Excerpt Reveal
Find Me
Find Me
(Found Duet #2)
by
by
Laurelin Paige
 |
| Release Date: August 25, 2015 |
~ Synopsis ~
The Conclusion of Gwen and JC's Story
I came
to The Sky Launch to begin fresh, away from the horrors of my past. The
circumstances that brought me here were not the best, but I’ve become good
friends with Alayna and Hudson Pierce, and my family has healed in ways I never
thought they could. With them around me, I’ve never felt more at home. But
starting anew means letting go. And there are some things I don’t want to
leave behind – like JC, the man who taught me how to let loose. The man I wasn’t
supposed to love. The man I don’t want to lose. My life is safe now. The
threats from before have become less menacing, and I’m faced with a choice:
either move on completely or keep holding to the hope that JC loves me enough
to come and find me.
~ Chapter 1 ~
“Test today was
negative,” Laynie said as I walked in the office, not bothering with any
greeting. “I’m
never going to get pregnant, Gwen.”
I dropped my purse
on the couch and bit the inside of my cheek before I responded so that I didn’t laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. It was a
big fat minus sign. Which means negative. Not pregnant. No baby. Infertile.
Nothing’s
growing in this soil.”
I couldn’t
help myself—I laughed. “It’s been two months since you started
trying. That’s
not even long enough to let the Depo run out of your system yet, is it? Have
you even had a period?”
Alayna—Laynie—had
only gotten married in April to Hudson Pierce, one of the country’s richest men under thirty and the owner
of The Sky Launch, the club where we worked together as co-managers. I hadn’t heard a word about her wanting children
the whole time they’d
been engaged, but by the time she’d
come home from the honeymoon, she was in full family-planning mode. Technically
my boss, Laynie’s
most notable trait was her ability to focus intently on a project until it was
completed. In other words, she was a little obsessive.
It was actually a
great characteristic when it came to work. She always thought of everything,
never missing a detail. Her brain worked on overdrive, and while she liked to
talk incessantly about business, her passion and creative ideas made sure the
subject never grew old.
An obsessive
partner was good for me, really. Besides my family and friendship with Laynie,
work was all I had to fill my time. Well, pretty much all I had. And since she
and the other two important people in my life—my sister Norma and my brother
Ben—had significant others, I spent a lot of time focused on my job. It
definitely helped with the loneliness.
But now Laynie was
obsessed with having a baby.
God, I knew
nothing about babies. Or pregnancy. Or marriage. Or being so in love and
committed to a person that I wanted to procreate with him. Somehow the constant
talk about it made me feel more alone than ever. And she hadn’t even conceived yet. What the hell would
it feel like when she actually had another human to fixate on?
“I have not had a
period yet,” Laynie said as I crossed over to my desk, which was set at a
perpendicular angle to hers. “And that makes it even harder to guess when I’m supposed to test. But I had all the
symptoms of ovulation two weeks ago—the raised temperature, the change in
cervical fluid and firmness. That means I should have started today. But since
I didn’t, it’s possible I’m still pregnant and the
test just didn’t
say it yet—right?”
“You’re not really asking me that, are you?” I
slumped into my chair and logged into my computer as I spoke. “Because you know
I have zero knowledge about anything related to conception.”
“But I just told
you everything you need to know on the subject. I should be having a period. I’m not. Test says negative. Those
contradict. So I could be pregnant. Right?”
“Sounds like you
answered the question on your own.” I could sense she was about to protest, so
before she did, I added, “Hey. You’re
on your own with this. I can’t
give you any insight or opinion. Now if you want to talk about narrowing down
the selections for the new chef, I can say plenty.”
She opened her
mouth to say something then shut it. When she opened it again, she said, “I’m obsessing, aren’t I?”
I put my thumb and
forefinger up and indicated an inch. “Little bit.”
She groaned and
dropped her forehead to her desk.
“Aw. Don’t beat yourself up. I know it’s frustrating. You decided you wanted
something and now you can’t
see anything else.” Man, did I know how that felt. But I also knew that life
could go on through waiting. Even when the wait was indefinite.
At least she didn’t have to do the waiting alone.
I stopped myself
from saying that, afraid it would come out bitter, and it wasn’t her I was bitter at. “It’s going to take
time. Didn’t
the doctor say it might be a year before your reproductive system was reset?”
Her head still
down, she let out another muffled groan edged with an exaggerated sob.
“I’m not saying it will take that long. Just…be patient.” Easier said then done.
I knew that. “Meanwhile, keep trying. Have as much fun as you can being a
newlywed.”
She sat up
abruptly, her brown hair flying from the movement. “Oh, believe me, we’re trying. All. The. Time.” She waggled
her brows and her suddenly upbeat tone suggested she was next going to erupt
into a sordid tale from her insanely abundant sex life.
Her stories had
only recently begun to induce a streak of envy that blazed hot and fierce
inside me, but I refused to let her know. Once they brought to mind vivid
memories of my own—of the man I was waiting for, of the way he and I had been
whenever we were together. I’d
liked those memories. They’d
given me something to hold onto. Something to look forward to.
Now they only
reminded me of what I didn’t
have.
But I forced an
encouraging smile, preferring her spicy talk to her baby disappointment.
“Please, Laynie. Don’t
act as if you’re
doing it any more than you were when you weren’t trying. You two have sex
drives that are insatiable.”
She grinned. “It’s H. He can go forever. This morning, he
woke me up before five, and he still was only half dressed when his driver rang
the bell at a quarter to eight. The Pierce stamina…I tell you…”
“No, don’t. I can barely look at him with all
I know as it is.”
“I’m just saying I bet there’s a cousin or something we could fix you
up with.” She winked.
It was my turn to
groan. “Please, no.” As for Pierce stamina, I had a feeling it was more Hudson
stamina. I certainly hadn’t
found my own Pierce lover to be able to go very long. Though, perhaps that was
just because of their differences in age.
And that little
extracurricular arrangement was not one I was sharing with anyone, least of all
my coworker. It was embarrassing and wrong—on so many levels, not just
because of the years between he and me. I was sure Laynie and I were close
enough friends that she wouldn’t
judge or scold, but still. I felt guilty. As I should. I should feel every
rotten feeling from shame to disgust to remorse.
Laynie would tell
me I was being ridiculous. She’d
said before that I couldn’t
waste my life away waiting for someone who had obviously flat-out disappeared.
And maybe a part of me agreed. Maybe that was why I’d let that other Pierce work his way into
my life. Into my bed.
But I hadn’t let him anywhere near my heart, because
no matter how much time had passed, it belonged to someone else.
“Fine. No setting
you up with Hudson’s
family. As soon as you say the word, though, I’m fixing you up with someone. Just let me
know when you’re
ready.”
I chewed on my
bottom lip and gave her a tight, “Mmhmm,”
pretending to be distracted with what was on my screen. Thank goodness she
couldn’t view it from
where she sat or she’d
see that I was staring at the desktop. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to discuss the topic, necessarily.
I just didn’t
know what else to say to her. “Don’t bother, I’m hopeless,” would
only urge her to convince me otherwise. And I didn’t want convincing. Because as far as I was
concerned, I’d
never be ready.
“Well, whenever.”
I felt her staring
at me for a few seconds before I heard the clickety-click of her fingers on her
keyboard. She really was thoughtful to try like she did. It was just still difficult
for me to know how to deal with people who cared about me besides Norma and
Ben. People like Alayna and Hudson and Boyd—Norma’s boyfriend—and Eric, my brother’s fiancé. It hadn’t been that long since I’d been closed off to everyone, shut up
inside, unwilling to let go or let others in, and it was sometimes awkward to
respond to the attention. Which was silly, probably. It wasn’t like I’d turned into the captain of the cheerleading
squad in terms of social life or anything. But I’d definitely changed. And that took
getting used to.
Alayna wasn’t pushing, thankfully. That meant I was
off the hook, and I willed my attention to turn to work.
I let out a long
breath and opened up the shared folder on my computer labeled Restaurant. While
I was mainly in charge of operations and Laynie was in charge of marketing and
human resources, we found our best innovative ideas happened together. So even
though she primarily worked days and I worked nights, we made sure our hours
overlapped several times a week so that we could collaborate and touch base.
Friday nights we ran the club together. She wasn’t needed then—we had more than enough
qualified managers to cover all the shifts without her having to take a weekend
night—but she said it kept her in touch with what made the club thrive.
Frankly, I was surprised Hudson let her work when he wasn’t at the office. He was as controlling as
she was obsessive. Somehow the two made it work. Perfectly, even.
However they did
it, I was grateful that we had shifts together. Besides being a good friend,
she was an amazing businesswoman. She had worked at The Sky Launch for several
years, but she’d
only taken over as manager at about the same time I did. I’d been impressed from day one with her
plans for expansion of the nightclub, including her idea to highlight the club’s best feature—the private bubble rooms on
the second story that overlooked the dance floor below. We’d focused on bringing in more small
parties, partnering with various businesses around town and starting a citywide
promotion campaign through one of the best advertising firms in NYC.
Recently we’d moved our focus to her idea of having a
restaurant on the premises during the day hours. The last club I’d worked at, Eighty-Eighth Floor, had a
similar model of day-to-night presence that we’d tweaked to bring to The Sky Launch.
Presently, we were looking at chefs.
“Did you confirm
with Fuschia MacDonahough for tomorrow?” I asked, looking at our To-Do List.
For months, we’d
met every Thursday for dinner at the penthouse she had with Hudson. It was our
chance to hang out in a non-work setting, though for the last couple of weeks,
we’d added a bit of
the job to the routine by bringing in one of the chefs on our short list of
potential hires to prepare the meal so we could audition their cooking.
The recurring date
had strengthened our friendship. Norma, my sister, sometimes joined us, and
every now and then Ben and Eric as well. We’d become a family of sorts, pieces of
broken people coming together like a patchwork quilt. It was a night that I
looked forward to with as much intensity as I dreaded the loneliness of the
Wednesday night that preceded it.
“Yep. Then next week we’ve got Jordan Chase confirmed. After that
we’re going to have
to make a decision.”
Her brow wrinkled,
and I prayed she didn’t
go where I sensed she was going.
“Jordan Chase,”
she said again. “That could be what JC stands for.”
And there she’d gone.
JC.
“JC wasn’t
a cook.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” And the C likely stood for a middle
name, definitely not his last. Of the few things he’d told me, one had been his last name—Bruzzo. I’d
kept that information to myself like most of what he’d told me that final time I’d seen him.
“His name could
still be Jordan.” Good old Laynie. Obsessing again. “I kind of like that. It
has a nice ring.”
If I had the
strength, I’d
let her ramble on and not react.
But I had no
strength when it came to JC, and Alayna knew it.
I twisted my seat
toward her and glared.
She was staring
out into space though and missed my evil eye. “Gwen and Jordan. Jordan and
Gwen. I like that. Real catchy.” Finally, she looked at me. “What?”
“One minute you
want to fix me up with someone, the next you’re bringing up JC. Do you want me with him
or not?”
“I don’t want either. I mean, I want you
happy. And from what you’ve
said about this guy, I think he makes you happy. So I wish he would come the
fuck back from wherever he disappeared to and do that.”
Me
too.
I didn’t want to go down this road tonight. I
nodded and hoped she’d
take my cue when I swiveled back toward my screen.
She didn’t. “But if he’s not going to come back…”
“Then you think I
should move on. I know, I know.” She’d
told me enough times in enough ways for me to feel like I understood her
position on the matter.
She surprised me,
though, saying, “I’m
torn, Gwen. He sounds amazing. Perfect for you. And after everything Hudson and
I went through, I believe that love can overcome incredible obstacles.”
Nice sentiment. I
wanted to believe it too. “But our only obstacle is that he isn’t here.” Well, that and he’d gotten married to someone else in Vegas
while he was too drunk to know what he was doing. That was another thing I hadn’t told Alayna.
“Exactly. He has
to be here. And he’s
not. So you need to make a decision about how long you’re going to wait for him. How much of your
life is worth letting pass by while you wait for him to show up? What if he
never shows up?”
It was the
question I asked myself every day.
The answer was, I’d be lost. I was lost. Because of
him, I was open and looser and closer to happy than I’d been for most of my life. But the heart
of me—the part that believed in love and ever after and sweet kisses and
romance—that part of me was lost.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever completely found it. I’d glimpsed it, though. Seen pieces of
myself that had hinted it was inside me. If it really was there, I knew without
a doubt I wouldn’t
find it for real without him. Without JC.
But Alayna had a
point. How long could I wait before at least pretending to move on?
“I don’t know,” I said with raw sincerity.
Laynie was silent
for a moment, and I could hear the wheels in her head turning. “I get you,” she
said finally, “I do. I’ve wasted so much time on less promising
relationships than yours, and the ways I coped were far less healthy than you
simply taking yourself off the market. But Lauren, my favorite therapist, used
to say that sometimes we aren’t
even interested in the thing we’re
after anymore. We’ve
just gotten in the habit of focusing on it.”
Was that what JC
had become for me? Merely a habit?
I didn’t want to think that was all he was. But
if he’d taught me
anything, it was that living in the past was not living at all.
I’d never struggled with addiction, yet now
I felt like I had a smidgeon of an idea of what it must have been like for
Alayna when she’d
had to face her obsessive tendencies over men. How hard it must have been to
finally try to “quit.”
It was why my father had never been able to put down the bottle and why he’d turned to heroin—because it was that
hard to give up the thing that you lived for.
In the same way,
it was nearly impossible for me to think about giving up JC, even when he’d only become a memory.
And with that
clarity, I realized that was exactly what I had to do—give him up. Because I
didn’t want to be
anything like my father.
Laynie was right.
I had to check in to JC Anonymous. I had to quit. Tentatively I asked, “What
would this Dr. Lauren of yours say is the way to stop?”
“Well.” She was just as tentative in her
answer, all too aware of the difficulty it took for me to even think about “quitting.” “She’d suggest setting a date. A date that you
plan to quit waiting, or in my case, obsessing, and then on that date, you
stop. Like a job. Hand in your notice today and know that this is all the time
you have left before you move on.”
“So I should pick
a date to be over JC? That sounds a little simplistic, doesn’t it?”
“It does. But it
works.” She thought for a second then corrected herself. “Or it helps anyway.
Nothing really works except not giving up.”
I twisted my lips,
considering what she’d
said. It would be easy to apply her words to reasons to not quit JC. If
I truly believed we could be together then I shouldn’t give up.
But it had been
almost a year since he’d
left me. Almost twelve months since he’d
told me that he was the key witness in a murder. That he had to go into
protection until the trial. I had no way of knowing when the trial would end,
and when it did, he was the one who had to find me. Which could prove difficult
since I’d
left every part of my old life in my own need for protection. In my case,
protection from my father.
I had faith that
he could find me. But would he look? Because, yes, I still had feelings for
him, but really, when I thought about it logically, it was ridiculous that I
did. Because in the seven months I’d
known him before he left, our relationship really only added up to a total of two
weeks time together. Ninety-five percent of that had been just sex. So what was
it I was actually waiting around for? A man who had openly loved me for the
space of…what? A day and a half? That and good sex. Amazingly good sex.
It wasn’t enough to justify being stuck for so
long.
And if he actually
did love me like he’d
said he did, I had a feeling he’d
say the same thing.
There was only one
smart thing to do.
I looked down at
the keyboard where my fingers were absentmindedly tapping over and over on the
same two letters—J and C.
No. I couldn’t live like this forever.
I pulled my hands
into my lap and sat back in my chair. “The Fourth.”
I’d been silent long enough that Laynie took
a moment to register my meaning. “Of July?”
I swallowed.
“Yeah. Independence Day. Sounds like a good day to let someone go.”
She nodded, her
expression somber, her eyes both compassionate and hopeful. “It sounds
perfect,” she said. “A total celebration. We’re all going to be on Hudson’s boat for the night. We’ll watch the fireworks and everyone will
think they’re
going off for this big patriotic holiday thing, and only we will know they’re really just for you.”
The year before, I’d spent the holiday watching the fireworks
alone, missing JC with every fiber of my being. Yet somehow this year’s celebration sounded even lonelier.
“Perfect,” I said.
I’d expected to feel
a weight lifted from me, but instead, it felt almost suffocating to commit to
this new plan. Felt like something inside of me was tightening and
constricting, making it hard to breathe. Like my lungs were full of sand and my
heart that had once been open was starting to close.
See where it all began......
Free Me
(Found Duet #1)
(Found Duet #1)
~
Synopsis ~
I wasn’t supposed to be
working the night I met JC.
Before
him, I’d been content with the daily grind, managing one of NYC’s top
nightclubs. So what if my life didn’t have a happily ever after? I didn’t
believe in that anyway.
Then
JC showed up.
Sexy,
rich and smooth-talking, JC is nothing more than a distraction. I’m not
interested in a night-in-shining latex so it’s easy to push the playboy away.
Or it is until my life spins unexpectedly out-of-control. Then he’s there for
me, offering a new method of survival, one based on following primal urges and
desires that requires me to abandon my constant need for control.
His no-strings-attached lessons obliterate my carefully built walls. And
as I discover freedom, I start to feel things for him that I shouldn’t. Things
that make me fear for my newly vulnerable heart. Because JC has secrets of his
own, and his secrets don’t want to set him free.
BOOK ONE OF TWO. This series
can be read alone or with the Fixed Trilogy.
~ Links to Buy ~
Currently
On Sale for $0.99
~ About the Author ~
Laurelin Paige is the NY
Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for
a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the
embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn't seem to complain,
however. When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's probably
singing, watching Mad Men and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Adam Levine.
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