The Country Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 4

Home > Romance > The Country Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 4 > Page 23
The Country Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 4 Page 23

by Lucy McConnell


  If you liked this book…

  You may also enjoy Billionaire Marriage Brokers: Book 1—The Academic Bride. Keep reading for a sample of Janel’s story.

  The Academic Bride

  Chapter 1

  Janel’s multi-grain pancakes stuck in her throat and her heart sank as she read the text from her department head, Dr. Ford.

  Budget cuts went through. The trip is cancelled. Sorry. May have to cut your hours too.

  Janel let the phone clatter to the table. Stupid university funding issues.

  Once again, the Powers That Be had pulled funding from an academic program and pumped it into athletics, because “that’s what makes the alumni happy.” What she wouldn’t give to sit down with some of those highfaluting contributors and explain the importance of the archeology department.

  Drizzling more syrup on her pancakes, Janel heard the girl in the booth across the aisle crying quietly. She wasn’t the only one having a bad day.

  Janel glanced over. Two women talked in hushed tones. The older of the two was put together, like a thousand-piece puzzle in an old folks’ home. However, it was the younger woman who caught Janel’s envious attention: she had gorgeous black hair that hung so long it was pressed between her back and the booth’s leather seat.

  The older woman leaned across the booth. “I’ve dropped him as a client and I promise your next—”

  The younger woman cut her off. “I’m done.”

  “But you could do two, maybe three more contracts. Think of the money you’re throwing away.”

  Janel perked up. If someone was throwing away money, she’d love to take out the trash. A heap of cash could come in really handy right now. At this point, the only way to get to Guatemala and finish her degree was if she paid for the trip. Unfortunately, her checking account resembled a jack-o-lantern—full of holes and a wicked smile. She didn’t dare get her hopes up. The trip would cost more than she could ever make working part-time.

  There was a sigh. “It’s not about the money. My mom’s sick; I need to be with her. They don’t know if ... she might not ...”

  “Oh, darling, I didn’t know.”

  Janel took a sip of orange juice. No matter how hard I think life is, there’s always someone who’s got it worse.

  Finishing off her breakfast, Janel pushed her plate to the edge of the table. Her server, an adorable kid who looked like he belonged in a high school classroom instead of waiting tables on a Tuesday morning, smiled. “I’ll be right back with your check.”

  “Thanks.”

  He moved across the aisle to the women at the next booth. “Can I get you anything?”

  The older woman said, “I need a hot chocolate. Kiera?”

  The girl shook her lovely hair. “No, I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll be right out with that.”

  The boy hustled off, and the conversation between the women continued. Janel kept her head down and her ears tuned in.

  “I’m sorry, Pamela. I hate to leave you in a lurch.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find someone else. It takes a special person to do this work, but there are wonderful women out there who are looking for a career with these kinds of benefits. You just take care of your mom.”

  Janel threw back the last of her orange juice. This sounded like an opportunity. Even if she couldn’t pay for her dig, she could at least increase her income. As long as the job was flexible enough to work around her classes, she’d be happy to quit her job in the lab cataloging other people’s work and doing data entry for minimum wage.

  “Thanks.” The girl with the gorgeous locks gathered her jacket, one of those fitted ones in a flashy pattern that Janel always looked at but passed over because they only went with two outfits.

  After the two hugged goodbye, the blonde sank back down in her chair and rested her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. When her hot chocolate arrived, she gave the server a grateful look and stirred in the whipped cream as it melted.

  Janel took her check, figured an exact twenty-three percent tip—she didn’t have a dime to spare, but the server needed to make a living too—and left the fake leather book on the table. As she stood, the woman sighed again.

  Janel paused midstep, remembering. For the first three months of her senior year of high school, she’d watched the Wall of Fame fill up with pictures of the Students of the Month, secretly disappointed she never made the cut. One cold December day, she’d asked her math teacher how students were nominated. He’d told her the students get the form from the front office and ask a teacher to fill it out and turn it in. She’d stared at him, her mouth dragging across the floor. That was it? Come January, her picture was on the wall, and she never forgot the lesson: If you want something in life, you have to make it happen.

  She took off her glasses, cleaned the lenses on the hem of her T-shirt, and put them back on.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  She crossed over the center aisle. “Excuse me?”

  The woman looked up and smiled politely. Her lipstick, the perfect combination of gloss and color, had left a mark on the cocoa mug. Remarkably, she still had full color coverage. Effortlessly stunning in her tailored navy-blue suit and silk scarf, she carried herself with a sense of confidence Janel envied.

  “Yes?”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear that you’d just lost an employee. Might I enquire about the position?” Janel swallowed. Might I enquire? The phrase felt right when talking with a woman who looked like she was born in a power suit, but it sounded funny coming out of Janel’s mouth.

  The woman stood up and looked Janel in the eye, and Janel found herself straightening under the scrutiny. She held still, feeling like she was going through an MRI machine, exposed and x-rayed. Her skin tingled. She didn’t think anyone had looked at her that closely in a long time. It was a little unnerving, and yet she didn’t feel judged, just read.

  The woman smiled as she offered her hand. “I’m Pamela Jones.”

  “Janel.”

  Pamela gestured to the empty booth. “Have a seat. Are you dating anyone?”

  Janel sat, thinking of Alfred. Were they dating? Two dates in as many months didn’t constitute a relationship. “Not at the moment. Why?”

  “This job is not conducive to preexisting relationships.”

  “Oh, okay.” What did that mean?

  “Tell me about yourself,” said Pamela.

  “I’m working on my PhD in archeology. I teach two entry level classes and work as an aide to one of my professors.”

  “Are you local?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your five-year plan?”

  Janel tried not to blink too much or too fast; her mom always said it made her look like a fish. These were regular interview questions, but she hadn’t prepped for a job interview this morning. “I was scheduled to go on a dig in Guatemala, but the funding fell through. It was my thesis project, and now I’m going to have to scramble to come up with something else if I want to graduate in the spring.

  “After that, I want to teach in the archeology department and take sabbaticals to follow through on a few theories I have.”

  “Your parents must be very proud.”

  Janel lifted her shoulders. “That’s what they say.”

  Pamela reached over and patted her hand. “I have a good feeling about you.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “Stop by the office later on this afternoon for an orientation. If you’re still interested, we’ll talk.”

  Janel put the card in her coat pocket. She needed a good hour to polish her résumé and review some online tips for the interview. “I look forward to it.”

  As the ding over the front door announced her departure, Janel glanced over her shoulder at Pamela, who took her picture with her cell phone and waved gracefully.

  The whole thing had happened fast, and it was a bit bizarre. Janel wasn’t sure if it was legal to ask questions about an intervie
wee’s personal life, but she shrugged it off because it wasn’t exactly an interview.

  Having her picture taken bothered her though.

  Was she going to end up on some random web page? Pamela didn’t seem like the shady type, but there was this esoteric aura about her … Janel shook her head. There was no such thing as magic or mystics. Feeling the business card in her pocket, she decided to Google the company the minute she got home. She’d been either smart with a dash of bravery or really stupid to jump into a job she knew nothing about.

  Thanks for your interest in The Academic Bride. If you’d like to keep reading, click here.

  You may also be interested in Blue Christmas: A Snow Valley Christmas Romance.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first chapter of this rock and roll romance.

  Blue Christmas

  Chapter One

  “NOTHING SAYS CHRISTMAS LIKE freezing your tail off while waiting for someone to turn on the lights,” said Paisley, her breath puffing in the air. She stomped her heavy boots on the already compacted snow trying to get some feeling back in her toes.

  “C’mon. You know you wouldn’t have it any other way,” said her brother, Sawyer. He bent over the stroller to tuck the blanket in a little tighter around his baby girl.

  Paisley smiled down at her niece, Journey, wrapped in fluffy pink from head to toe and sleeping peacefully. Her adorable little nose was the same color as her pale pink blanket. The tiny vision had no idea they were about to kick off the Christmas season with a bang – literally.

  At eight o’clock on the dot, Snow Valley’s mayor would flip the switch to light up Main Street and the huge evergreen tree in the middle of town. Then Buster Write would set off his vintage WWI cannon two streets away, startling cattle all over the valley and scaring sheep dogs under front porches.

  “Do you think she’ll wake up?” asked Paisley.

  “Naw, if she can sleep through my drums, she can sleep through Buster’s Bang.”

  “The only reason she can sleep through your drums is because music runs in her veins,” said Amber as she squeezed through the crowd. She carried a cardboard cup holder with four steaming hot chocolates in one hand and had her four-year-old son, Peake, balanced on her left hip. As always, Amber looked every bit the rock star. Her clothes, from her high-heeled boots to her thick, fuzzy scarf, were edgy with just the right amount of class. If Paisley didn’t love her sister-in-law so much, she’d have to hate her for being so beautiful.

  Sawyer took his son in one arm and a hot chocolate cup with his other hand and stole a kiss from his wife that said he appreciated her look as well.

  Paisley made a face and Peake laughed.

  “Are we bugging you?” asked Sawyer.

  “Seriously, I think you two enjoy kissing in front of people.”

  “All the world’s a stage,” said Amber. She and Sawyer tapped their cups together and Paisley rolled her eyes.

  Amber distributed the cocoas, reminding Peake to wait for it to cool off. He blew into the hole in the lid, making an O with his lips. Amber pressed her hand to her heart as she melted at his adorableness. She asked Sawyer, “Do you think your mom and dad will come?”

  Sawyer shook his head. “Doubt it. Dad didn’t sound so good this morning.”

  Paisley looked around for her parents. Her dad threw out his back yesterday when he lifted the turkey from the oven. Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t ruined, but the day was one for the scrapbook. Dad ate standing up and mom pestered him to take a muscle relaxer and lay down.

  Paisley checked the time on her phone. Fifteen minutes to go. Anticipating the Christmas magic that sprang to life when the lights came on gave her the same thrill as waiting up for Santa had when she was a kid. In the winters, the sun went down long before 6:00 p.m. so the Parks and Rec. Agency set up fire barrels around the town square. Families gravitated together, then called out to friends and chatted as they waited for the official start of Snow Valley’s Christmas season.

  Breathing in the fresh pine scent coming from the twenty-foot tree, Paisley tipped her head back to see the stars. Everyone in town knew everybody else and sometimes the familiarity created problems, but tonight, under a blanket of winter stars and warmed by pine-fed fires, Yuletide goodwill permeated.

  Paisley checked her phone. Five minutes. If her parents were going to make it, they’d be here by now. She scanned the crowd to see if she could spot her mom’s bright blue parka – the one she’d had since Paisley was thirteen and was totally embarrassed that her mother would walk around in public in something so old-lady-ish. She did one last sweep and a movement caught her eye.

  One barrel over, a guy—a cute guy—in jeans and a designer coat, waved at her. Paisley’s heart stuttered and she ducked her head, tucking her dark mahogany hair behind one ear. The man’s blatant flirtation startled her. She took two quick breaths and dismissed the idea that he waved at her. She wore a thick coat and stocking hat. No way was she on her game tonight. He must have been trying to get someone else’s attention.

  She checked over her shoulder to see if anyone waved back, but the Petersons huddled close and stared at the small stage. Someone tapped the microphone and Paisley turned her attention to the front, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at being singled out.

  As Mayor Carl began a well-rehearsed speech on inviting the Spirit of Christmas to Snow Valley, Paisley let her eyes drift back to the stranger. He had to be just over six feet tall with wide shoulders. Dark hair peeked out from under his stocking hat and, heaven help her, curled up in the back. A hint of dark growth on his jaw gave him rugged appeal and Paisley wished she could see what color his eyes were. Please let them be brown.

  As if he heard her silent plea, he turned to answer by raising one eyebrow and producing a lazy grin with “come hither” written all over it. The firelight illuminated his face with a golden glow.

  Paisley jerked her attention back to the stage and sipped her cocoa to calm the butterflies in her stomach. They’re brown. Deep, dark, gorgeous brown.

  Dang.

  Dying to steal another look, Paisley forced herself to face forward, refusing to flirt with him. She didn’t know who he was, but she knew one thing, strangers never stayed in Snow Valley longer than it took to experience Christmas in the town that does Christmas best. After snowmobiling, a romantic ride on the Polar Express, and a few kisses in front of a roaring fire, they’d leave, taking your heart with them.

  Just as her resolve slipped away, the square lit up with Christmas joy and Paisley jerked at the cannon blast. Sawyer laughed at her, making some comment about jumping like a newbie. She smacked him in the arm, thankful to have something to focus on besides the man with the gorgeous eyes ... and smile ... and oh-my-gosh those curls. Paisley stomped her boots again, this time trying to jolt his brown eyes from her memory.

  As the crowd dispersed, Amber gathered their cups and took Peake to the nearest barrel to watch them burn. Someone called Sawyer’s name and both he and Paisley turned toward the voice. To Paisley’s horror, her handsome stranger headed right for them. She squatted down to check Journey’s blanket and hide the way her cheeks burned.

  “No way!” Sawyer grabbed the guy in a bear hug and pounded his back. “What are you doing here, man?”

  Obviously Sawyer knew this guy, which made Paisley even more embarrassed she’d thought he was flirting when he was just being neighborly. For the life of her, she could not put a name with the face. In a town this size, grouping people together as families was easy; but, this guy didn’t look like anyone she knew. Not that being a stranger was a bad thing, oh no, on him, individuality looked good. He probably thought she was a jerk for snubbing him. Well, she’d have to make up for her inhospitable behavior. Standing up, she put on her friendliest smile.

  “You remember my baby sister?” Sawyer said pointing at her.

  Thanks for the clue. She wracked her brain, sorting through her brother’s old friends, trying to put a name with the hot dis
h giving her his undivided attention. An old friend could be good—really good. Maybe he’d moved back to town after finishing school and would stay longer than Christmas. This had possibilities written all over it. Their eyes met once again and Paisley’s insides melted.

  “How could I forget our biggest fan?” He nudged her shoulder.

  Great, she was back to being “baby sister” material. Thanks a lot, Sawyer. She shot her brother a dirty look. So much for possibilities.

  “Clay?!” Amber shrieked and flung herself into the man’s arms.

  Clay. Clay? Paisley took a step back. “No way,” she said. Looking both ways to make sure no one had heard her. Paisley coughed into her mitten. She glared at Amber, wishing she didn’t feel so jealous of that hug.

  “You look positively transformed. What happened to the spikes and black lipstick?” asked Amber.

  Paisley wondered the same thing. The last time she’d seen Clay Jett he was a skinny seventeen-year-old with black spikes in his hair and a dog collar. The only member of her brother’s high school band to try and make a living with music, Clay headed west the day after graduation and hadn’t been seen since.

  The band didn’t hold his success against him. Although, there were times when Paisley wondered if Sawyer and Amber envied Clay’s gumption. Of course, they sang whenever they got the chance, the national anthem at the 4th of July picnic, Pastor John’s Easter sermon, and no funeral was complete without Amber’s rendition of Amazing Grace. But, once they had kids, their family came first. They made parenting look like so much fun, Paisley couldn’t wait to have kids of her own. Not that she was in a hurry. All things in God’s time, as Pastor John would say.

  Paisley had seen Clay’s dad in town, but never thought to ask about his son. She ran her eyes up and down Clay, taking in the changes that were aaaaaall good. Even in snow clothes he looked amazing. Who knew there was so much yum under the black eyeliner and hair dye?

 

‹ Prev