Angelia Vernon Menchan is wife, mother, nana, mentor and prolific author. Since January 2006, she has published 17 books and an additional 33 ebooks through her small publishing company, MAMM Productions. She is also the Co-founder of Honorable MENCHAN Media, through which she has published books for other authors. Her personal motto is, ‘There is abundance through God for all of us; we simply have to be open for our blessings.’ She resides in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband and cover designer, Maurice Menchan. Tomorrow one of her bestsellers, Widowed will be free all day!
Here’s a taste:
The attorney’s office was spacious and masculine. Arista had never known Paul’s attorney. When they married, they were both established in their own right and they simply created a marital account and added funds to it and prepared wills. She knew there was an insurance policy but had no idea what Paul left other than the house and things they jointly owned. Walking into the office, she was surprised to see Jackson was already there. She was further surprised that Paul’s attorney was a tall, muscular man who looked to be about forty in a bespoke suit with a neat beard, divine dark skin and the sexiest lips she had ever seen.
What the h#ll am I thinking? Arista wondered. Standing, the attorney made his way to Arista offering his hand in greeting.
“Welcome, Mrs. Melbourne-Sebastian, I wish we had met prior to now.” His eyes held hers. “I am Donald Prescott, I handled your husband’s affairs.”
“Thanks Mr. Prescott but I am Arista Melbourne, my name never changed.” She said, releasing her hand from his grip. Jackson stood and kissed the side of her face. She looked at him in surprise; he had never done anything like that. Donald watched them both with intelligent, probing eyes.
“Please have a seat, this will is very straightforward. I met with Paul as you are aware at least twice annually and he found a way to articulate what he wanted. The last time I spoke with him, he changed his will to include Mr. Sharper, who he indicated was one of his trusted caretakers.” Donald paused to glance at Arista and Jackson before continuing. All Arista noticed was how deep and melodious his voice was.
“Everything he owned, including the house, his car and his considerable assets and savings will be left to his wife, Ms. Melbourne. To Mr. Sharper, he bequeaths a sum of twenty-five thousand dollars and all of his golf clubs and memberships.” Jackson turned to Arista in surprise.
“I had no expectations, he was my friend.” Jackson said.
“You were invaluable to Paul and to me, Jackson. You were there so I could handle my business and simply as Paul’s friend. That is the least he could do.” Arista glanced up to find Donald staring at her.
“If there are no further questions, there are documents for signing and Mr. Sharper, my accountant can provide you with your check today. As I indicated this was straightforward. Ms. Melbourne, I would love to talk to you after this meeting.” Donald said, standing. Jackson looked uncertain but he stood as well and Donald led him to another area.
After several minutes, Donald returned to the room and sat on the edge of his desk, facing Arista. His nearness made her slightly uncomfortable.
“So, you are a contractor.” Donald stated more than asked.
“Yes. I own Melbourne Designs. Nowadays, I am more the owner than actual designer due to my husband’s illness but yes it is all mine. I started it when I was twenty five.”
“I wasn’t expecting you. You were never around when I visited Paul and he never introduced us. I thought you would be in your fifties or sixties. Paul was sixty-seven.”
“I am fifty, almost fifty one.”
“Let me see your identification.” Donald said.
“I am. I’m sure you are trying to be complimentary counselor but I am fifty.”
“Wow… Do you have any other questions?” He asked, changing the tone of the conversation.
“No, I will sign what you need me to sign and be on my way.”
“You don’t want to know how much money he left, other than the insurance policy?”
“I really don’t care about that right now. My husband died less than two weeks ago and you know what I crave more than anything? I crave sleep. For the past two weeks, I am in my pajamas by seven and I sleep an incredible thirteen to fourteen hours. I had not slept more than five hours per night in five years.”
“What do you plan to do when you finally wake up?” Donald asked.
“I will let you know when that happens.” Arista said. “Please provide me with the papers.