Verity
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12) Shanna Crawford and Susan Gilbert Rossman, the two of you have made my life more manageable than I could have ever imagined. The work and dedication you both put into Book Bonanza and The Bookworm Box is unmatched. I couldn’t have two better people running that half of my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
13) Johanna Castillo. We had almost seven great years together. I’m heartbroken you are no longer my editor, but ecstatic for your new adventures. One thing that will never change is our friendship. I miss you and can’t wait to see where your new journey takes you!
14) Jane Dystel. In the beginning of my career, I was a fish lost at sea without a single clue about this business. It’s been seven years now, and I am STILL a fish lost at sea without a single clue about this business. But with you at my side, I never have to worry. Thank you for taking all the stressful pieces of this business I don’t want to deal with and attacking them like no one else could. I am beyond grateful for you.
15) Lauren Abramo. You are a machine. I hope you take a full week off for the holidays and turn off your phone. I’ve never known anyone more dedicated and organized than you. Your patience with my lack of organization knows no bounds. Thank you for all you do!
16) Elissa Down. Thank you for bringing Owen and Auburn to life in Confess. You’re a phenomenal director and an equally phenomenal human. Working with you was such a wonderful experience, I hope we get to do it again.
17) Brooke Howard. I just love you. Everything about you. Thank you for putting up with me.
18) Joy and Holly Nichols. Y’all are two of my favorite people. I’m so happy y’all are in my life now.
19) Stephanie Cohen. I pretty much owe everything to you. All of it. You are amazing in so many ways and I am so lucky our paths crossed. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I can’t imagine I would even have this career if it weren’t for you. You are the epitome of what humans should strive to be, and I mean that. I know it isn’t easy running my life because I make it way more difficult than it should be. But because of you, I don’t have to change who I am. Thanks for that.
20) Erica Ramirez and Brenda Perez. My favorite sister duo and two of the sweetest people I have the pleasure of knowing. I appreciate you both so very much and am so lucky to have you both in my life.
21) Book Club. I know I’m the worst book club member, but thank y’all so much for that one night every month when we just get to hang out, talk books, and eat cake. It’s my favorite night of the month.
22) Melinda Knight. I’m so grateful for you and your whole family. All you guys have done for our charity is appreciated. I’m so happy that Cale and Emma have each other. Now move to Hopkins County, already.
23) Tiffanie DeBartolo. Thank you for your books and thank you for your excellent taste in music. You are my go-to when I need good art in my life.
24) Kim Jones. Thank you for…well…maybe I’ll remember by the time I write the acknowledgments for my next book.
25) Social Butterfly, Murphy Rae, Marion Making Manuscripts, Karen Lawson, Elaine York. Thank y’all for the edits, the marketing, the cover design, the formatting, and the work each of you put into this book.
26) Shannon O’Neill. Thank you for all you’ve done for The Bookworm Box and the book community in general. You are a shining star in this industry.
27) KA Tucker. I still want to collaborate on a book with you, so I’m thanking you in advance for agreeing to it. I’ve been told what you put into this world will manifest, so this is me, manifesting our collaboration.
28) Tillie Cole. I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I just wanted to thank you for your insta stories. Watching you talk is like therapy for me. You should probably bill me for all the therapy sessions I’ve saved money on now that I have your stories.
29) Jenn Sterling. I need new post cards for my computer, Jenn. Get on it. I miss your face. I’m so happy to see you happy.
30) Abbi Glines. Thank you for all you’ve done for me this year. I know it isn’t easy being away from that precious family of yours, but I am and always will be grateful for your friendship and the time you give. You’re a rockstar.
31) Ariele Fredman Stewart. Thank you for letting me steal a name from you. You shouldn’t have such great taste in names and terrible taste in friends. I love you.
32) Kathryn Perez. How you’ve handled the past year of your life has been nothing short of inspiring. Thank you for being you, for being there for me, and for being so positive in a world that sometimes makes that difficult.
33) BB Easton. Will you say hello to Ken for me?
34) Dina Silver. Your cat is dumb.
35) Kendall Ryan. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to give me advice and encouragement. I appreciate it more than you know!
36) Levi, Cale, and Beckham. I love you all so much. You make me proud every day. Please don’t read this book.
37) Heath Hoover. You aren’t allowed to read this book, either. I love you and I would like to stay married to you.
38) Thank you to bloggers. The hard work you put into your careers simply because you love books is inspiring. I’m sorry the ARCs for this particular book were such a hot mess. That happens when you don’t finish the book until four days before release. I will do better next time, I promise. Thank you for ALL you do.
39) To every one of you reading these acknowledgments. Whether you’re here because you hate this book or here because you love it, the important thing is that you are reading. Thank you for that. Now that you’ve finished this one, go devour another one. <3
40) To Vance Fite, the man who raised me since I was four years old. You were and still are a huge inspiration. I miss you. We all do.
“With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” –Desiderata by Max Ehrmann
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Read on for a free sample of the New York Times bestselling novel by Colleen Hoover, All Your Perfects
All Your Perfects
Chapter One
The doorman didn’t smile at me.That thought plagues me during the entire ride up the elevator to Ethan’s floor. Vincent has been my favorite doorman since Ethan moved into this apartment building. He always smiles and chats with me. But today, he simply held the door open with a stoic expression. Not even a, “Hello, Quinn. How was your trip?”
We all have bad days, I guess.
I look down at my phone and see that it’s already after seven. Ethan should be home at eight, so I’ll have plenty of time to surprise him with dinner. And myself. I came back a day early but decided not to tell him. We’ve been doing so much planning for our wedding; it’s been weeks since we had an actual home-cooked meal together. Or even sex.
When I reach Ethan’s floor, I pause as soon as I step out of the elevator. There’s a guy pacing the hallway directly in front of Ethan’s apartment. He takes three steps, then pauses and looks at the door. He takes another three steps in the other direction and pauses again. I watch him, hoping he’ll leave, but he never does. He just keeps pacing back and forth, looking at Ethan’s door. I don’t think he’s a friend of Ethan’s. I would recognize him if he were.
I walk toward Ethan’s apartment and clear my throat. The guy faces me and I motion toward Ethan’s door to let him know I need to get past him. The guy steps aside and makes room for me but I’m careful not to make further eye contact with him. I fish around in my purse for the key. When I find it, he moves beside me, pressing a hand against the door. “Are you about to go in there?”
I glance up at him and then back at Ethan’s door. Why is he asking me that? My heart begins to race at the thought of being alone in a h
allway with a strange guy who’s wondering if I’m about to open a door to an empty apartment. Does he know Ethan isn’t home? Does he know I’m alone?
I clear my throat and try to hide my fear, even though the guy looks harmless. But I guess evil doesn’t have a telling exterior, so it’s hard to judge. “My fiancé lives here. He’s inside,” I lie.
The guy nods vigorously. “Yeah. He’s inside all right.” He clenches his fist and taps the wall next to the door. “Inside my fucking girlfriend.”
I took a self-defense class once. The instructor taught us to slide a key between our fingers, poking outward, so if you’re attacked you can stab the attacker in the eye. I do this, prepared for the psycho in front of me to lunge any second now.
He blows out a breath and I can’t help but notice the air between us fills with the smell of cinnamon. What a strange thought to have in the moment before I’m attacked. What an odd lineup that would be at the police station. “Oh, I can’t really tell you what my attacker was wearing, but his breath smelled good. Like Big Red.”
“You have the wrong apartment,” I tell him, hoping he’ll walk away without an argument.
He shakes his head. Tiny little fast shakes that indicate I couldn’t be more wrong and he couldn’t be more right. “I have the right apartment. I’m positive. Does your fiancé drive a blue Volvo?”
Okay, so he’s stalking Ethan? My mouth is dry. Water would be nice.
“Is he about six foot tall? Black hair, wears a North Face jacket that’s too big for him?”
I press a hand against my stomach. Vodka would be nice.
“Does your fiancé work for Dr. Van Kemp?”
Now I’m the one shaking my head. Not only does Ethan work for Dr. Van Kemp . . . his father is Dr. Van Kemp. How does this guy know so much about Ethan?
“My girlfriend works with him,” he says, glancing at the apartment door with disgust. “More than works with him, apparently.”
“Ethan wouldn’t . . .”I’m interrupted by it. The fucking.I hear Ethan’s name being called out in a faint voice. At least it’s faint from this side of the door. Ethan’s bedroom is against the far side of his apartment, which indicates that whoever she is, she isn’t being quiet about it. She’s screaming his name.
While he fucks her.
I immediately back away from the door. The reality of what is happening inside Ethan’s apartment makes me dizzy. It makes my whole world unstable. My past, my present, my future—all of it is spinning out of control. The guy grips my arm and stabilizes me. “You okay?” He steadies me against the wall. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.”
I open my mouth, but uncertainty is all that comes out. “Are you . . . are you sure? Maybe those sounds aren’t coming from Ethan’s apartment. Maybe it’s the couple in the apartment next door.”
“That’s convenient. Ethan’s neighbor is named Ethan, too?”
It’s a sarcastic question, but I immediately see the regret in his eyes after he says it. That’s nice of him—finding it in himself to feel compassion for me when he’s obviously experiencing the same thing. “I followed them,” he says. “They’re in there together. My girlfriend and your . . . boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” I correct.
I walk across the hallway and lean against the wall, then eventually slide down to the floor. I probably shouldn’t plop myself on the floor because I’m wearing a skirt. Ethan likes skirts, so I thought I’d be nice and wear one for him, but now I want to take my skirt off and tie it around his neck and choke him with it. I stare at my shoes for so long, I don’t even notice that the guy is sitting on the floor next to me until he says, “Is he expecting you?”
I shake my head. “I was here to surprise him. I’ve been out of town with my sister.”
Another muffled scream makes its way through the door. The guy next to me cringes and covers his ears. I cover mine, too. We sit like this for a while. Both of us refusing to allow the noises to penetrate our ears until it’s over. It won’t last long. Ethan can’t last more than a few minutes.
Two minutes later I say, “I think they’re finished.” The guy pulls his hands from his ears and rests his arms on his knees. I wrap my arms around mine, resting my chin on top of them. “Should we use my key to open the door? Confront them?”
“I can’t,” he says. “I need to calm down first.”
He seems pretty calm. Most men I know would be breaking down the door right now.
I’m not even sure I want to confront Ethan. Part of me wants to walk away and pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen. I could text him and tell him I came home early and he could tell me he’s working late and I could remain blissfully ignorant.
Or I could just go home, burn all his things, sell my wedding dress, and block his number.
No, my mother would never allow that.
Oh, God. My mother.
I groan and the guy immediately sits up straight. “Are you about to be sick?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t know.” I pull my head from my arms and lean back against the wall. “It just hit me how pissed my mother is going to be.”
He relaxes when he sees I’m not groaning from physical illness, but rather from the dread of my mother’s reaction when she finds out the wedding is off. Because it’s definitely off. I lost count of how many times she’s mentioned how much the deposit was in order to get on the waiting list at the venue. “Do you realize how many people wish they could get married at Douglas Whimberly Plaza? Evelyn Bradbury was married there, Quinn. Evelyn Bradbury!”
My mother loves to compare me to Evelyn Bradbury. Her family is one of the few in Greenwich who is more prominent than my stepfather’s. So of course my mother uses Evelyn Bradbury as an example of high-class perfection at every opportunity. I don’t care about Evelyn Bradbury. I have half a mind to text my mother right now and simply say, The wedding is off and I don’t give a fuck about Evelyn Bradbury.
“What’s your name?” the guy asks.
I look at him and realize it’s the first time I’ve really taken him in. This might be one of the worst moments of his life, but even taking that into consideration, he’s extremely handsome. Expressive dark brown eyes that match his unruly hair. A strong jaw that’s been constantly twitching with silent rage since I walked out of the elevator. Two full lips that keep being pressed together and thinned out every time he glances at the door. It makes me wonder if his features would appear softer if his girlfriend weren’t in there with Ethan right now.
There’s a sadness about him. Not one related to our current situation. Something deeper . . . like it’s embedded in him. I’ve met people who smile with their eyes, but he frowns with his.
“You’re better looking than Ethan.” My comment takes him off guard. His expression is swallowed up in confusion because he thinks I’m hitting on him. That’s the last thing I’m doing right now. “That wasn’t a compliment. It was just a realization.”
He shrugs like he wouldn’t care either way.“It’s just that if you’re better looking than Ethan, that makes me think your girlfriend is better looking than me. Not that I care. Maybe I do care. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t help but wonder if Ethan is more attracted to her than he is to me. I wonder if that’s why he’s cheating. Probably. I’m sorry. I’m usually not this self-deprecating but I’m so angry and for some reason I just can’t stop talking.”
He stares at me a moment, contemplating my odd train of thought. “Sasha is ugly. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Sasha?” I say her name incredulously, then I repeat her name, putting emphasis on the sha. “Sasha. That explains a lot.”He laughs and then I laugh and it’s the strangest thing. Laughing when I should be crying. Why am I not crying?
“I’m Graham,” he says, reaching out his hand.
“Quinn.”
Even his smile is sad. It makes me wonder if his smile would be different under different circumstances.“I would say it’s good to
meet you, Quinn, but this is the worst moment of my life.”
That is a very miserable truth.
“Same,” I say, disappointed. “Although, I’m relieved I’m meeting you now rather than next month, after the wedding. At least I won’t be wasting marriage vows on him now.”
“You’re supposed to get married next month?” Graham looks away. “What an asshole,” he says quietly.
“He really is.” I’ve known this about Ethan all along. He’s an asshole. Pretentious. But he’s good to me. Or so I thought. I lean forward again and run my hands through my hair. “God, this sucks.”
As always, my mother has perfect timing with her incoming text. I retrieve my phone and look down at it.
Your cake tasting has been moved to two o’clock on Saturday. Don’t eat lunch beforehand. Will Ethan be joining us?
I sigh with my whole body. I’ve been looking forward to the cake tasting more than any other part of the wedding planning. I wonder if I can avoid telling anyone the wedding is off until Sunday.
The elevator dings and my attention is swept away from my phone and to the doors. When they open, I feel a knot form in my throat. My hand clenches in a fist around my phone when I see the containers of food. The delivery guy begins to walk toward us and my heart takes a beating with every step. Way to pour salt on my wounds, Ethan.
“Chinese food? Are you kidding me?” I stand up and look down at Graham who is still on the floor, looking up at me. I wave my hand toward the Chinese food. “That’s my thing! Not his! I’m the one who likes Chinese food after sex!” I turn back toward the delivery guy and he’s frozen, staring at me, wondering if he should proceed to the door or not. “Give me that!” I take the bags from him. He doesn’t even question me. I plop back down on the floor with the two bags of Chinese food and I rifle through them. I’m pissed to see that Ethan simply duplicated what I always order. “He even ordered the same thing! He’s feeding Sasha my Chinese food!”