Table of Contents
Prologue
Part I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part II
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Part III
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Part IV
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Part V
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Part VI
Part I
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Part II
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part III
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Part VII
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Part VIII
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Part IX
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Epilogue
Part X
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Room Service
Summer Cooper
Contents
Personal Note
Prologue
1. Trent
2. Jessi
3. Trent
4. Jessi
5. Trent
6. Jessi
7. Trent
8. Jessi
9. Trent
10. Jessi
11. Trent
12. Jessi
13. Trent
14. Jessi
15. Trent
16. Jessi
17. Trent
18. Jessi
19. Trent
20. Jessi
21. Trent
22. Trent
23. Jessi
24. Trent
25. Jessi
26. Trent
House Keeping
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Summer Cooper
Also by Summer Cooper
Copyright © Lovy Books Ltd, 2018
Summer Cooper has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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Summer x
Personal Note
To my lovely readers,
Thank you for choosing to read my book. I really hope that I can bring you some joy with my words.
To extend your reading pleasure, I’ve included a few bonus short stories right after the main story.
Please refer to the Table Of Contents to see what to read next!
Summer Cooper
Discover the wild girl in you.
Prologue
Matthew Thompson sat in his private room in front of a roaring fire. It was just another day, and he was ending it in comfort.
He should have been a happy man, quietly enjoying the fruits of his labors. But how could he when his children had all but abandoned him? Well, his sons at least; his daughter sat on a couch a few feet away from him, her feet tucked neatly under the chair. She was too busy with her phone to notice him and had been since they’d sat down to eat dinner.
As the last of his children still living with him, she could at the very least have been keeping him company, he noted sourly. And he didn’t just mean her sitting there and doing her thing as he stared into the roaring fire, bored out of his mind. Why couldn’t people have conversations anymore? Why did people only want to talk through a screen now?
He flicked a glance at his own phone, screen down just at his fingertips. He was so bored he couldn’t even read.
He missed his children, the sound of laughter filling the air, the secret whispers as they plotted some mischief only children could get up to. He missed how when they were younger, they’d run up to him every time he came home, welcoming him with open arms. When was the last time that even happened?
Matthew was willing to settle for having them all in the same area.
After several more minutes passed and Emily didn’t so much as look up, he sighed and called out to his daughter.
“Emily?”
“Hmm?” Her slim fingers flew over her phone’s screen as she typed something out. She was the perfect blend of both him and his wife—a daughter a man could be proud of, if only she’d pay attention.
Matthew let out his heaviest sigh yet.
“Would you at least look up at your old man? I’m starting to feel a little jealous of your phone, here.”
Her fingers slowed as she glanced up, but they didn’t stop. He didn’t even feel like sighing anymore.
“Do you need something, Dad?”
He rolled his eyes. “What I need is for you to sit up, put your phone down for a minute, and listen to your father. What happened to you, Emily? You used to be Daddy’s little girl, and these days it’s like you rarely have time to talk to me.”
She flushed a little, her hands finally pausing on her phone. She looked down at it for a few seconds before turning off the screen and putting it to one side.
“All right,” she said, sitting upright, back straight, and hands placed demurely on her knees. “Although, Dad, it has been quite a few years since I was your ‘little girl,’ you know?” She arched a delicate eyebrow, bright eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief.
Matthew rolled his eyes. He could do that same eyebrow trick, his were just a bit grayer than hers.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk about?” At least she’d put the phone down now.
Matthew smiled, his tall frame and lined face so like his sons and his daughter. “I want you to help me plot how to get your brothers back here.”
Her hands twitched on her knees in surprise. She flipped some blonde strands of hair that had fallen over her shoulder and blinked at him. That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, but the one he’d counted on getting.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“I want my sons back, Emily. They might not have as much time for me, just like you, but can you even remember the last time they visited?”
She opened her mouth but paused because there was nothing she could say. It was true. The sons of the Thompson household hadn't been back for quite a while. During the holidays they tried to all meet up, but it wasn’t in their family home where they’d all grown up.
“Can you manage it, though?” she said after a minute, frowning. “I mean, they’re all busy doing who knows what wherever they are—”
“You don’t know where they are?”
She looked offended. “Dad. I could tell you where Trent is. But the other two tend to move around a lot, so you’re on your own there.”
Matthew nodded. It was all he needed. Trent would have to be the first he called home because he was the most stable, the most put together. He would be easier to invite, though for many reasons he would be the hardest to get to stick around.
“Fine,” he said, thumping his hand down on a knee. “Call him up. Give him whatever excuse, but I want to see him back here.”
Emily flinched. “Dad! I never said I’d help you! I don’t want any part of this scheme or whatever it is you’re cooking up!”
Matthew chuckled. “You mean what we are cooking up,” he corrected, ignoring her refusal. “Don’t you want to help your aging father? Don’t be so difficult, Emily. Help an old man out.”
It didn’t take much pleading to get her to cave. Even though she had grown, she was still his little girl in a lot of ways, and she loved to make her father happy. His daughter had always been such a warm, loving person, so as long as he hinted that he was unhappy, she would do something to change it.
He considered himself very lucky to have had her. She was the second most important woman in his heart after he’d lost his first wife.
“As much as I love traveling to meet up with your brothers, don’t you think it would be best they come here?” he needled. “Once they’re all home, I can just relax my old bones, and they would be the ones to come to me for a change. Please, Emily.”
Of course, Matthew wasn’t as old and tired as he was trying to make himself out to be. He was getting on in years, but he still considered himself young and spry. He wasn’t even in his sixties yet, and he was retired. But there was no reason to inform her of that just yet.
She was buying his ploy, and as much as a part of him felt bad that he was practically tricking his daughter, he was glad she was willing to help him out in this.
Matthew knew he would need it.
“Fine,” Emily said with a sigh like he’d known she would. “I’ll help. But if it doesn’t go the way you plan, you’ll be on your own, Dad.”
Matthew just smiled, looking forward to having all his children together with him again. Finally.
1
Trent
I walked into the office and heads turned in my wake. I didn’t care if it was my height or my expensive suit that caught people’s eyes, but I strutted across the room like I owned the place.
In a way, I did.
I walked over to the elevator and pressed the button to go up. A few people waited for one to come down to either of my sides, and I kept facing straight ahead as they turned to each other to mutter and gossip. I didn’t bother listening to what they said. It was all the same.
They loved to talk about how I was smart, sophisticated, and savvy. That part, I loved to hear. I was totally in control of my world and my father’s empire, and I didn’t mind that people envied me for that.
The rumors I hated were the ones about how my father must have helped me get to where I was. That I’d spent all my life riding on his name and his money, instead of building up my own life and career without much of Dad’s help. None of them knew the real me, or the life I’d endured to get where I am now. Still, no matter how much I hated hearing it, I never let those emotions show.
Be in control at all times.
That was the motto I’d set up for myself, and I’d followed it just fine over the years. So what if people talked shit behind my back? I was going to show them just what my effort brought me, and I was doing it my way.
The elevator doors finally opened and I walked inside. None of the other people waiting followed me in, and after a few seconds, the doors slid shut with only me inside.
Well.
Not that it was unexpected. I was the big boss around here, and most people naturally kept out of my way. None of that stopped them from gossiping about me, though.
As I was left alone, I swept my hand through my thick, blond hair and frowned to myself as I thought about cutting it short. It got in the way when it was long enough to fall over my forehead and tickle the nape of my neck. But I was too busy with work for even a quick trip to the high-priced salon I visited to have my hair cut.
The inside of the elevator was reflective, as though the walls were made of mirrors. I’d checked myself at home, but I didn’t mind checking again. Everything had to be perfect and in place. The shined black shoes, pressed dark slacks and matching jacket, the navy-blue shirt under it and the blue and black striped tie were all perfectly in place without even a stray thread to mar the picture of perfection. I’d styled my hair away from my forehead and I pushed it back just a little more. I held my briefcase at my side, a gold diamond watch on my wrist and a small ring on my pinkie finger. I kept my right hand free of accessories because it was my dominant arm.
The elevator stopped on my floor, and I shrugged my shoulders to readjust how the jacket had settled, even though I knew it was already perfect. I strode onto the floor, heading straight for my office. There were fewer people here, but I still caught their attention.
My PA was already at her desk and working, and I gave a small nod of approval. I’d given her instructions the day she started working for me, and one of them was that she always be there earlier than me in the morning and be ready for anything I needed her to do. She stood up as I walked over to her desk, lifting a cup of take-out coffee from her desk and holding it out to me.
“Thank you, Jennifer,” I said, accepting it.
I took a sip and almost sighed at the taste. I gave another small, near imperceptible nod of approval. Like she could see it, she beamed for a moment, then schooled her face to professional politeness.
“Please patch any important calls over to me,” I instructed. “If it’s not so important, please handle it yourself.”
It was going to be a busy day, and we both knew it.
“Yes, sir,” she said with a sharp nod.
I nodded back and walked over to my door, pushing it open with my shoulder. I moved over to my desk and set down the coffee and briefcase, then rounded it as I took off my coat. It was still a bit early, and the air hadn't quite warmed up yet, but I might as well be prepared early. I draped the coat over the back of my chair and sat down. I pulled some important documents out of my briefcase, then set it down to the side.
Finally, I took another sip of my coffee, cracked my fingers, and got down to work.
I had about twenty minutes to look over some papers; then the calls started coming in. My PA took care of some of them, but I still got the bulk of them, and I settled into the busy environment with ease, taking phone call after phone call and ending them with both sides satisfied.
It hadn't been easy starting out, but I’d made m
y fortune as a financial trader. Of course, there were plenty of people under the impression I got so many investors because of my father’s connections. Quite the contrary, I’d distanced myself as much as I possibly could from the Thompson family name. There was the occasional investor who called me up because they saw my name and connected it to my dad’s but as far as I cared, Thompson was just another name. Working with me didn’t mean they would get any perks out of my dad.
Not that he would give perks to anyone, even his sons. My old man was nothing if not a proper businessman.
Most of the morning was spent taking calls, and by the time it hit lunch I was starting to feel the strain. I’d got used to being busy and it barely phased me anymore. I’d learned early on that you didn’t get anywhere without hard work. I’d wanted to make a name for myself, with my time and my sweat, and I had.
My PA popped in with my lunch, and I barely gave her a grateful nod before going right back to work.
The calls were starting to grow less frequent in the afternoon. I caught some bites in between the calls, then tossed the remains of lunch into the trash can to my side behind the desk.
It was the usual, busy day. That was until my PA walked into my office, looking hesitant. I glanced up at her but finished the call I was on before giving her my full attention.
“Is there something wrong?” I asked, frowning. “Did you get a difficult client?”
She shook her head. “Um, not a client, sir. She says she’s your sister? She’s on another line for you.”
Room Service Page 1
