Wild Beauty (Soul Sister #2) - Audrey Carlan Page 0,1

We’re talking Macy’s, Nordstrom, Dillard’s and more. Right now, everything I sell is boutique and upscale, but I want to rake in the real cash. You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed as I nodded. “I do, Blessing. I understand and I’m ready. I swear I am. It’s just scary this first time out.”

Blessing wrapped a long arm around my shoulders and stared at the two of us in the mirror. Blessing was an inch shorter than me, but in heels, she towered over my five-foot, eleven-inch form. Her corkscrew ebony curls were bouncing all around her head in a perfectly stylized ’fro. Her black skin shone like silky smooth river rocks and felt just as soft. She smelled of her customary coconut oil mixed liberally with a light, breezy perfume that reminded me of Spring on the stony shores of Cannes, France. A place we’d visited many times together on different photoshoots.

“I’ll be right there. Every second, every minute. You’ll never be alone, okay?” Her reflection spoke and her onyx-colored eyes seared straight into mine with a seriousness that couldn’t be denied. My girl was in “Big Sister Mode” and had been since Simone and I had survived a madman. Blessing on a good day was protective of the family she chose in all of us and Mama Kerri. After our lives were threatened and we lost Tabby, that protection gene of hers became extreme. Knock down, drag out, she’d cut a bitch if they so much as looked at one of us cross. Unfortunately, this did not help the situation with the paparazzi.

Once word got around that Senator Sonia Wright’s biological sister Simone was involved in the Backseat Strangler case, and that two of her foster sisters were also involved, the press went insane. I had been kidnapped, but Tabitha ended up dying. When my identity was released—Addison Michaels-Kerrighan, international plus-sized model—and the world found out I was famous in my own corner of the market, things got intense. The paparazzi followed all of us incessantly. They camped outside Kerrighan House waiting for one of us to exit and go about our daily routines. By now, Blessing and I were the only ones still staying with Mama Kerri. The rest of our sisters had gone back to their homes and schedules, only coming back here to meet up for family dinner each week as usual.

I clenched my teeth and grabbed my giant sunglasses from the table underneath the mirror where I’d left my purse and plopped them on my nose. Blessing grabbed hers, a fashionable circular pair with gold trim that went perfectly with her stunning blue jumper and gold belt cinched around her tiny waist. Her booty, however, was high, rounded, and so hard you could bounce a quarter off it. Blessing worked out almost as much as Sonia did, but mostly to offset her insatiable appetite. Probably one of the things that we bonded over when I arrived and was put in the same room as her all those years ago.

“Lunch after?” I put my purse over my shoulder and my other hand on the doorknob.

Her lips pursed together in a small grin. “For sho,’ Boo. Now let’s give the vultures a good shot, eh? Good to show ’em we’re all just fine. Maybe they’ll move their smarmy asses back to whatever hole they crawled out of and leave us all alone.”

“One could only hope.” I chuckled and opened the door.

Instantly we were hit with what felt like a thousand camera flashes and a roaring blast of questions.

“Ms. Michaels, how does it feel to survive the Backseat Stranger?”

“What does the Senator have to say about all of this?”

“Is there anything you can tell us about Wayne Gilbert Black?”

Blessing gripped my elbow tight and led me to the black Escalade and driver she’d hired to shuttle us to and from the job.

“What did he do to you?”

“Are you going back to work after such a trying experience?”

“Were you tortured?”

I was tugged from behind by an unknown hand and I cried out in sheer terror. Stars blinked in my peripheral vision as a cold sweat hit my temples and at my nape.

Blessing spun around and shoved the reporter back so hard he tripped on his cameraman and fell backward into a fellow paparazzi member who caught him. “Don’t you lay a finger on my sister!” She hollered at the top of her lungs. “All of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Following me and