by Amy DeLuca
“And I cooked worms and dirt for you!” The exuberant announcement preceded the arrival of AJ, who ran into the foyer and slid across its shiny floor in his sock feet, blond curls flying.
“Be careful, buddy,” Cinda warned, but her voice held more amusement than sternness.
“You did?” Angelina dropped to her knees, accepting the hug AJ offered. It warmed her heart that her little student remembered the dessert they’d made at school last year on “slime day.”
“Slime day was my favoritest day of the whole year,” AJ informed her.
“I’m so glad.”
“You’re going to miss me when I’m in kindergarten next year,” he announced with confidence. “But we’re having a baby, and when he’s big enough for preschool you can teach him to make slime, and I’ll teach him to make worms and dirt.”
“Him or her,” Cinda said. “We haven’t announced if it’s a boy or a girl yet.”
“I know, but I want a brother.”
“I know you do, buddy.” His mother sifted a hand through her son’s silky hair. “But you’ll have fun teaching the baby no matter what the gender is.”
Seeing AJ’s frown, and sensing a change in subject was in order, Angelina interjected. “I will miss you. So much. But I know you’ll love kindergarten, and I can’t wait to celebrate your preschool graduation with you in a couple of weeks.”
“Where is my little prince?”
Cinda’s tall, handsome husband entered the foyer, sweeping his son up in his arms. “There you are. I thought we were going to play knights and dragons, but I went to the playroom and there wasn’t a single knight for me to gobble up.”
He pretended to bite AJ’s ear, making a silly gobbling noise.
“Daddy,” AJ shrieked and giggled. “You can’t be the dragon until I say, ‘ready, set, go.’”
“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting that rule.” Alexander Wessex gave Angelina a smile. “Hello. Thanks for coming and pitching in. We’d really like for our first family party here to be fun for all the kids. Cinda says you’re amazing with them.”
Angelina felt herself blush, her face growing warm at the compliment delivered in a cultured European accent so rich it made her feel like a peasant in comparison. “Well, I’m happy to help if I can.”
Alex grinned. “We menfolk have some serious sword-fighting to attend to now, so we’ll leave you to it. Save some worms and dirt for me, would you?”
Swinging AJ up onto his shoulders, he strode up the grand staircase as AJ turned and waved goodbye to Angelina. She followed Cinda through the elegant mansion, which was modeled after a European manor home. Reaching the bright, airy kitchen—so different from the dark, outdated one in her own historic house—she spotted the other women at the massive kitchen center island.
A vivacious woman with long, curling caramel hair and a slight New York accent turned and came toward her, extending both hands. “Angelina. Wow—you really do look like an angel. I’m Bonnie.”
Angelina shook her head in confusion. “An angel?”
Bonnie laughed. “AJ and I are big pals. He’s told me all about you, about your golden hair and your face that’s ‘pretty as an angel’—not to mention your amazing skills with glue, scissors, and glitter.”
Now Angelina joined in the laughter. “Those are high compliments. I feel like I should slip him some gummy bears or something.”
The other woman made her way over to say hello. A dark-haired beauty with a flawless fair complexion, Kristal Bianco—now Kristal Bestia—was as lovely as Angelina had ever seen her. They’d met several times before when she’d come to pick up AJ at the school.
“Hi Angelina, it’s good to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too. It’s so nice of you and Bonnie to help with the party.”
“I’m not sure how much help we’ll be—neither of us knows the first thing about kids. I’m here to learn—and to eat. Check out those pastries Bonnie brought.”
“I can’t take any credit. Monsieur Laplume is better than any chef I ever came across in New York.” To Angelina she explained, “I moved here from Manhattan when Jack and I got married—he and Kristal’s husband Hunter are brothers.”
“I’ve always wanted to see New York. I’ll bet living there was amazing,” Angelina said.
“It was interesting, that’s for sure. You’ve never been, even for the day? It’s so close to here.”
Angelina felt her face heat. “I know. I know it’s weird, but I’ve hardly ever left Rhode Island—only to go to the monastery in New Jersey.” At the shocked stares, she hastened to add, “I’d love to travel. I just haven’t had the chance.”
“Well, you’ve got to see New York City. Take the train down,” Bonnie suggested. “We have an apartment there we hardly ever use. You’re welcome to stay there. Feel free to bring some friends along or your family if you want to.”
“Why don’t we all fill our plates here at the counter and take them to the table so we can talk?” Cinda suggested, sparing Angelina from having to explain she didn’t really have friends and that Mother was her only family. “I’ve started a few lists for the party—food, games, decorations. But I haven’t gotten very far. I really want to hear your suggestions Angelina.” Turning to the others, she said, “She’s an absolute genius when it comes to preschool kids.”
Kristal rested a hand on her lower abdomen. “I’ll keep that in mind in about three or four years.”
Looking down, Angelina detected a small bump below the waistband of her pretty red shift dress.
Her eyes met Kristal’s again. “Oh… are you…” She let the question die on her lips. It was rude to ask someone if they were pregnant, especially when it was anything less than completely obvious.
Kristal didn’t seem the least bit offended. In fact, she confirmed Angelina’s suspicion with a wide grin. “Yes. We’re expecting. I’m due in November.”
“Congratulations. That’s wonderful. And your baby and Cinda’s will be so close in age.”
Cinda sidled up to her friend, sliding an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. “We couldn’t be more excited. They’ll be almost like cousins. Kristal’s the closest thing I’ve got to a real sister.” She smiled over at Bonnie. “That one, too. Tell Jack to apply himself a little more diligently in the baby-making department so we can add another little cousin to the mix.”
Bonnie barked a laugh. “I’m not sure he could be any more diligent. I’m not ready yet though. I want to focus on my work a bit longer.”
“What do you do?” Angelina asked.
“I’m a writer. I work remotely for the book section of the New York Daily Report, and I also write fiction. My first novel is coming out this year.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. Congratulations.”
Over the course of the evening, between planning food and entertainment for the party, Angelina learned Kristal was also quite accomplished. A renowned landscape photographer, she specialized in winter scenes, especially those in and around Newport. She also ran the Newport Art Preservation Guild, which her late mother had created to maintain and preserve public works of art.
Cinda had founded a home-cleaning agency, the Fairy Godmother Home Cleaning Service and until recently, when she’d stepped away to spend more time with her son and prepare for the arrival of the new baby, she’d run its day-to-day operations and even pitched in doing the physical work of cleaning when needed.
Next to these accomplished women, who weren’t that many years older than herself, Angelina felt positively infantile. However, they treated her with kindness and included her fully in the conversation all night long, seeming interested in everything she had to say and making her feel like part of the tight-knit group.
Was this what it would be like with her new “sisters” at the monastery? If so, maybe it wouldn’t be all bad. If only she wasn’t leaving to begin her postulancy so soon. If only she had more time to see and experience some of the things these bright, funny,
smart women talked about in their rambling, high-spirited conversation.
“So… my parents knew your mother in high school,” Kristal said, grabbing Angelina’s attention.
“They did?” Angelina knew very little about her mother’s life before she was born, when Caroline Rappaport was a pretty young socialite, mixing in Newport’s high society circles.
Old pictures displayed around the home told Angelina that had once been the case, but as long as she could remember, Mother had been a recluse, rarely leaving the grounds of their mansion, with only Angelina and a handyman/groundskeeper for human companionship.
Year after year, she wore the same dated and increasingly threadbare clothing she’d worn all of Angelina’s life and never spoke of any past relationships, not even friendships.
“Oh yes,” Kristal said. “And she and my mother lived on the same hall when they were both students at Salve Regina freshman year. They lost touch after that though.”
“What was she like? Did they say?” Angelina asked, eager to fill in at least a few of the missing puzzle pieces of her mother’s bizarre transformation from party girl to hermit.
Kristal didn’t answer immediately, seeming to weigh her words first. “They said she was very fun-loving… a bit wild. A great dancer.” She smiled. “She was the life of many a Newport mansion party. Everyone liked her.”
It was impossible to imagine Mother even attending a party, much less laughing and dancing. The wildest thing Angelina had ever seen her do was venture out in the rain to get one of her cats when it escaped.
“Speaking of parties,” Bonnie began. “Do you think Sullivan Reece will come to yours? Jack is dying to meet him.”
“Who’s Sullivan Reece?” Angelina asked.
Cinda answered. “He’s the reigning heavyweight boxing champion of the world. He bought the house on the other side of us about a year and a half ago, but he hasn’t spent much time in Newport until just recently. I’m hoping he’ll come and bring his two little girls.”
“I’m hoping he’ll come and bring his two big biceps,” Kristal said with a humorous smirk. “Not that Hunter isn’t stacked and jacked—I love his physique—but have you ever seen Sullivan Reece shirtless in the boxing ring?” She made her mouth into an O and fanned herself. “I bet that man could bench press my three-ton Mercedes G Wagon. With all of us in it.”
All the women laughed. All of them but Angelina.
She was too disconcerted by a sudden flashback to this afternoon when the massive black-haired jogger had removed his shirt… and stolen her breath. She hadn’t seen him on the Cliff Walk until just recently.
Was it possible there were two recent arrivals to the neighborhood, both of them possessing enormous muscles and a powerful allure to women of all ages and backgrounds?
Angelina developed a new and urgent hope that Mr. Sullivan Reece and his daughters would not be attending the party in two weeks. Because she suspected the wild streak Mother had apparently once possessed had not actually disappeared… but had been passed on to her.
And that it would be, as it had been for her mother, her downfall.
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Afterword
Thank you so much for reading the Newport Billionaires Box Set number One! I hope you loved the first three books in this exciting new series. If you did, please consider leaving a review on Amazon for the individual books or for the box set as a whole. If your fingers aren’t too tired, I always appreciate reviews on Goodreads, too.
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There are new books in the series and more to come so be sure to check them all out. They’re free in Kindle Unlimited.
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Also by AMY DELUCA
The Billionaire’s Black Book- A Beauty and the Beast story
The Billionaire’s White Lie - A Snow White Story
The Billionaire Blue Blood - A Cinderella Story
The Billionaire’s Heart of Gold-A Rapunzel Story
The Merry Billionaire- Hap’s story (A Newport Billionaires Christmas Novella-Newport Billionaires Book 5)
The Green-Eyed Billionaires Bodyguard- A Frog Prince story
The Sleepless Billionaire- Tuck’s story (A Newport Billionaires Novelette)- FREE when you join my mailing list!
Also by
Amy DeLuca writing as Amy Patrick
If you love stories of first love and forbidden love with a magical twist, check out the Hidden Saga! The completed series is now
Available in Kindle Unlimited…
Hidden Deep
Hidden Heart
Hidden Hope
The Sway (not in KU- free with newsletter signup)
Hidden Darkness (Dark Court, 1)
Hidden Danger (Dark Court, 2)
Hidden Desire (Dark Court, 3)
Hidden Game (Ancient Court, 1)
Hidden Magic (Ancient Court, 2)
Hidden Hero (Ancient Court, 3)
Hidden Heir
About the Author
Amy DeLuca grew up in Mississippi (with a few years in Texas thrown in for spicy flavor) and has lived in six states, including Rhode Island, where she now lives with her husband and two children.
She’s been a professional singer, a DJ, a voiceover artist, and always a storyteller, whether it was directing her younger siblings during hours of “pretend” or inventing characters and dialogue while getting ready for middle school every day.
For many years she was a writer of true crime, medical anomalies, and mayhem, working as a news anchor and health reporter for six different television stations. Then she retired to make up her own stories. Hers have a lot more kissing.
A note from Amy: I love to hear from my readers! Feel free to contact me on Twitter and my Facebook page (where I hang out the most and respond to every comment.) And be sure to sign up for my mailing list and be the first to hear the latest news about new releases, sales, giveaways, and more!