Sweet Fate
Copyright © 2019 by Laurelin Paige
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Erica Russikoff
Proofing: Michele Ficht
Cover: Laurelin Paige
ISBN: 978-1-942835-52-3
Contents
Also by Laurelin Paige
Foreword
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
Epilogue
The Dirty Universe Continues…
Let’s stay in touch!
Also by Laurelin Paige
Acknowledgments and Author’s Note
About Laurelin Paige
Also by Laurelin Paige
Visit my website for a more detailed reading order.
* * *
The Dirty Universe
Dirty Filthy Rich Boys - READ FREE
Dirty Duet: Dirty Filthy Rich Men | Dirty Filthy Rich Love
Dirty Sexy Bastard - READ FREE
Dirty Games Duet: Dirty Sexy Player | Dirty Sexy Games
Dirty Sweet Duet: Sweet Liar | Sweet Fate
Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)
Dirty Wild Trilogy: Coming 2020
* * *
The Fixed Universe
Fixed Series: Fixed on You | Found in You | Forever with You | Hudson | Fixed Forever
Found Duet: Free Me | Find Me
Chandler (a spinoff novel)
Falling Under You (a spinoff novella)
Dirty Filthy Fix (a spinoff novella)
Slay Saga Slay One: Rivalry| Slay Two: Ruin | Slay Three: Revenge | Slay Four: Rising
* * *
First and Last
First Touch | Last Kiss
* * *
Spark - short, steamy sparks of romance
One More Time
Ryder Brothers Close
Want by Kayti McGee | More by JD Hawkins
* * *
Hollywood Heat
Sex Symbol | Star Struck
* * *
Written with Sierra Simone
Porn Star | Hot Cop
* * *
Written with Kayti McGee under the name Laurelin McGee
Miss Match | Love Struck | MisTaken | Holiday for Hire
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DID YOU KNOW…
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One
Dylan
I noticed her the minute she came outside.
She hadn’t been in the house when Aaron and I had arrived, almost half an hour earlier. We’d been greeted by Susan and Raymond Kincaid, Donovan’s parents, who had cordially shown us to the grounds behind the house where the rest of the guests were waiting. I’d scanned the crowd for her. There were many faces I recognized—mostly employees from Reach, the company I co-owned, but a few were people from the long-ago past when Donovan had been engaged to my stepdaughter. So many familiar acquaintances, but not her.
And she was the only one I cared to see.
I’d spent the next thirty minutes milling about, nursing a too-sweet glass of champagne while pretending to be interested in the small talk of associates and friends. Petty subjects received great attention—the weather, the stock exchange, the latest hit Broadway show, what designer the bride would wear.
I’d perked up when I’d heard that last one. Though I cared not a fig about couture, any mention of Sabrina was of interest. It would be in conjunction with her name that someone might address the whereabouts of her sister, the bride’s only family. She had to be here, hadn’t she? Would there be anything at all that would keep her away?
Perhaps it wouldn’t seem too obvious if I asked Weston. We’d all shared dinner the last time I’d been in the States, rode home in the same car. Surely it would be natural to inquire about that lovely girl...what was her name?
I’d considered the best way to broach the subject while Weston’s old assistant poked at him.
“Don’t talk to me, don’t even look at me without that little boy in your arms,” Roxie scolded her former boss in her husky Hungarian accent. “I barely got time to be in his life before you take him away.”
Weston had responded with a laugh. “He’s here, he’s here. Calm down. Elizabeth is showing him off to—”
I never did get to hear where Weston’s wife had absconded with Weston’s son because that’s when the woman I’d been waiting for arrived—all rosy-cheeked and glossed lips, her hair knotted loosely at the back of her neck, her eyes twinkling with excitement—and all sound rushed past me like white noise. My vision tunneled to only see her. Audrey Lind. The most beautiful woman in existence.
She was bustling out of the house, the skirt of her dress gathered in one hand so as not to trip. The red wine of her outfit matched the color on her lips and fit her like she’d been sewn into it. Her curves were accentuated with a twisted tie around the waistline and sheer material at her neckline. She must have been locked away inside getting ready all this time. She was a lone ruby in an array of plain stones. It was impossible to miss her presence.
I pinned my eyes to her, watching as she pushed past guests, making her way to the band. She whispered something to the guitar player, who then gave a signal to the singer. The current song was wrapped up, and Audrey stepped up to the microphone.
“Hello, everyone, if I could have your attention…” She waited for the rest of the crowd to catch up to me.
“That’s Sabrina’s sister, Aubrey,” Weston informed Roxie.
“Audrey,” I corrected without moving my gaze from the woman in question.
“Right. Audrey. Wasn’t that what I said?” It most certainly wasn’t what he’d said, but I refrained from arguing. “Real sweet girl.”
Sweet, yes. Girl? She was a woman in so many ways that mattered.
And a girl too, I supposed, in ways that mattered more.
With the guests, for the most part, quieted, Audrey continued with her address. “I’ve just gotten word from the driver that Donovan and Sabrina are about ten minutes away—seven minutes-ish now—and I wanted to tell you all what to expect from here.”
“Is there a plan in place for if she says no?” a male voice shouted from the audience.
I knew that voice—Nate Sinclair, another of the men who owned the advertising company with me, Donovan, and Weston. I cringed internally on Audrey’s behalf. My eyes left her briefly to find him in the crowd.
A tall brunette clapped her hand over Nate’s mouth. His girlfriend, Trish, I assumed. I had yet
to meet her. “Don’t listen to him!” she cried apologetically. “He thinks he’s funny.”
“Yes, ignore him, please!” Audrey exclaimed in horror, as I knew she would. “There is no way Sabrina won’t say yes, but that’s just bad luck to even think such a thing!”
Nate backed down. “Sorry, sorry. Tasteless joke.”
“It is unusual,” Roxie remarked critically at my side. “You think a surprise wedding is okay for the guests, but for the bride?”
I couldn’t agree more. Weddings, on the whole, were much ado about nothing. The biggest marketing ploy since the invention of Valentine’s Day, if anyone asked me. And I would know. Advertising was my job.
Today, though, I was less impatient with the jollification. Enduring the hoopla was scarcely a hardship when Audrey was the reward.
“As soon as they arrive,” she said, picking up where she’d left off. “Sabrina will be whisked to a private room to get ready, and guys, I’m telling you, she is seriously low maintenance. She’ll be prettied up in thirty minutes, forty minutes tops. We’ll have another announcement to gather everyone in their seats when it’s showtime. Until then, feel free to munch on hors d’oeuvre, drink champagne, and dance! Isn’t this day amazing?”
A burst of applause followed her speech. Conversations resumed and the band started up once again. Audrey casually made her way back to the house, stopping to greet people on the way. Nearby, a waiter opened a champagne bottle, popping off the cork with a loud crack. She jumped then fell into a fit of laughter as she clutched her hand to her heart.
God, she was enchanting. I couldn’t look away. She could light up an already brilliant day. She was incandescent. She absolutely glowed.
“... Dylan, for a toast.”
“Hm?” I’d missed the beginning of whatever it was that Weston had said, only tuning in at the sound of my name.
He clapped a hand on my back. “I was just saying we should go up and have a drink with Donovan when they get here.”
The only place I wanted to be was alone with Audrey.
But I wasn’t counting on having the opportunity, and I’d lost sight of her now, so I turned my full attention to my friend. “Sure. Let me find Aaron so I can tell him where I am.”
My son was exactly where I’d left him, curled up with his earbuds and his mobile in the shade on the side of the house. He was a shy thirteen—er, fourteen-year-old; he’d recently had a birthday. I hadn’t expected him to want to mingle. He’d only accompanied me, in fact, so that we could continue on to Hartford afterward to stay for a few days. I planned to take him to the Mark Twain House & Museum and the Harriet Beecher Stowe Center. Whether he appreciated it or not, I meant to culture the boy.
Of course I’d also had to agree I’d take him to a video game competition being held over the weekend, but I felt comfortable with the compromise.
I stooped down in front of Aaron. At the sight of me, he pulled a bud from one of his ears. “Is the wedding starting?”
“No, you have another half hour or so.”
He gave a fist-bumping motion and picked up the bud as if to return it to his ear, apparently done with the conversation, but I halted him.
“I might be MIA for a bit. I’m going to see if Donovan needs help getting ready. I’ll come and get you when it’s time.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said impatiently, his eyes already back on the screen of his phone.
Well, then. No need to worry about him.
I stood up again, just as another round of applause came from the crowd behind the house. Imagining that signalled Donovan and Sabrina’s arrival, I headed inside through the side door to meet up with Weston instead of returning to the backyard.
The Kincaid’s country home was large enough to be called an estate. I’d been there before, but not enough times and not recently enough to know my way around the place, especially coming in from an entrance I didn’t normally use. I ambled through the halls, my ears perked, listening for sounds to direct me to the lounge.
I was also conscientious of Audrey. If Sabrina was in the house now, her sister surely was as well. When I’d reached the front hall, I froze. Was that her giggle coming faintly from above? I looked up the stairs, hoping to catch her.
“There you are,” Nate said, making me jump. He grinned. “Sorry for startling you. I tracked down Donovan. Weston just stepped out to his car to get—”
Just then the front door opened and Weston walked in, carrying a box of Macallan.
“—the Scotch,” Nate finished. “And here we all are.”
“Shall we?” I asked, still half listening for the beautiful melody of Audrey’s laugh.
Nate nodded. “I’ll lead the way.”
A few minutes later, after swiping four tumblers and a corkscrew from Raymond Kincaid’s bar, we were gathered in a downstairs guest room with the groom. Donovan was already mostly dressed in black tuxedo bottoms and a crisp white dress shirt when we’d arrived. Now he was leaning against the windowsill, seemingly relaxed except for the constant twirl of his pocket watch.
A drink would do him well.
Weston handed him a tumbler and broke open the Scotch, then poured two fingers into his glass before turning to fill mine and Nate’s.
“A toast!” Weston exclaimed, raising his own drink when he’d finished serving the rest of us. “To Donovan—may all your days be filled with rich love.”
“Hear, hear,” Nate agreed, and everyone took a sip.
“Look at you—a proper best man,” I said to Weston. He was the only groomsman at all, actually, Donovan having figured it was too much of an ordeal to have more with the casual nature of the ceremony.
It was a reasonable decision, and an expected choice, though Weston wasn’t generally considered the most responsible of our bunch, and my tone hinted at the fact.
“Shut up. You didn’t even bother to come to my wedding,” he scoffed.
I shrugged, unwilling to feel any remorse for not attending. “It wasn’t a real wedding at the time.”
“It was always a real wedding,” he insisted. “It wasn’t a real marriage.”
“Both sound terrible.” This remark earned a short laugh from Nate.
Weston wasn’t amused. “You’re such a grouch. Is this really fair to Donovan on his big day?”
“Donovan knows who I am, and he still thought to invite me.” I looked to the man in question and felt validated when he nodded in agreement. “Nate isn’t big on these affairs either. Why aren’t you poking at him?”
“Because he came to my wedding.” Weston would never let that go, I was beginning to realize.
“Came at your wedding too, from what I heard,” Donovan said pointedly.
And now Weston’s attention was somewhere besides me. “Nate? Something you’d like to share?”
“Only that I heard the same about Donovan.” The two exchanged a look, some recognition of an inside joke that was apparently filthy in nature. “But I will say, to your point, Dylan—though it’s true I could take or leave the whole marriage tradition, it doesn’t mean I’m down on love all together.”
The comment was directed toward me, the last single man in the room.
“You’re really smitten with this girl you’re dating, aren’t you?” It wasn’t the comment I wanted to make, but I was being polite. For now.
“Trish?” Nate thought a moment. “I love her. I’m in love with her. I basically live with her. We’re as married as we’re ever going to get, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t solid.”
“Christ, you too? You’re daft as a brush, the whole lot of you.” Apparently, my civility had expired.
“You must be looking in the mirror, Locke.”
“Original, King.”
Weston ignored my retort. “You know who’s really the dickhole—Cade. He should be here. It’s bad enough that he’s gone on leave of absence for an eternity. It’s another to miss one of your only friend’s weddings.”
It wasn’t the first tim
e today I’d heard him griping about the fifth owner of Reach. “Why are you so cross with him? He came to your wedding.”
“Eh, not really.” He looked to Donovan, as though seeking permission.
Curious, I turned my attention to the groom as well.
Donovan grabbed his vest from the bed where it was draped and turned toward the mirror. “He was in town for other reasons. Attending Weston’s wedding was incidental.”
There was no doubt that Donovan was watching what he said. I didn’t mind people having their own secrets for the most part, but Cade’s disappearance from the business had been abrupt. He’d been gone now for almost seven months. It was beginning to be an elephant that no one wanted to address.
“What did he have to do in New York?” It wasn’t the day to pry, but I could certainly tiptoe around the subject. Cade rarely ever came to the States. He’d been managing the Tokyo office since Donovan had returned to New York, which meant, at present, there was only an acting manager running the place.
Donovan shrugged as he buttoned his vest.
“You don’t know or you’re not at liberty to discuss?” I pressed.
“Something like that.”
“Uh-huh. Then I’m guessing the reason for his extended leave is also something you aren’t at liberty to discuss.”
He shifted his eyes toward mine in the reflection and smiled slyly. “Something like that.”
Obviously this was going nowhere.