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Welcome to the “Money Honey” writers’ event. These are stories of how money, or a lack thereof, changes people’s lives. We hope you enjoy the stories. They are spread across the categories, but there’s a page where they’re all listed. Give them a try, wherever you find them. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

I must thank my team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. My readers and editors are SBrooks103X, Cagivagurl, Hooked1957, Stev2244 and Hale1. I thank you all.

A word on comments. I allow anyone to comment. I reserve the right to delete your comment if it’s bullshit. Randi

It was hot as fuck, but I was enjoying that heat. There was a shimmering off across the valley, the sun making it look like a wide, still lake. I had the top and doors off on my new red Rubicon, and I was just about to start the steep climb over the mountain.

The road was bad, more like a goat track, but I was in the right vehicle. “Unimproved” was an understatement by Siri. This was fucking primitive. Just what I wanted. I consoled myself with the thought of my destination: Canyon Lake was about 10 rough miles over the mountain. I hadn’t seen a sign of humans since I turned off the highway. Just like I wanted it.

As I bounced my way around the bend, I saw two trucks pulled into a wash ahead, and three bikes. I wondered what the hell they were doing out there. The doors on the trucks were open and I noticed one of the bikes was toppled. That’s when I noticed the bodies. I assumed they were bodies. I couldn’t imagine what live people would be doing lying out there like that.

I stopped about 200 yards away and looked carefully around. Nothing stirred, so I dug around in my backpack for my phone. Using the zoom feature on the camera, I took a closer look. They were definitely bodies. All of them had gaping wounds, and one guy had half his head blown off. Nothing moved, so I got out and scrounged around in my big pack in the back until I found my weapons. I buckled on my twin H this was my new home.

I had to talk to some people from other university campuses in the system, but the end was that they offered me an adjunct position. That was good, for the time being, and I applied for a visa. By the time I got that, my container had arrived, I put half my money in the bank, bought me a cute little beach bungalow and went native.

The only dark spot in my life was I had no social life, no friends. I decided to change that, so I went looking. I found one. She was a beautiful little brown Polynesian girl who worked in the university communications department, named Alola. She was… lush, big tiddies, curvy hips, and I would have described her as “dummy thicc” had we been back in the US. She had long flowing curly black hair, big brown eyes and she was just gorgeous. She was also as sweet as honey, and I knew when I met her, I was going to love her.

I was writing a piece for my classes rus escort on the university website when she came into the department office I was using. She introduced herself in this soft breathy voice with the cutest little accent.

“Hello, Ms. Blake. I’m Alola and I’m in communications. I was wondering if you thought you would be through today with your little biography?”

I stood up, towering over her like a giant, and gave her a hug. “Hey, Honey, I’m Kai, not ‘Ms. Blake,’ and I’m very glad to meet you. I’m almost through. Would you like a cup of coffee? You can sit here and talk to me while I write like 10 words.”

It turned out she didn’t drink coffee, but she did drink Coke. We got her one and it took me like two minutes to finish. We talked for another hour, and I invited her out for dinner Friday night. She accepted, gave me a hug, this time, before she left, and I was excited about having a new friend.

I met a lot of people that first week, most of whom I liked, but none as well as Alola. I talked to her every day and liked her better every time. I had found a restaurant I really liked, and I asked her if she would eat dinner with me there on Friday.

“Oh, yes, I’d love to,” she said. “When do you want to meet?”

I gave her a time and we were set. I was already seated when she got there, and she looked adorable as the hostess led her to the booth. She had on a red sundress with white flowers, and it made her complexion pop. That dark hair and those big brown warm eyes were sparkling.

We had a great time, ate our dinner, which was delicious, and moved to the bar. We both had a nice buzz going, and I invited her back to my place. It was in walking distance, we strolled along, laughing together, and she held my hand.

We had too much to drink at my house and sparked up a blunt. She was very giggly and fun, and before we noticed it was 2 AM. I invited her to spend the night.

“Noo, I don’t have any clean clothes, and no toothbrush or anything,” she protested. “I should go home.”

“No pressure, honey,” I told her, “but I have new toothbrushes, big t-shirts for a nightgown, I’ll feed you breakfast in the morning and maybe we could go to the beach in the afternoon. Please?”

She wasn’t hard to persuade, and she went home to get swimwear just after we had a light lunch on Saturday. She was back in an hour, wearing a floral coverup and I was ready.

The beach was deserted, and we put down our blanket. She took off her coverup and she was smoking hot! She had on a red crocheted bikini, and it left little to the imagination. The weave was a little tighter over her nipples and crotch, but all that luscious brown skin was on display.

“Damn, girl, you are hot as fuck!” I told her.

She giggled a little and a pinkish blush suffused those dusky cheeks. “Thanks, Kai. I wish I was thinner, like you.”

“Well, you look great,” I told her. “I’d die for tiddies like that.”

She cupped them in her hands and jiggled them at me, and we both laughed. We lounged around all afternoon, I made roll-ups for dinner and by the time she left, I knew I’d found someone special.

There aren’t a lot of special people in the world. Most people are assholes, but she was one of the special ones. We hung out constantly, and I made sure I saw her at school when I went there.

I was feeling something. It was a little scary, a little exciting and a little mysterious to me. I realized that Alola was my friend. I mean, a real friend, someone I loved very much, and that scared me a little. I felt like I’d lost everyone I cared about like that, and the thought of losing her, too, was frightening.

I met her parents, and although they were a little sus of the tall blonde white girl from Arizona at first, they warmed up to me quickly. The thaw started when they learned I was teaching at the university, that I owned a house and was in the process of becoming a citizen.

Alola had a brother, Thomas, and he was there with his wife, Sarah, and their two girls the second time I visited. They were gorgeous little brown babies, and although they were shy with me, at first, when the youngest climbed up on my lap to feel my hair, I became part of the family. It felt good.

I never had a family. There was an aunt I had never met, but I grew up in the foster care system. I had some good foster parents, but it seemed like every time I got attached something happened, and I was shuttled off to a new set. Being part of Alola’s large clan of relatives was pretty much my first exposure to that sort of extended connection.

I had started the divorce from Jason before I left the US, and it came through five months after I arrived in Tuvalu. That was my last connection to the US, or so I thought, and I was off to a new chapter in my life.

Alola and I went out for dinner, drinks or something at least twice a week. We went dancing a few times, and we were best friends. We told each other the story of our lives, I told her about college in the US, and she told me about graduating from the university where we worked,

I told her the story of Jason and the 18 months we were married, and she told me about the boyfriend she’d had all through school and how he left for Australia to work and never came back.

I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I told her about the money and how it came into my possession. “Oh, my God, Kai! I would have been too afraid to even get out of the car,” she said. “Wow, you’re like rich, though.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be fine,” I said. “I’ll make enough teaching to live comfortably here. It did get me my house and a chance to move here, though. Plus, I got to meet you.”

We were sitting on my sofa talking, and she snuggled up, pulling my arm over her shoulder. “I’m really glad,” ukraynalı escort she said. “What do you think happened to all those guys?”

“It was a drug deal that went bad,” I said. “I’m not sure exactly who was the buyer and who was the seller, but they just simultaneously decided to murder each other, I guess.”

She shivered and I squeezed her. “I’m glad we don’t have anything like that here,” she said. “Kai, do you think anyone will ever find out you took the money?”

“I don’t see how,” I told her. “All those guys are dead, and no one else ever knew I was there.” In that, I was overly optimistic.

*****

It took me six months to get my citizenship, and by that time the new semester had started and the university offered me an assistant professorship. I jumped on it and I now had an office, a secretary and Alola ate lunch with me every day, either in my office or we went somewhere.

It was 3 PM, my last class had been at 2, I had an hour of office time for my students and I was just shutting down to go home. My secretary buzzed me and told me I had a Mr. Brown there to see me.

I didn’t know any Mr. Browns, and I asked her who he was and what he wanted. She said he was from the US Drug Enforcement Agency, and he needed to speak with me.

My heart did a flip-flop and beat wildly, but there was nothing to do but talk to the dude, so I told her to send him in.

Mr. Brown was… average. That’s about all you could say. He was about six feet, my height, had brown hair and brown eyes, was a bit overweight and balding.

“Please sit down, Mr. Brown. May I see some identification?” I asked.

He showed me his official ID and took a seat in a chair in front of my desk. “What can I do for you today?” I asked. “I smoke a little weed, but this isn’t the US and I’m afraid it’s a little outside your jurisdiction.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m not here to bust your chops about smoking weed,” he said. “I’m looking for information.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I said. “I’m a citizen of Tuvalu, and have nothing to do with the US or the DEA, I’m afraid. In fact, I really have nothing to say to you, at all.”

“Let me refresh your memory,” he said. “You were a US citizen, living in Arizona, married to Jason Hayes. You stumbled across a drug buy. We know what happened, because one of the buyers was an undercover DEA agent with a Mexican cartel, and we recovered the information he recorded. The agent was killed.”

“Well, that’s all very interesting, I’m sure,” I said. “Even if all that were true, I still have nothing to say to you. I’m sorry about your agent, by the way. Was there anything else?”

“We had a satellite covering the deal, Mrs. Hayes,” he said. “We’ve identified your vehicle.”

“How nice for you,” I said. “Anything else?”

“We would like to know if anyone was alive, if anyone said anything, and we’d like to know what happened to the money,” he said. “This is an official investigation and we’d like you to return to the US and answer some questions that would help us in our investigation.”

“I’d like to be appointed US ambassador to Tuvalu,” I said. “Do you think you can make that happen?”

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