by Brooke Page
Conklin’s Blueprints
The first book in Conklin’s Trilogy
Brooke Page
Conklin’s Blueprints
By
Brooke Page
Conklin’s Blueprints
Copyright 2013 by Brooke Page
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be re-produced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The following story contains mature themes and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Edited By: Samantha Hondorp
Cover Design By: Perfect Pear Creative
Contact Brooke Page
http://www.facebook.com/authorbrookepage
Email: [email protected]
Twitter account: BrookePage05
Goodreads account: http://www.goodreads.com/brookepage
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Prologue to Conklin’s Foundation
Special Thanks
About the Author
Acknowledgements
First, I would like to thank my wonderful family and friends who have encouraged me to write. You all are my inspiration. Thanks to my wonderful husband Andy, who didn’t mind entertaining our beautiful children so I could write more than during nap times and at all hours of the night (even though that is the best time to write!).
Jennifer Ziesemer, you are the best book critique ever! Thank you for pushing me to do this, and for encouraging me along the way. It’s been a crazy process and you have been there for me helping to figure out how this all works. I can honestly say I would have never gotten this far without you; you are the best my silent agent!
Mom, you are the best beta reader and proof reader ever! Yes, it was embarrassing to discuss some scenes, but you were a great sport!
I’m blessed to have such lovely beta readers, April Petroelje, Kady Gusky, Kristie Filipchuk and Shannon Fischer. Thank you for your sincere and honest input and opinion! Get ready for book two ladies, because it’s going to be a whirlwind!
Perfect Pear Creative, what can I say, you are absolutely amazing. I am so fortunate to have you design the cover. Thank you for bringing Conklin to life!.
To the most spectacular editor out there, Samantha Hondorp! Thanks for spending the time to help polish my book and make me look good!
Thank you to all of the other indie authors who helped me along the way! I appreciate every one of you taking the time to answer my emails and put up with my fan girl comments and questions!
To the many bloggers who took the time to read and check out Conklin’s Blueprints and post reviews and snippets on your page. With out you getting the word out about Tyler and Becca’s story, this would not have been possible.
Most importantly, thank you to YOU the readers! I hope Conklin’s Blueprints brings you joy, heartache, butterflies, sexiness, confidence, and most importantly the pitter patter your heart makes when falling in love. Sometimes we all need that warm feeling to take over and remind us what life is all about.
Prologue
I stood next to a heap of flowers on an end table, dreading to move my eyes past them. I knew there was no way to keep avoiding it. I looked at the picture frame next to the flowers that had a black and white photo from the 1950s of two people clearly in love. It made me smile. I slowly moved my eyes beyond the beautiful arrangement to only frown again as I saw him lying in the coffin, the only man that I ever had any respect for, my grandfather.
My heart sank.
His cheeks weren’t rosy and his mouth was in a straight line. His thin silver hair was combed to the side and a single rose was in the breast of his black suit pocket. This wasn’t my grandfather. My grandfather was full of life, always smiling with a heartfelt gleam in his eye. I didn’t know this man in the coffin.
I sighed heavily and looked over to my father. He was a man of medium height build with spiky brown hair. His eyes were bright blue. He stood with his hands crossed, probably thinking about the company. I loathed the man, but I had many reasons for that, some more than others.
The bastard probably wanted his father to die. He wanted the power of the company, the freedom to do whatever he wanted with it. He no longer wanted to hold the title of Robert Conklin Jr., not that it mattered because everyone called him RJ. I never understood my relationship with my father. He never wanted to be around us as children, yet he had to dictate our lives when it came to decision making.
My mother stood silently next to him, green eyes peering down at the floor. Her blond hair cascading down over her shoulders. She would miss Robert Senior as well, just as she had missed my gran, Eleanor. They were the best part of the man she married. She gave up a long time ago on my father. Sometimes it felt like she gave up on all of us. I could see part of her flask hanging out of her handbag. I shook my head; my mother, Mary Conklin, was a drunk. It was obvious to anyone who knew her. The only good thing was that she was a happy drunk. I think she drank so much just to deal RJ. I couldn’t blame her. Between me and my brothers, we had caught him cheating a number of times. RJ was a man of power and wouldn’t be caught dead in a divorce. He could easily charm anyone he wanted to, and women normally caved to his seduction. So she tried to make the best of her life; with all the money, she was doing pretty well. She knew her place, to look pretty and maintain a social status. She was his trophy wife, and he treated her exactly the opposite as my grandfather treated my gran. She was treated like a possession, not a lover.
My older brother, Nathan, was talking to a small group of business associates who came to pay their respect to the man who built the largest architecture and construction firm in the Midwest. Nathan was probably informing them how Conklin Architecture, Construction, and Design was going to make a monument in honor of Robert Conklin Sr. in front of the Grand Rapids and Chicago buildings. Nathan turned his head to look at me with a half-smile and sad blue eyes. I nodded back to him and then looked back at the lifeless man in the coffin. “Goodbye Papa; we had fun. Say hi to Gran for me.” I slowly turned with a sigh, not wanting to feel any emotion.
Then I saw her. One of the many reasons why I hated my father. She was gorgeous. In her early 40s, she had dark red curly hair and bright green eyes, eyes that narrowed into slits like a snake when she wanted something. I saw them often, and I knew what she wanted when she looked that way, especially when she directed that look towards me.
My face frosted over as I glared at her. I didn’t want to deal with her now. Or ever for that matter. I went into the hallway and leaned back against the wall. I closed my eyes a
nd huffed out a big breath of air.
“Tyler?” I felt a gentle hand on my elbow and looked down to see Margo’s green eyes staring at me with sincerity. She followed me out into the hallway. I guess I didn’t escape quickly enough.
“What the hell are you doing here, Margo? Did you fuck my grandfather too?” My tone was short and painfully quiet.
She ignored my blunt comment. “Don’t take that tone with me Tyler. I am here for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you and your grandfather were close,” she said sternly. She never tolerated my attitude.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I snapped, looking at my feet. She gently put her hand on my chin and pulled my face to look at her. “Do you want me to make you feel better?” Her green eyes went into those familiar slits. My breath hitched. What a whore. “Why? Did you pity fuck my dad already? I’m not in the mood to be your sloppy seconds this time,” I said gritting my teeth.
Her eyes narrowed even more, and she suddenly pushed me up against the wall, slamming her body into mine. I could feel her chest heaving through my blue dress shirt and silver tie. “No Tyler, I would only pity fuck you, not your jackass of a father.” I looked on either side of the hallway. No one was watching. I quickly lifted her and rushed into the coat closet across from us, slamming her into the wall. My breathing was ragged. I didn’t know why I was doing it, but it was the only situation I could control at the moment.
Margo looked at me with intense eyes and threw her mouth onto mine. It was so forceful and feral, but I didn’t want her lips on me; I only wanted one thing, and I couldn’t give a shit who it was from at that point. I took my hand and pushed her face back against the wall. “We don’t kiss… remember?” I breathed in her face. She tilted her head and started to undo my belt buckle. She willingly gave herself to me; this was not something she had ever done before. It was always for her pleasure first, then mine. But today I was going to use her as she had always used me.
I walked out of the closet straightening my tie. I saw Nathan standing in the main entry about 20 feet away. He was looking down as though heavy in thought. Then he saw me out of the corner of his eye. His shoulders shrugged, and his head cocked to the side with a slight frown. Margo came out of the closet behind me, and as if she could read my mind, she didn’t say anything. She just simply walked past me back into the funeral hall. Nathan noticed and sighed. I shook my head at him as if to say, I don’t need your opinion, not today, knowing he knew what I had just done with our old nanny.
I turned to walk out the back exit, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. I had already said goodbye to the only person who deserved it. Goodbye Papa, we had fun. Say hi to Gran for me.
Chapter 1
I sat in the large confines of first-class on an afternoon flight to the Gerald R. Ford International Airport, taxying around the runway. I was headed home to Grand Rapids, Michigan; where my new career as a junior architect for Conklin Architecture, Construction, and Design was located. I had finished my Master’s in Architecture from Florida State University about a year ago, but had just recently received my license and started applying for jobs. I wasn’t exactly ready to grow up after I graduated, and neither was my best friend Jamie. I was smiling down at my phone because Jamie had sent me a text.
Sitting next to any hotties? I can’t wait to join you in a week! -Jamie
Jamie Rae and I met freshman year of college, and we were instantly friends. We were suitemates in the dorms, and unfortunately her roommate turned out to be a little too studious for Jamie. Jamie liked to have a good time, being the perky, fun-loving caramel haired, brown eyed beauty she was. But unlike most people, she could handle school and partying. She rarely had to study and had more trouble making up her mind about what she wanted to do with her life. She constantly changed majors but finally decided on a traditional marketing degree.
Our sophomore year we decided to get an apartment with my roommate, Ashlynn. Ashlynn and I went way back. We were childhood friends. Our mothers were best friends, and since neither of them worked, we were always together, whether it was at the park, the beach, getting our nails done, or shopping for things we didn’t need. Our parents were both prominent leaders in Grand Rapids. My father owned most of the buildings downtown. Ashlynn’s father was the DA. We both were well off, but Ashlynn glorified this more than I did. I had a sense of pride and didn’t want people to know who my family was when they met me. I wanted people to like me for me, judge me for me, and see me for me, not for whom my family was. Ashlynn was the opposite. She used her name to get whatever she wanted. She could be extremely fake and dense, but at the same time I would take pity and stick up for her when people talked about her behind her back. She was my friend, regardless of how shallow she could be. I only tried to see the good in her. Jamie couldn’t stand her, and I would even try to convince Jamie that Ashlynn was really a good person… until she stabbed me in the back.
Connor Prince was every parent’s dream for their daughter to marry. He was studious and quiet; and would give his heart willingly. His hair was very short and blonde and always styled perfectly with gel. He had bright blue eyes and a smirk plastered on his face. He was tall, medium built, and had an angelic baby face. He was meticulous about his appearance. “You never know who you are going to run into,” he would constantly say.
We met in our History of Architecture class in my second year. I was running late and crept in, not realizing he was sitting in the seat next to me. We always sat in the same area and slowly got to know one another throughout the class. I never thought he would go for me. I had my own self-esteem issues and always thought guys saw me as friend material and that I was never pretty or skinny enough for any of them. But his appearance didn’t intimidate me as much once I got to know him. Eventually he asked me to study one night, and then the rest was history.
We were best friends, and he was my first love. I would have done everything for him. My parents loved him and would always talk about us getting married and having kids. He would give me his precious smirk and say, “Only if she says yes.” My parents devoured this. Jamie liked him, although she thought he was a bit boring sometimes and that I should find someone who could bring more passion to the game, but she knew I loved him. Everyone was ecstatic and thought we were a good match.
Everyone, - except for Ashlynn. She had a funny way of showing it too. She would make very subtle comments to me. “You don’t think he is just after you for your Dad’s money do you?” or “Wow, I guess I never thought you would be the type he would be into, lucky you,” and the most hurtful one was, “You better hit the gym to hold his interest.”
So I had 30 pounds I could lose, emphasis on had. I lost the weight after Ashlynn took him from right under my nose.
At the beginning of our final year in college, the air got weird between Connor and me. We didn’t talk as much, and we weren’t as intimate as we had used to be. I took it as he was finally starting to see me for how I saw me--an awkward duck that had stubborn hair and some baby fat. I was no size two, and Ashlynn constantly reminded me of it. Some nights I would cry about my insecurities. Connor would always tell me he loved me, but when he stopped focusing so much on my body during sex, it felt like it was being done just for his release.
Then the week before first semester finals I found out why he had felt so distant. I came home directly from my morning classes because my afternoon class had been cancelled due to the professor going out of town, which really sucked because we were going to review our semester’s studies for finals. I told Ashlynn about this the prior week because I was pissed the prof wouldn’t be providing a review for one of the most important classes of my degree. I remember her eyes widening and then her voice purring and saying, “You should just go to the library and study instead of class.” I hummed and hawed at her thought, but never said I was going to.
You know when you get that feeling that something just isn’t right? Well, that feeling made me walk right past the library and
to our apartment. And there they were, in my bed. I saw Ashlynn’s long blonde hair against her naked back with her head tipped back straddling someone. I recognized the tattoo on his ankle. It was Connor. I was speechless and couldn’t move. My feet felt like they were stuck in concrete. I just stared at my childhood friend riding my boyfriend, the man I was going to marry and have a family with. As Connor slowly sat up and went to kiss her neck, he opened his eyes and gasped, pushing Ashlynn to the side and stuttered my name, “Bec-Becca…” It almost sounded like a plea. Suddenly my legs were no longer in concrete but felt like they were in sand. I back peddled to the front door unable to move fast enough or take my wet eyes off of Connor. Ashlynn’s face slowly turned and a hint of a smile crept to her lips. Then I saw her fake shocked look that I knew too well. She wanted this to happen. She knew I would come home and find them. She always wanted Connor because I had him, and she always had to have what was mine.
I remember sinking to the old wood chips on the side of our apartment complex, not being able to breathe. Feeling my heart break was the worst pain I had ever felt, and I was sure that nothing would ever compete with its torture.
Jamie was furious. She wanted to throw Ashlynn’s things on the side of the road and change the locks. “Who the fuck does that bitch think she is? I told you she was never your friend, Becca! Friends don’t do that to each other! And in your bed, really? She needs to get the fuck out of our place!” She didn’t understand my somberness towards the situation. I had cried, been broken, and was finally given the explanation I had always thought: he was never going to love me because I wasn’t as pretty as Ashlynn, because I wasn’t as thin or as elegant as her.
Connor called me over and over, wanting to apologize and talk about it. I knew he felt bad and guilty, but I could never handle highly emotional situations. I couldn’t stand seeing the pain in people’s eyes; nor could I bear to show my own pain to them. When I finally felt strong enough, I answered my phone and told him to not worry about it; and that I understood we weren’t meant for each other. He was nervous and anxious and didn’t seem to believe me, but agreed we were done.
