The Rebel's Correction

Rebellion is dangerous; you can’t know where it’s going to end or what damage it’s going to do. Astraea is dangerous as well—dangerous to Cal Chesterfield's peace of mind. She's been a rebel for years, delving into things foreign to Cal's more conservative nature, but she appears to want to change. Unfortunately, she’s been wayward so long, it’s possible she can’t learn to simply be herself.
Cal wants to change, too. He's too staid, too conventional, and he's been a failure at making relationships work. It is time for Cal to step out of the square box he's built for himself and try something different, someone different. Astraea is a perfect change of pace. But can Cal really change and loosen up? More importantly, can Astraea calm down and find a way to love herself so she can love another?
Tag Line: Rebellious and seemingly unable to love herself, Astraea must learn from Cal, submitting to his correction.
Excerpt (987 words):
After locking his bike up, Cal entered the coffee shop; the smells of hearty coffee and sweet pastries hit him immediately, and his stomach growled in response. Caffeine Habit made a killer gluten-free coconut pie, and Cal wasn't in the mood to resist it.
His usual barista wasn't at the coffee bar that day. Joe, a friendly sort of fellow, had been replaced for this shift by a young woman. She was beautiful and exotic, wearing Goth makeup of dark red lips and heavily kohled eyes. And what blue eyes they were! Crystal clear, surrounded by heavily mascaraed black eyelashes. Her skin was a nearly translucent, pale cream and looked smooth as silk. She was tall, too. Cal stood six feet, three inches, and he estimated that this woman had to be at least five-ten. She wore the usual Caffeine Habit uniform, dark pants, dark Caffeine Habit t-shirt and a red apron, but the shirt suited her far more than it ever did Joe. Her name tag said "Astraea.
Forcing himself back from his admiration of the young woman, Cal gave her a smile. "Good afternoon, Astraea. I see Joe's not here today."
She smiled back, though it was a professional smile, impersonal.
"Joe's off today. What can I get you?"
"A double dose espresso, and a coconut cream pie."
"Okay. Have a seat and I'll bring it to you."
That was nice of her. Normally a customer waited at the register until the order was up.  But, of course, in the middle of the afternoon, there weren't many other customers there, so she had some time to wait tables if she wanted to keep busy.
It took about five minutes, but Cal waited patiently at the table. He normally chose one with a view out the picture windows onto the street, but today, he wanted to watch what was inside the coffee shop: Astraea. When she turned to get his coffee, he got a good look at the back of her where the apron didn't cover. She had a long, narrow waist and a butt that was tightly outlined in black yoga pants. It was a perfect butt, too. He wished he could lift her by it and take her right up against the wall. That was such an inappropriate thought, he almost blushed. But he was deeply drawn to her in a curious way. Although he'd seen Goth girls before, this one…this particular one, was different.
The coffee, pie, and Astraea arrived, and she gracefully set his order before him. Cal wanted to keep her close, if he could, so he started to make conversation. A little flirting, maybe, but nothing too intense.
"So, how long have you been working here, Astraea?"
"About two days. They're trying me on different shifts before they decide which one will work best." As she spoke, Cal watched those gorgeous, red lips form the words. All he could think of was putting her mouth around his cock.
Up close, he noticed that she had a little piercing on one side, just to the outside of her upper lip. A small diamond stud winked at him as she spoke. Damn, that was sexy.
Her hair looked glossy and soft, black, streaked with cobalt blue. He'd never gone for that kind of style, but on her, the strands of blue in her shoulder-length hair and bangs were a compliment to her features. She obviously took care of her looks.
"How do you like working here?" he asked, trying to keep his mind on the conversation.
She shrugged. "They're nice and the location is good. I can't complain."
They stared at each other for a long moment, and then she smiled. It was a sexy, flirtatious smile. Cal returned it and saw his chance.
"So, do you live around here?"
"Not far. I walk to work. Don't have a car."
Astraea's hands were slender and long-fingered, tipped with dark red, short nails. She wore no wedding ring. Yes!
"I bike over here from the Cross Roads gym a mile or so away. I'm here almost every day around this time."
"Ah. Maybe we'll see each other again."
"That would be great."
She looked around, about to walk away, but no customers were trying to get her attention, and none had entered the shop. Instead of getting back to her duties, she lingered. "What do you do?"
"I'm a CEO, and I own a little nightclub near the mall."
"I club a lot. Which one?"
"Bittersweet on Stevens Creek."
"No shit! It used to be such a dive, but I heard it got cleaned up. I guess you're the 'new management' that was behind it?"

"I suppose so. I've owned it for about nine months."
"Wow, that is so cool." She grinned again and winked at him. "So you can comp me in some Saturday, right?"
Cal laughed. "Sure. You and a few friends, if you like."
"Fuck yeah! Thanks, man. What's your name?"
"Cal Chesterfield. And I know yours from your badge."
"Yeah, I go by Astraea. It's my stage name. I'm a model."
Cal looked around the shop and then raised his eyebrows at her.
"Well, I'm trying to be a model. It's a tough gig."
"I understand completely. So, Astraea the model, what do you do for fun?"
"Clubbing with my homies, mostly. But I like to read as well. I'm not really into TV."
"Me, either. I mean, I'm not into TV. I have one, but it's for news and sports, not 'entertainment'."
"Is there a 'Mrs. Cal Chesterfield'?"
He grinned. "No. And a 'Mr. Astraea'?"
"Hell no." She sank down on her haunches at the side of the table, giving him a peek down the front of her t-shirt. Her breasts were small and round, snuggled in a bright pink lacy bra. "So, Cal, maybe we could get together sometime? A little fuck date?"
Cal had to blink.

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Author bio and contact info:
Trish Walters is a newly minted author with a long track record in the writing business, first as a technical writer, and now as a fiction author. She’s an American ex-pat, living in Canada.
You can contact Trish at
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