Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1)

by Fabiola Francisco

  Contents

  Copyright

  Also by Fabiola Francisco

  Social Media

  Dedication

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Chapter 30

  31. Chapter 31

  32. Chapter 32

  33. Chapter 33

  34. Chapter 34

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2021 by Fabiola Francisco

  Publication Date: September 1, 2021

  Not So Charming

  All rights reserved

  Cover design by Amy Queau, Q Designs

  Cover photo by Deposit Photo

  Editing by Rebecca Kettner, The Polished Author

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and contains material protected under the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Also by Fabiola Francisco

  Standalones

  Because of You

  The Right Kind of Wrong

  Perfectly Imperfect

  Red Lights, Black Hearts

  Twisted in You

  All My Truths & One Lie

  Carlisle Cellars Series

  Not So Charming

  Homecoming Queen

  Small Town King

  Mason Creek Novels

  Perfect Mess

  Love in Everton Series

  Write You a Love Song

  Roping Your Heart

  Pretend You’re Mine

  Make You Mine

  You Make It Easy

  Then I Met You

  My Way to You

  Rebel Desire Series

  Lovin’ on You

  Love You Through It

  All of You

  Memories of Us

  Promise You

  Rebel Desire Box Set

  Restoring Series

  Restoring Us

  Resisting You (Aiden and Stacy Novella)

  Sweet on You Series

  Sweet on Wilde

  Whiskey Nights

  Social Media

  Instagram

  Facebook

  Facebook Reader Group

  TikTok

  Twitter

  Goodreads

  Website

  BookBub

  Newsletter

  For the bookworms who rather have their noses in a book. Fictional worlds make the best escapes and characters make the best company.

  Chapter 1

  June

  I drop my bags with a loud thud and stare at the modest home I grew up in. The yellow paint has seen better days, but it’s nothing some cleaning can’t fix. Maybe I’ll clean it with an old toothbrush, so it takes forever, and I have an excuse to stay home and not face anyone. If anything, it’ll serve as a distraction. The plants lining the ground in front of the exterior walls need watering—or replacing completely. The small porch is bare, and I make a mental note to buy a chair to put out there. Buy… Maybe I’ll wait a bit before I buy anything so I can secure some kind of job.

  With a deep breath, I grab my bags and walk up the short steps until I’m face to face with the door that will change the course of my life. Not that I was on a winning race toward success or accomplishing anything important. Regardless, I never thought I’d be moving back to Willow Creek, my hometown I worked so hard to leave behind.

  With a quick knock, I open the door and inhale the scent of my childhood, of home. Despite hating growing up in this town, this will always be home. Instantly, I’m hit with a wave of emotions, and I swallow back my tears.

  “You’re here!” My mom’s quick steps meet me at the door. I nod, smiling, holding back my tears.

  “Come ‘ere, darling.” She envelops me in her arms, and I let my bags fall to the floor as I return the hug. My mom’s soothing hand rubs my back like she used to do when I was a small child. She always knew when I needed extra comfort or love. The older I got, the more I needed her calming strokes. Stepping back, I smile at my mom and squeeze her hands.

  “Welcome home,” her soft voice soothes me. Her smile is full of joy, eyes crinkling in the corners. Her straight hair—a contrast to my wild, frizzy curls—is pushed back into a messy bun, and she’s in loungewear.

  “Thanks, Momma.” I pick up my bags and say, “I’m gonna drop these off in my room.”

  After she nods, I walk through the short hallway and open my bedroom door. Although I left Willow Creek when I graduated high school, I’ve visited my mom here and there when I could. I never felt a need to change my room from my teen years, but as I look around, I think it needs a makeover if I’m going to stay here for an indefinite amount of time.

  I sit on my bed and stare at the bookshelf full of my favorite books growing up. These stories kept me entertained and offered an escape when real life sucked donkey balls, which was often. Living in a small town may be nice for most, but it’s hard to escape when there’s nowhere to go.

  Ready to face my mom, I sigh and head to the kitchen where I’m sure she’s cooking up a storm. The aroma of fresh cornbread hits me immediately, and my mouth waters. I’ve missed my mom’s cooking. As much as I can follow her recipes to a T, it’s never the same.

  “How was your trip? I would’ve picked you up at the airport instead of you paying for a cab.” She leans forward on the other side of the counter and eyes me carefully.

  I settle on a stool at the peninsula counter and tap my nails over the Formica top. “It was good,” I shrug. “I didn’t want you going out of your way.” We argued about this over the phone before I traveled. Eventually, I won the argument.

  “You didn’t bring many bags for having moved halfway across the country.” She arches her full eyebrows expectantly. She
probably thinks I’m going to bolt out of this town as soon as I get a chance despite telling her I was staying for a bit. At least until I figure out where I want to go and have enough money to move.

  “I packed the most important things and left the rest. I didn’t need the furniture, so I left it in the apartment so they can rent the room furnished. Jessica and Lainey kept some things, and I donated the rest.” It was hard to say bye to my roommates, who, through the last few years, became friends. It was the closest I had to true girl gang friendship.

  Living in Los Angeles doesn’t exactly allow for genuine relationships, but it was better than Willow Creek’s fake smiles and masked “Bless your heart” sentiments that mean anything but sincere well-wishes. Every Texan knows that.

  I’m used to loneliness, and living in a big city like Los Angeles at least excused the hole I felt since no one knows their neighbor in a city, unlike in a small town—a blessing and a curse.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I realize the time with the confusion of time difference.

  “I asked Mr. Carlisle for the day off so I could spend it with you.” My mom smiles wide.

  “You didn’t have to, Momma.” I shake my head, not wanting to be the reason she misses a day of work.

  “I wanted to, June.” She gives me a pointed look that says to drop it, but I ignore her warning.

  “I’m staying here now. There’s no reason to lose a day of work.” And losing a day in your paycheck, but I don’t add that. I know better.

  “I have personal days, you know. I used one. It’s not like I ever use them, and you’re worth it.”

  I slouch in my seat and nod. “Thanks. Need help?” I jut my chin toward the variety of food she has laying out on the counter.

  “Here, peel the potatoes.” She pushes forward a basket with potatoes and the peeler. I get to work, catching up with my mom.

  She tells me how work is over at the Carlisle Estate, the most popular and affluent family in Willow Creek. My mom has worked as their housekeeper for as long as I can remember.

  And I’ve always been the help’s daughter.

  I shake that thought away and focus on cutting the potatoes into big chunks so we can roast them in the oven.

  The truth is that Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle have been great to my mom and me. She was all I had—and still have—since my dad decided not to stick around when my mom told him she was pregnant. She told me he was always a wanderer, and she knew he wouldn’t stay. She’d excuse his actions saying it wasn’t in his blood to stay. He was meant to be elsewhere, and we were meant to stay here while my mom worked like a dog so I could have clothes on my back and food on the table.

  The same can’t be said about their children. Actually, that’s not true. Madison Carlisle was nice enough, though we weren’t friends. At least she was cordial and didn’t give in to the teasing that happened around school. She was also always focused on making a career out of her singing, which she accomplished. Now, her twin brother, Miles, was a different story. Popular, jock, douche. He was the center of attention growing up, and he always stood along with the crowd that loved making fun of me. I couldn’t stand him. I still hold that resentment.

  Growing up, I was always the nerdy girl with glasses and frizzy hair. No one cared to know me; I simply didn’t fit their idea of friendship. It was lonely growing up.

  The Carlisles are royalty in Willow Creek and are treated as such. They could shift the direction and history in our small town, but Miles chose to stick with the mean crowd. We weren’t friends, but when I was little, I spent a few summers with my mom at their estate while she worked. They’d invite me to swim in the pool with them, and I naïvely assumed that meant he’d defend me when others started mocking me.

  But I’m no longer that naïve girl—and hair straighteners are my best friend to calm the frizz.

  “June girl?” My mom’s voice breaks up my thoughts, and I meet her raised eyebrows.

  “Sorry, what?” I shake my head and plaster on a smile.

  Whatever she was saying is forgotten as she smiles sadly and reaches for my hand. “I know being back here is hard for you, living with your mom. You always thought your life would go in a different direction, but I believe everything happens as it needs to. This is just another step to you living that amazing life you’ve always dreamed of.” She squeezes my hand.

  Her words weigh down on me. I did expect my life to work out differently than it has. I blink back tears and nod. “Thanks, Momma.”

  “Don’t thank me, sweetheart. I’m your mom. I’ll always take care of you.” This time there’s no holding back the tears. They roll down my cheeks silently, and I wipe them away with my hands before taking a deep breath and standing.

  “I’ll be back.”

  My mom nods, giving me the space I so desperately need. Stepping out into the small yard, I look around with each breath I take. It’s nothing spectacular, but just being outside in the cool breeze is enough to re-center me. I learned a lot about myself while living in Los Angeles. Returning home, whether temporary or permanent, won’t be my demise. I’m older and stronger than the girl who left this town in search of paradise. What I’ve learned is that my paradise is inside me. However, I’m still human, and being back here drowns me with the hurt and loneliness I felt as a young girl and teenager trying to find her place in the world.

  After a few deep breaths, I head back inside and prepare dinner with my mom. After the long trip, I’m ready for a hot shower and to crash on my bed, twin size and all. My mind has been consumed with what I’m going to do with my life, and it’s been stressful. I’ve been living a month of uncertainty, searching for jobs, and getting more than my share of rejections. The few job offers I got were barely minimum wage, like waiting tables at an odd diner, or a store clerk that made just enough to pay my share of the rent.

  When I lost my job as an administrative assistant to some exec suit, I gave myself a month’s time to find something else that would pay the same or more. I didn’t have much more than a month’s worth of savings, and I didn’t want to risk losing that money and still leaving. That month came and went, and I was faced with the choice of coming back home.

  Now, I have no freaking clue what I’m going to do with my life or where I’m going to begin looking for a job. And if I find one here in Willow Creek, does that mean I’m setting down roots here? I’m not sure how I’ll be received here. If people still remember me as the nerd they picked on, or if they’ve moved on with their lives and I’m the only one holding a grudge.

  God, I need to relax. I can’t live like this.

  Tomorrow while my mom’s at work, I’ll drive around town and get reacquainted. Although I’ve visited since living in LA, I’d stay at home and not show my face much. The trips were usually a few days, and I stayed at home with my mom spending quality time.

  Things are different now, and I need to put on my big girl panties and embrace my hometown—jagged edges and all.

  Chapter 2

  June

  Last night, when I was determined to embrace this town, I wasn’t expecting my first run-in to be with someone I went to high school with. She was a mean girl, and unfortunately for my confidence, she’s prettier than her teen version, and her daughter is gorgeous. She eyed me up and down with disdain and the worst part? I don’t think she even realized who I was. Her judgment was based on nothing more than not being familiar with the woman she crossed at the coffee shop.

  I regressed to the insecure teenager that hid in corners, nose stuck in a book, hoping no one would see me. Instead of taking in the cute coffee shop, I grabbed my cup of joe to go and hightailed it to my car, where I now sit.

  It’s not the solution, but it’s my instinct. I know better than to let a little judgment affect me. I’ve grown from that, learned to be myself. Taking a cleansing breath in my car, I look around through the windows. The town hasn’t changed much, but I notice new stores here and there that I’m unfamiliar with. One i
s a boutique. I see a bakery. Then, I smile as the old bookstore I used to frequent comes into view—my oasis.

  With a fresh wave of calm, I grab my coffee cup and step out of my car. I head straight to The Book Nook. As soon as I step in, I feel like I’m fifteen again, using my allowance to buy as many books as possible. I inhale the familiar scent of cinnamon combined with paper and a hint of dust that is impossible to remove from books, no matter how hard you try to wipe them down.

  “Hi, how can I—” Mrs. Collins halts, and a surprised smile fills her face. “Is that you, June?” She walks up to me.

  “Hi, yes, it’s me. It’s so good to see you again. How are you?” I nod, smiling in return. Mrs. Collins always let me wander her store for hours, never rushing me to make a purchase. We’d talk about books, our favorite characters, villains we loved to hate. Most of my happy memories are on these shelves and inside these walls.

  “It’s so great to see you. Are you visiting your mom?” Her smile is bright and genuine.

  “Um…not really. I actually moved back.” I cringe.

  Mrs. Collins gasps with wide eyes, not giving my reaction much importance. “That’s wonderful!” I shrug. “I know you weren’t always happy living here, but I am so happy that you’re back. I think you’ll have a different experience now.”

  “I hope so.” I offer a tight-lipped smile, forgetting about the way I felt back at the coffee shop. New chapter, new June. It’s been seven years since I moved away, surely everyone else has matured the same way I have.

  “You’ll see.” She pats my arms. “Go ahead and look around. If you need anything, you know where I am.” Her smile shines with kindness.

  I do exactly that, getting lost in the aisles of shelves as unlimited worlds await me. All I have to do is choose one, and I can escape into a magical world full of romance, happy endings, and great casts of characters I wish were real.