“What exactly do you think we should tell her?”
“Considering the combustible chemistry between us,” he said, echoing my thoughts, “I’d say we should tell her we’re considering a Thanksgiving wedding.”
“Thanksgiving! That’s next week.”
“I’ve never been one to hesitate when I see a good investment opportunity. Neither are you, Jilly.”
With Red Drape Gallery as evidence, I could see why he’d say that, and my imagination went dreamy for a second.
“I’d go for an elopement to the beautiful grounds at Holland House, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just add a few hundred twinkle lights, a wedding dress, family, and the priest.”
“I like how you think.” He kissed me again, softly. I liked how he thought, too. “But we can’t omit Ryker.”
Oh, right. Ryker and Phoebe would have to be on the guest list. And Mars Yuber, unless he’d already made himself family with an even quicker elopement by Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t put it past him and Trixie. And we’d invite Tyanne and Grady Ingliss. Tyanne would die when she found out my wedding was happening before hers.
What could I do, though? Like she’d predicted, when it was right, I’d known it. There was no sense waiting to commit, and no sense wasting time to love.
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If you enjoyed this book escape, please leave a review. Even a single line helps get the book in front of more readers of sweet romance. Thank you!
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Other Legally in Love books available on Amazon:
Asked & Answered: Carson asked, Becca answered— no. Now they’re facing off in court. Will the sparks reignite as they fly?
Legally Wedded: Morgan and Josh are desperate for financial aid to finish college, but are they desperate enough to get legally wedded?
Wills & Trust: Brooke is named in a stranger’s will. Does she dare ask her lifelong crush Dane to be her lawyer, even if she has accepted another man’s ring?
Entries Coming Soon in this Collection:
Attractive Nuisance
Illegally Wedded
Assumes Facts Not in Evidence
Breach of Promise
Badgering the Witness
Leading Question
Billionaire Makeover Romance books available on Amazon:
The Lost Art: Dowdy art curator Ava gives herself a makeover just in time for an art theft to bring both a quirky billionaire and a handsome FBI agent in to solve the cozy mystery.
Immersed: Gorgeous multi-lingual language coach Lisette gives herself a hideous make-under to keep interested clients at bay, but dropping her disguise when the man of her dreams hires her might sink her business. How will she show him the real Lisette?
Coming Soon in this Collection:
My Fair Aussie: Gender-flipped My Fair Lady! As nanny for a horrid woman, Eliza needs to give her snobby, gold-digging boss a comeuppance— by tricking her into falling for an Australian-accented bus station hobo Eliza makes over. But the vagabond has more charm than Eliza bargained for.
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Acknowledgments
I want to thank a whole slew of people who helped bring Mergers & Acquisitions into the world. First as always is my husband, Gary. As he says, he isn’t just my beta-reader, he’s my alpha-reader. He took me to Old Town Pasadena in the fall of 2016 to see the art galleries at Huntington Gardens and to eat gelato (about twelve times in four days), where I fell in love with the town— and with Gary all over again. It was on the drive back to Arizona that we laughed and joked and plotted this whole book together. He’s my muse and my first editor and my happiness.
As for the second wave of readers, who I always need to give me confidence and reassurance (writers can be such insecure basket cases sometimes!), I thank Cindy Anaya, Donna Hatch, and Nancy Moors, all great authors who have been so generous with their time and expertise. They each gave guidance. Paula Bothwell and Dannielle Hext offered valuable proofreading help. Dillon McGaughey created a beautiful cover, based on a design by Steven Novak.
Credit goes to Louise Tolman for her perfect title of the tunnel of love ride, “Swept Away,” at the amusement park. The Facebook hive-mind gave so many hilarious suggestions, I wanted to use them all. Thanks, cool friends.
I owe my kids for their encouragement— and their prayers. They are sweet and supportive and the joy of my days. I love them fiercely.
Finally, and I probably should have put this first, a big thanks to readers of clean fiction like mine. You make this effort all worth it. Many happy page-turns to you all.
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Author’s Note
This story sprang to mind after a fun visit my husband and I took to Old Town Pasadena. There are a few vague references to its shops and galleries in this book, but the bulk of them are fictional, with the exception of Huntington Gardens and its beautiful grounds and galleries. Over the years, it has been one of our favorite places to visit because it combines in the most elegant and excellent ways my husband’s love for gardens and my obsession with art galleries. I wish I lived closer and could get a lifetime membership. I’d probably hang out there every day, become the Huntington Gardens ghost or something, the weird lady with my laptop, roaming the gardens, hogging the benches, being inspired to write beautiful things. If you ever get a chance to go, please take that opportunity. You won’t be disappointed.
The art and magazines and talent agencies are all made up, as is the bank where Aero works, and (unfortunately) Mars Yuber. Wouldn’t it be amazing if some artist faked his death just so he’d have more time to paint, but he came out of hiding to return to the arms of his long-lost true love? Sigh.
In the final days before Mergers & Acquisitions released, a friend of mine shot me a news article about a stolen painting by master Willem de Koenig that was recovered in a rural town near mine (I mean, we live in the sticks, baby), after an estate sale left it hanging behind a bedroom door and some pickers came and … picked it up. Voila, lost art found!
While my story of the lost portrait’s rediscovery is pure fiction, there is real life stuff happening like it all the time. If you ever hear of something like that, please message me. I’d love to hear about it.
About the Author
Jennifer Griffith is the author of over a dozen books of sweet romance and romantic comedy. She and her husband live in rural Arizona where he’s a judge and they’re raising their five brilliant kids through their own version of romantic comedy that they call life.
Contact her via her website at authorjennifergriffith.com.
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Even Further Reading
Check out this preview of Asked & Answered, Book 1 in the Legally in Love Collection. You can download it for free here when you sign up for my newsletter, or it’s available on Amazon here.
Asked & Answered
CHAPTER ONE
“Pretrial Hearing”
A drip trickled down Becca Goldfinch’s neck, but Xanthe swiped at it quickly with a towel, relieving Becca from the creepy crawlies.
“I’m telling you, dear. You can’t be too careful.” Xanthe unfolded another square of aluminum foil and placed a section of Becca’s hair on it. “When there are red flags, you have to slow down.”
“What kinds of red flags?” The looming answer tugged and repelled her at once. It struck at the very heart of her worries, and sitting here listening to this woman, she realized just how alone she was in the world, without someone else close she could turn to right now. Grandma out of the country. Mom gone. Forever. So Becca was stuck— with only Xanthe. Still, she needed to know— yet dreaded what might follow. Because it might mean losing Carson.
“I don’t mean, like, is he warm or cool-toned, introverted or extroverted.” Xanthe painted color paste onto the section of Becca’s hair. “More like are you truly compatible?”
Or does he resonate to certain types of crystals? Uh, no. By day, Becca sat in honors classes— Biology, Genetics, Botany— at the Unive
rsity of Arizona. She was going to be a serious botanist at the end of this college experience, so hokey new age stuff wasn’t part of her decision.
Even if she was a freshman.
“He’s a Virgo, and I’m a Scorpio.” Becca floated a trial balloon to test Xanthe’s credibility here. If something came out next about long walks on the beach, this conversation was over. And Becca would be left to her own indecision and anguish. Because when Carson started acting more serious about things last week, she’d begun a slow crescendo of panic.
Xanthe rolled her eyes and hummed. “Nnnno. I don’t go in for that horoscope stuff. I’m talking about real psychology here. Before I went to hair school I got a masters in Psychology at the University of Arizona.”
Right. Where was Grandma Goldfinch and her horse sense when Becca needed her?
Bermuda. That’s where. It was weird not meeting her for lunch or taking her to her doctor appointments, especially when Becca had so many amazing things going on. In fact, Grandma had only met Carson once. And now, here was Becca, contemplating a future with him.
Sort of. More like being terrified of one. And yet drawn to him so inexorably. He was the flame she couldn’t resist.
“How come you didn’t get a job in your field?” Chemical sulfur drifted up to Becca’s nose, making her stomach churn.
Xanthe’s arm dropped to her side. “Doing what? I can use my psych skills much easier and earn more money doing hair.” She set to work again on the hair coloring project. “I get to talk to people all day, genuine people, people who would never schedule a session with a counselor, and help them. I’m picking up the slack for the psychology industry. Doing the world a favor.” She folded a piece of aluminum around the final section of hair to highlight, then handed Becca a magazine and led her to a chair with a blow dryer helmet attached. “It’s a way to use my gifts and not have to sit behind a desk all day. All that sitting? It’ll kill ya dead— and young.”
Becca had read that study, too. It made her stew about how many hours a day she sat in a classroom and at her study carrel in the library’s basement while Carson finished his senior year classes. He was going to law school next year. He took the LSAT last fall, and he had a clear shot at getting into the U of A’s very good law school. He had career success written all over him.
Well, probably. That was one of the worries. Was he all talk and no action? There were guys like that, sweet talkers who told women what they wanted to hear. The big dreamers who never really followed through. Her dad left earlier than her mom, but both of them left Becca. Not a chance she’d put herself or her future children in a situation where even one parent turned into a missing anchor.
Grandma had raised her, been her anchor instead. If only she hadn’t left for that long trip! Then Becca wouldn’t be sitting here confiding in her hairdresser.
Carson was only twenty-one. He was older than Becca, almost done with his degree, but still hadn’t done much real stuff in life. How could Becca tell what Future Carson was like?
In the last few months, she’d spent most afternoons with him, heading to the running trails in the hills to the west of the city. She loved Tucson for how close the city was to the desert, just like her hometown of Bisbee, even though she had to face the occasional rattlesnake and a few tarantulas now and then. They were a small price to pay for the freedom of the great outdoors. And the chance they gave her to coast along the dirt trail to the foot-beats of Carson’s ever-entertaining conversation.
Carson Huxley. She sat under the dryer and closed her eyes to see his face. That grin of his affected everyone. Everybody loved Carson. The fun guy. The life of the party. The guy who never stopped talking about the latest funny political scandal or some classic muscle car. But Becca knew some other sides of him— like he really loved his family, would do anything to help them out, and that he cared deeply about justice and truth, protection of the innocent, which was what drove him to study the law.
It almost made her want to go law school, too. Just abandon her botany degree and with it, her plans to become a master gardener and develop new breeds of tomatoes that grew better in the desert. His passion was that infectious.
It sounded cheesy at eighteen to tell herself he was the guy she’d always been looking for. But somehow her soul had echoed with this sense of eternal loneliness— until now. And Carson filled that void. Every day she spent with him made her life strawberry-covered bliss.
And he’d been no coy, casual dater when it came to expressing how he felt about her.
Becca, I’m falling for you. He’d said it aloud on their third date, Halloween. She’d worn a stupid costume, as studying gave her no time to prep for the party he’d invited her to, and she was embarrassed to the hilt when he came to pick her up in her disguise as the toilet paper mummy. Sixteen steps out the door, and the thing was falling to pieces, and she began tearing it off, leaving a trail to provide some poor homeless person a little needed Charmin comfort. They blew off the costume party and got Eegee’s slush and drank it atop the mountain with the U of A “A” on it.
And she’d kissed him.
“Your color should be done by now. Let’s just peel up this foil and check.” Xanthe tilted up the noisy helmet, and Becca popped her ears. “Yeppers. Now we have to rinse before you’re as striped as a skunk. I hate those sharp contrasts in the hair coloring, don’t you?”
Becca followed Xanthe to the sink, leaned her head back and let the water flow cool and refreshing over her scalp. Xanthe hummed a song while her fingertips worked the solution off Becca’s hair.
Instead of all this relationship drama, Becca ought to be worrying about tomorrow’s final in Botany 455, which was going to be a killer. She’d had to do some serious knee-scraping as she begged to be admitted to the upper-division class, and she should be spending every second proving she was worth the risk, not daydreaming about Carson Huxley.
Or worrying.
Honestly, Becca should be thrilled. Tonight Carson was taking her to Tono Chul, a park downtown known for its cactus blossoms, the night blooming cereus. Even thinking of the place made her tingle with excitement. I’ve always dreamed of having someone propose to me at Tono Chul. She’d told him this during one of their cool-down walks after a good run in the desert hills. She never thought he’d remember. At that point in their dating it never occurred to her that Carson might actually be listening, taking note of her little wishes. It’d been so new then.
But now he’d called, and tonight he was taking her to Tono Chul.
It was too early in the year for the blossoms, most likely, and no one ever had much more than twelve hours’ notice before they bloomed, but she loved the park any time, whether the elusive flowers that bloomed en masse only one night a year were on display or not.
“But back to what we were talking about earlier.” Xanthe towel-dried Becca’s hair. “You’ve got to be extra careful. Marriage— it’s something you should approach with your eyes wide open.”
“And then half shut your eyes once you’re in?”
“I’ve been married six times.” She sighed and selected a comb. “Should’ve opened my eyes a lot wider five of those times.”
Six! Becca didn’t think Xanthe looked older than thirty. “So you kept them three-fourths shut on the sixth?”
“No, I gouged them out for the sixth.” Xanthe had an engaging cackle. It bounced off the tile floor and ended with a staccato snort. “Still married after five years. Look, that’s why I sort of make it my mission to educate the uninitiated. I’ve prevented some disasters.”
“Disasters? How?”
Becca might only be eighteen, but she’d seen a few of her slightly older friends’ marriages go down in flames already, marriages that on paper looked ideal. That was what scared her. This fluttery, strawberry-smothered world she lived in dating Carson might be a façade. Love is blind, and Becca figured she didn’t even have the merest of low vision anymore about him. Another perspective from someone less swimming i
n fruit syrup might be wise. Especially before things escalated, as they might tonight.
“Yes, disasters. One woman I know almost married a guy without a job. Pah!”
Carson didn’t have a job. Unless you counted poli-sci tutor. But nothing with an income.
“Another woman caught herself just in time before saying yes to her boyfriend’s proposal after only knowing him for nine months. Nine months! Can you imagine?”
Becca only met Carson in early October. May winds stirred up dust devils today. October through May. But only part of May. A little sick feeling crept up Becca’s bones.
“Maybe she felt like she’d known him forever?”
Xanthe rolled her eyes. “Everyone feels that way, at first. And then you get married and you think, ‘Who is this total stranger?’ Believe me. It happens. Every time.”
Becca wrung her hands together under the long black apron draped over her body. “How can you tell if it’s going to be a good match, then?”
Xanthe pounced right on this. “Oh, I have a set of three foolproof tests. They have to be administered together.”
Tests? Oh, great. It wasn’t one of those “Your Blood Type Determines Whether You’re a Match” kind of tests, was it? Because Becca already found out in one of those online quizzes that she was B-positive and Carson was AB-negative and they had a thirty-nine percent chance of ‘true love.’ Not that she believed in those things. It was the same as picking petals off a daisy. Harmless. Dreamy. Schoolgirlish.
“First, you find out what kind of a pet person he is.” Xanthe parted Becca’s hair and began rubbing product into the roots in a soothing scalp massage. The foamy pink liquid smelled like mandarin oranges and jasmine. “If he’s a cat person, and you’re a cat person, great. If he’s a dog person and you’re a dog person, also great. But if he’s a dog person and you’re a cat person, that gets put down as a neutral. On the other hand, if the girl is a dog person and he’s a cat person, it’s a negative.”
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