I would personally pick I did enjoy seeing some of the pieces as they were quite attractive. It made me think of those pictures I had seen of my great-grandmother in the styles of those days and wearing T-strap black shoes. Despite the ugliness of the racism and segregation of that time period she still allowed herself to stay beautiful and with a kind heart. If I had been in that position I don ’ t know if I would have felt the same. It made me both admire her and yet feel sad because she grew up in such an era.
I had perched myself on the corner of the bed and flipped through a few pamphlets I had picked up in the lobby. A boldly colored one was about the hotel ’ s history and the occasional alleged ghost tour. There was no mention of how many people, if any, had died in the fire. Many people had hoped that no one had died and the ghost tour was just something to drum up attention.
Other pamphlets had text and large and brightly colored photographs about popular tourist spots. Everything seemed bigger and bolder than the last and I didn ’ t know where to start looking.
Blake came into the room and chuckled when he saw me looking over everything. “ Did you get all those tourism brochures from the lobby? ”
“ You ’ d be doing the same thing if you didn ’ t know where all the tourist hot spots were, ” I told him with a grin.
“ Not all of the hot spots, ” he retorted and then laughed.
“ Oh, so there is some
I felt it was both perfect and very happy.
I know I was happy .
Part Three
Chapter One
For our honeymoon we could ’ ve gone anywhere in the world. Blake had even promised me that we could see any far off corner of the world that we could possibly dream of. It felt like no corner of the world was off limits.
Despite this promise I felt I did not want to go off to see some new part of the world. I suppose in some way that could have sounded ungrateful. It was not a lack of gratitude that motivated me but more of a wish that I wanted to see my own country. I wanted to see the famous land marks and places in America that I had never seen before. I suppose some part of me did sound a bit petty for wanting to stay in the country this time. There were so many land marks that I had never seen before.
Imagine seeing the General Sherman tree! A tree that was growing when Jesus walked the earth!
Another part of my reasoning behind it is I wanted to see some of the locations and artifacts I had studied so much about in school. I suppose as children we all dreamed about living back in a different time period and being able to see what tools people used not only to survive but to thrive.
I knew of various doll companies making historical dolls that focus on particular eras of time. I wish those had been popular or had been made when I was growing up! I know my sister and I would have begged our mother for them. As a girl I had liked changing my doll ’ s clothes and playing Laura Ingalls Wilder with my sister. I suppose almost all girls do.
For the time being we were staying inside the honeymoon suite of an old hotel that had been built around the 1920 ’ s. The hotel had quite the history about it and some of it was tragic. The hotel had been listed as “ absolutely fireproof ” yet history had a way of proving them wrong. When the hotel burnt down in the 1940 ’ s it was re-built with many of the same aesthetic features that the original hotel had.
Many years later the hotel was once again remodeled to bring it up to code. For the most part most of the furniture and lighting were reproductions as it would not be safe to have original pieces in the hotel. It wasn ’ t the fear of theft that motivated them but rather the fear of lead based paint and other things that could harm guests.
While the 1920 ’ s style wasn ’ t something that I would personally pick I did enjoy seeing some of the pieces as they were quite attractive. It made me think of those pictures I had seen of my great-grandmother in the styles of those days and wearing T-strap black shoes. Despite the ugliness of the racism and segregation of that time period she still allowed herself to stay beautiful and with a kind heart. If I had been in that position I don ’ t know if I would have felt the same. It made me both admire her and yet feel sad because she grew up in such an era.
I had perched myself on the corner of the bed and flipped through a few pamphlets I had picked up in the lobby. A boldly colored one was about the hotel ’ s history and the occasional alleged ghost tour. There was no mention of how many people, if any, had died in the fire. Many people had hoped that no one had died and the ghost tour was just something to drum up attention.
Other pamphlets had text and large and brightly colored photographs about popular tourist spots. Everything seemed bigger and bolder than the last and I didn ’ t know where to start looking.
Blake came into the room and chuckled when he saw me looking over everything. “ Did you get all those tourism brochures from the lobby? ”
“ You ’ d be doing the same thing if you didn ’ t know where all the tourist hot spots were, ” I told him with a grin.
“ Not all of the hot spots, ” he retorted and then laughed.
“ Oh, so there is some
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