by Ally Blake
“Coach said ‘ass’!” Milla cried.
Angus laughed. “That I did. And when you’re as big as me you can decide if it’s a word you want to say—or not. Till then, let’s see who can think of the best word ever invented. Like...”
“Bubble gum!” Milla said.
“Chocolate!” said Bastian.
Angus grinned down at his team, his gaze lingering on Sonny. Lucinda saw the hitch in his chest and felt her own hitch in response.
She tipped up onto her toes, reached over the fence and wrapped her arms around Angus’s neck, her hand landing on his chest. She whispered, “Thank you for loving my Sonny.”
“Thank you for letting me.”
How could she not? “Did I tell you today how much I love you?”
“Once or twice,” he murmured. His hand lifted to close around hers, his thumb running up and down the sensitive middle of her palm.
She snuggled closer until her entire body seemed to sigh from an overload of pure bliss.
“Now you’re just showing off!” That was Francine.
Lucinda buried her face in Angus’s neck. “You have a fan club, you know?”
“Yeah,” said Angus. “At training they threatened to bring placards. I told them to bring orange quarters instead.”
“It worked.”
“I’m very convincing.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He turned his head just enough to smile into her eyes, then gave her a quick kiss on the nose.
With a sigh, Lucinda let him go.
Now she had him for real, she found it all too hard not to hold tight. Only the belief that he would indeed love her for ever made her able move away. To stand alone.
Angus clicked his fingers. “And I’ve had thoughts on how with a few tweaks the club could make some serious dosh.”
“Sponsorship deal?”
Angus looked at her in wonder. “You. Me. It’s like we have one brain.”
“Two brains,” she said as he backed away to join his team, now squeezing their water bottles at one another. “It’s more fun that way.”
A haze came over Angus’s eyes and she knew he was trying to figure out a client for whom the line might work as a strap line. For, while his hours had also cut right back, ever since he’d moved in and they’d begun working on adding a second floor to her little cottage the guy never switched off.
As she made her way back up to the stands, her phone rang.
“Lucinda, pick up,” crooned the ringtone of her phone in a deep, sexy voice, delivering a message that told her exactly what he’d like to do her when a certain someone was asleep that night.
She quickly pressed the button to hang up the call before it went further than PG. Then, grinning and blushing, she looked over her shoulder to find Angus with his phone to his ear.
She gave him a quick thumbs-up, a “yes, please” to every plan he had, before sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
While it was the kind of ringtone that would get her sideways looks at the supermarket, she might keep it for a while.
Maybe she’d keep it for ever. She was a for ever girl, after all.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Ally Blake
A Week with the Best Man
Hired by the Mysterious Millionaire
Amber and the Rogue Prince
Rescuing the Royal Runaway Bride
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from His Convenient New York Bride by Andrea Bolter.
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His Convenient New York Bride
by Andrea Bolter
CHAPTER ONE
“WOULD YOU HAVE expected any less from a bully like him?” Jin asked as he stirred milk into the mug of coffee in front of him. “I could have guessed he’d find a way to try to hurt my mom and I from his grave.”
“Tell me again what the will stipulates,” his friend Aaron asked, following suit by splashing milk into his own cup before the two friends left the kitchen to sit down on the sofa in the living room. As they had a thousand times before, they both put their long legs up on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle. The only real difference was that their seventeen-year-old selves would have held game consoles instead of java.
“Wei Zhang bequeaths to his only child, Jin Zhang, full ownership of the LilyZ fashion corporation and all of its interests with the following condition,” Jin said, quoting the document his father’s attorney had read to him an hour earlier. He had a printed copy in his briefcase and one on his phone but this section was already committed to memory. “Jin Zhang must be entered into a legal and lawful marriage before ownership is transferred.”
Jin tried to mentally control the irritating vein that was throbbing at his temple. Death hadn’t stopped his father from continuing to create chaos.
“That’s just bizarre. Did your father really care if you remarried or not?”
“Oh, he cares...cared, plenty. After I left Helene, he knew I would never marry again, no matter what.”
“Understandable after what she did to you.”
“That’s why he had the stipulation written into his will. Because he knew it was something I would never do.”
“What happens if you don’t follow the condition?”
“The business gets dissolved.”
“You either get married or lose the fashion label? Who does something like that to his son?” Aaron shook his head in disgust.
“Wei, of course.” Jin’s temple continued to pulse as he tried to process the information he’d learned that afternoon. “Destroying the company was what he wanted to do. He mismanaged just about everything he could while he was alive. And then thought of a way to ensure LilyZ’s demise even after his death.”
After Jin had met with Wei’s attorney he’d come straight over to his best friend Aaron Stewart’s apartment, as he’d been doing for years. Not far from the Chinatown building that housed LilyZ’s studio and Jin’s living quarters, Aaron’s place was a sanctuary for him.
The two men sipped their coffee in silence, their brains turning over the information as dusk became night.
“Your father was so vindictive he wanted to take down the business his own father worked so hard to build into a respected name in fashion?”
“He hated me. And my mother.”
To Aaron, and to Aaron’s younger sister Mimi, Jin could say anything. The three had been hanging out together for more than thirteen years, had seen each other through a lot of life changes already. Aaron and Mimi’s mother dying. Their father dying a year later. Jin’s parents’ divorce. Jin’s divorce from Helene. Now his father, Wei, dying with this, his last act.
“Maybe you never saw it,” Jin continued.
“I don’t think I ever really knew him,” Aaron said. “I do remember the way his nose would wrinkle in a grimace though whenever your mother was mentioned after they split up.”
“Because she dared divorce an alcoholic, cheating, mean-spirited spouse.”
“He never wanted the business in the first place, did he?”
“No. He resented inheritin
g LilyZ from my grandfather Shun from the beginning. My grandfather worked eighteen hours a day for decades to create and sustain a legacy brand that would continue past his death but my father felt it interfered with his drinking and womanizing.”
“Then he should have been happy to leave it to you. You’ve been mostly running things, anyway.”
“I’m telling you, he despised me and wished for me to fail because of my relationship with my grandfather. Shun and I were the same. We loved LilyZ and took pride in it. My father was always the odd man out, because he never cared about anything but himself.”
“And it was clear you took your mother’s side in the divorce.”
“So for his final act, he did what he could to leave us penniless and humiliated.”
Jin could hardly compute all of this. For the past few years, he had taken unofficial control of LilyZ, their high-end, ready-to-wear fashion label. He’d had to. Wei hadn’t even shown up to the studio every day. And when he did stumble through, he was often rude to the staff or disruptive of operations. His only son had been forced to take charge.
In addition to the will, the attorney had also shown Jin his father’s many financial misrepresentations.
“On top of it, I’ve only just found out that our books are in shambles. My father withheld information and made one bad decision after the next. If the company were to be broken up, at this point every penny would go to creditors.”
“The will says you have to get married.” Aaron pondered the situation. “Are there any other specifications?”
Jin exhaled with a whoosh of exasperation. “I don’t take possession or have any power over the financials until I prove that I’m legally married. I must remain married for a one-year probationary period during which I’m officially CEO but not yet the company’s owner.”
“Wait, that means that you only have to be married for one year?”
“Theoretically. But he knew I would never get married again so he did this to set me up to fail.”
“What are our options?” Aaron wondered aloud.
Jin’s best friend was always thoughtful and contemplative. With his deep-set eyes and curly hair, Aaron looked like a philosopher whose likeness might be rendered in marble outside of a great library.
Aaron and Jin always worked through things together, considering each other’s problems their own. Even though two heads were better than one, Jin had his doubts that they were going to be able to solve the problem this time. Because not only was Jin never going to marry again, he wasn’t even going to enter into a serious relationship. Never ever. Not after what he had gotten in return for his devotion to Helene. Jin had been married to her for three years, and she had cheated on him the entire time. A selfish liar, she was. Just like his father. It was he and his mother who were left to pick up the pieces after their spouses took a wrecking ball to everything they’d held true.
Jin flexed his hands. After six months, those hands finally looked normal to him without the wedding band that had once sat on his finger. The ring that had symbolized fidelity and partnership and loyalty. What a joke that was.
The dead bolt turned on the front door with a clack and Jin’s eyes shot to it. With a crank on the handle, Aaron’s sister Mimi walked in. She dropped her bag on the side table, not noticing Jin and Aaron were there at first. Suited up for the late winter cold, Mimi removed her beanie hat, her auburn hair cascading past her shoulders in loose waves. Having been friends for so long Jin knew that Mimi’s radiant hair color didn’t come naturally, but that her curls were her own.
Yanking off one glove then the other, Mimi tossed them next to her bag. Her pale hands set free, she next unwound the gray scarf that was wrapped twice around her throat and had played nicely against the navy color of her coat. A small, and wholly inappropriate, twitch surprised Jin’s shoulder blades when the last of the scarf revealed some more of that creamy skin, this time her neck.
Buttons undone, she removed her coat and hung it on the stand by the door. She wore a terrific pink dress, with a belt of the same fabric that hugged her lavish curves. Mimi was the best dresser he knew and, being in the fashion business, that was saying something.
“Aaron?” she called out before turning around to find her brother and Jin sitting on the couch in the very same room. “Oh. Hey, bro.”
“Sis.”
“Hey, Jin, I didn’t know you were here. Have you guys eaten? I’m starved.”
“How did the interview go?” Aaron asked her.
“Lousy. Just like yesterday’s.”
Mimi was a junior fashion designer. Jin had always felt a little bit of personal pride that she had gone into the business herself, having spent many teenage years around LilyZ and learning about the industry. Aaron had chosen the world of stocks and bonds but with Mimi’s innate fashion sense, it was meant to be.
It irked Jin that she was having employment problems after she’d quit her job because working with her ex-boyfriend was unbearable. All she kept hearing was no, and she’d been forced to move in with her brother to cut expenses.
Aaron was stable but Jin and Mimi were both going through an awful time, made worse by the fact that Jin had recently found out that the last affair Helene had had while they were married had been with LilyZ’s lead designer. Who he’d promptly fired.
It was piled up.
Mimi needed a job.
He had to find a new designer for LilyZ. And now, apparently, a wife.
The events for New York Fashion Week Spring were starting up and LilyZ was not presenting anything because, before he’d died, Wei had blocked Jin from finishing the collection on time. Jin would now need to soothe the ruffled feathers of retailers who counted on his inventory. He had to make excuses. Pretend like everything was under control.
Jin’s headache tightened. What an inconceivable mess!
* * *
“Order some food in,” Aaron told his sister when she reemerged from his bedroom. Having taken off the pink dress she’d designed and sewn herself, Mimi had slipped on comfy black leggings, thick white socks and a red pullover.
“That could be considered sexist, you know,” Mimi teased him, “making the woman take care of the meal.”
“When said woman is living in her brother’s apartment for free it could be called singing for your supper.”
“All right, you’ve got me there.”
She glanced over to Jin on the couch, who had changed positions while she was in the bedroom. No longer with his feet up on the coffee table, he sat in his black slacks with one long leg crossed ankle to knee in a posture Mimi found so decidedly masculine it gave her a flutter.
What was more, it occurred to her that Jin was sitting where she slept, as Aaron’s sofa opened to become the convertible bed she’d been unfolding every night. Jin had been over and sat on the sofa before, but for some reason the thought that it was her bed hadn’t dawned on her. She took a mental snapshot and filed it away in her brain. And then moved on, or tried to, from that picture.
“Jin, are you staying for dinner?”
“I want ramen. I need a huge steaming bowl of noodles.”
“Sounds good to me,” Aaron voted in. “From that place.”
“Yeah,” Jin agreed, “get the kind we liked that one time.”
“Okay.” Mimi knew exactly what they meant and placed the order online.
Afterward, Jin explained to her about the stipulation in his father’s will.
“Does your mom know?” Mimi asked. “I talked to her on the phone yesterday and she didn’t say anything.” The Zhangs and the Stewarts had a long history together and she knew Jin loved it that Mimi was close to his mom.
“No,” Jin stated firmly. “As his ex-wife she wasn’t included in the meeting with the attorney. I don’t want her to ever find out about it.”
“What is it that happens if you
don’t get married? Do either of you want more coffee?”
Aaron shook his head no but Jin thrust out his large, square hand and Mimi moved toward him to grab the mug he held. While doing so, her fingertips brushed against his and she registered the signature heat that always emanated from his hands.
It was as if fiery little sparks that only she could see ignited every time his hands made contact with her skin. Which, during exchanges like this, or during a hug goodbye, or a hand up an unsteady surface, had happened about a million times in the thirteen years she’d known Jin.
Jin’s sparks were Mimi’s deepest secret.
As she went about making more coffee, Jin explained about the will.
Mimi looked from the coffeepot to the blank wall above it.
“It’s so unjust that your father is still in control,” Aaron piped in. “Even though you’ve been effectively helming the business for years.”
Mimi kept her eyes focused on the wall. Aaron was right. Jin had completely taken over everything regarding the clothing label as Wei’s drinking and carousing got worse. It infuriated Mimi to hear that Wei had invented this disruptive will instead of simply bequeathing the company to Jin as was his due.
And Jin marrying again? The mere thought of that was upsetting.
“You didn’t know anything about the finances?” Aaron asked.
“I didn’t have the information on how bad it was. We all know the last two collections didn’t fly. My father wasn’t on top of trends or fabrics or colors or much of anything, and still wouldn’t relinquish any final decisions to me. Even when he was only attending meetings via telecom he’d always shoot down my ideas.”
“You were captaining a sinking ship,” Mimi said.
“What did I go to business school for if he wouldn’t let me implement changes?”
“You wanted to grow and modernize.” Mimi acknowledged the thoughts he’d shared with her many times before. She knew he wanted to go from retailing in twenty stores worldwide up to fifty. “But you were too busy mopping up his messes.”
