Charles Michelson was thirty-three years old, good looking, worth two billion bucks, and spent most of his time overseas. He lived every man’s dream. However, the dream was getting old, especially for the last year.            Charles was experiencing an emptiness — almost a hollow feeling in his stomach and in his heart. He wasn’t sure what was wrong until he decided to visit his family for Christmas. What was missing in Charles’s life was love. Now, that he knew what he needed, he was on the hunt — the hunt for true love.                   ****************************************************             It was November in New York. Charles Michelson had

            Jessica Washington Davis surveyed the three-bedroom loft. It was perfect. There was a room for her to set up a studio, and she could afford it. Her divorce settlement was generous, but there was no need to waste it. She was an independent artist and photographer. She loved what she did for a living, but her survival depended on if someone decided to buy her photos and paintings.            At first, she didn’t think coming back to New York was a good idea. After all, her upbringing in New York wasn’t all flowers and roses. Then she had thought about her aging parents. Jessica should be close just in case something happened.            She was about to unpack another box filled with kitchenware when there was a knock on the door. She knew who it was. They had called and said they we

Jessica and her parents had Thanksgiving dinner at her loft. Since her mother had to cook for the Michelsons, they had a late holiday meal.Her mother had brought over a sweet potato pie and collard greens. During dinner, Jessica told her parents that she had been invited to an art gala in Manhattan on New Year’s Eve. The coordinator wanted her to bring some of her work to put on display. It was last minute, but Jessica didn’t mind. She always had a few pieces finished and ready for sale. Hopefully, she would sell something at the gala. They nodded their congratulations and continued to eat dinner.Fifteen minutes later, they were having dessert – in silence. Jessica could tell something was off. “Are you two all right?”“Yeah,” her father answered. “Why?”“You two are acting . . . strangely. You two are usually chattier than this.”“We’re just tired, baby,” her mot

Jessica watched Debbie as she examined her new bedroom. Debbie looked at the gold comforter and white, crisp sheets. She looked around at the bare, white walls. She looked at the desk with the brand-new Apple computer on it.“We can paint it any color you like,” Jessica said.“No, the color is fine,” she said. “It’s just that there is nothing of me here.”“There will be when the rest of your things arrive from DC They should be here in a few days. We’ll put up your awards, certificates, and pictures. Your piano will be here, too. I was thinking we could put it next to the window in the living room. I saved that space for your piano when I first moved in here. I knew you would want to bring it with you.”“The living room is fine,” Debbie mumbled as she sat on the edge of the bed.“Debbie, maybe we should talk about . . . the current situation.”“I’

            Jessica and her mother entered the kitchen through the back door. No one was in there. Jessica’s eyes widened. “Where’s Debbie?”            “Maybe Andrea took her back downstairs to the storeroom to give her some chocolate. That girl can’t resist giving children chocolate.”            Jessica nodded.            They went downstairs to the storeroom. No sign of Andrea or Debbie.            “Oh my god,” Jessica said with panic.            “Don’t get excited. Andrea is very responsible. She probably took Debbie upstairs to the nursery when we did