Dandelion Dreams (Fleurs d'Amour Novella Book 2)

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Dandelion Dreams (Fleurs d'Amour Novella Book 2) Page 1

by Amali Rose




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Titles By Amali Rose:

  Follow Amali Rose:

  Dandelion Dreams

  Amali Rose

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © Amali Rose 2018

  Dandelion Dreams

  Editing: Stacey Broadbent & Petrina Jenkins - Spell Bound

  Formatting: Kylie Sharp - Indigo Assisting

  Cover Art by: Judi Perkins - Concierge Literary Designs & Photography

  Cover Photo: Shutterstock

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use the material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning:

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI, and is punishable by up to five years in prison, and a fine of $250,000.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:1985251299

  ISBN-13: 978-1985251298

  Dedication

  This book is for Kerry.

  Because you fight. Because you are determined. Because you have an amazing heart.

  You are one of the strongest people I know.

  I want to be you when I grow up.

  “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.”

  Ernest Hemingway.

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Titles By Amali Rose:

  Follow Amali Rose:

  Nine Years Ago

  My phone buzzes in my hand and I roll my eyes, laughing when I see Aidan’s name on the screen. I knew he wouldn’t make it through the night without calling me. Such a loser.

  My loser, though.

  Answering the phone with my patented Aidan greeting, “Whaddup, Boner.” I hear Aidan Bonefield sigh in exasperation.

  “Christ, CJ, I have to deal with that shit all the time, shouldn’t my girlfriend cut me some slack?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Boner? It’s my obligation as your girlfriend to torment you with this as much as possible! Now what do you want? My girls and I are about to go get our slut on. Skye’s giving me the stink eye as we speak.”

  I cover the receiver and glare right back at my best friend, Skye.

  “Calm your juicy tits, Skyeballs, give me five minutes to deal with my Boner!” I return to my conversation with Aidan.

  “CJ, what the hell do you mean ‘get your slut on’?” Aidan bites out.

  “Jesus, Boner, relax, it’s just an expression. What do you want anyway? You’re supposed to be off getting alcohol poisoning with your idiot friends.”

  I hear him laugh, and I swear if I had a heart, it would skip a beat. That velvety chuckle is my undoing and has me dropping my panties more often than is probably appropriate.

  “Have you been up to your room since I left?”

  “Nope, I got dressed in Devon’s room so I could steal her clothes. Why?”

  “I left something for you.”

  I can practically feel my eyes light up. There’s nothing I like better than a surprise. Well, I mean, except orgasms, but then who doesn’t love a good orgasm?

  Making my way up the stairs to my room on the second floor of the dorm, I hear the muffled sounds of Aidan’s loser friends in the background, and try to control my irritation. How he puts up with them I have no clue.

  “Where are you guys?”

  “In the car, heading to Smiley’s. Jackson’s our DD tonight and the asswipe won’t stop bitching about it.”

  I snort out a laugh as I reach my door. Jackson is the biggest douchedick around, so I find his misery highly enjoyable. Opening the door to my room I make my way inside when I hear a loud screech followed by a variety of expletives.

  “Aidan? Aidan, what happened? Are you there?” I bark out the words and the anxiety in my voice is clear.

  “You dickwad! Be fucking careful, asshole. Fuck! You know the roads are icy, you prick.”

  My heart rate returns to normal as I hear Aidan’s strong voice cursing out someone, presumably Jackson.

  “You okay there, Boner?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Okay, well, tell Jackson the jackass I’m going to kick his ass next time I see him, for scaring me like that.”

  Huffing out a laugh he replies, “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be terrified, Blondie.” He pauses for effect before continuing, “are you in your room yet?”

  “Yep.” I glance around, looking for my surprise, but seeing nothing. I’m unable to hide the disappointment in my voice. “There’s nothing here! Are you screwing with me, Boner? You do remember who grants you access to the pussy parade, don’t you?”

  “The bed, CJ, check the bed.” I can practically feel the exasperation vibrating in his voice.

  Moving forward, I spot the treasure lying on my pillow.

  “Aidan.” My voice is barely a whisper, missing its usual bravado.

  “You like it?”

  I bend over and pick up the small bouquet of dandelions he left for me. Bringing the delicate flowers to my nose, I inhale deeply, and I’m immediately overwhelmed with memories from my childhood. These flowers—my favorites—are so meaningful to me. I love that Aidan understands that this little bouquet is going to endear him to me, so much more than any big money item.

  “They’re beautiful, Aidan, I love….”

  “FUCK!” A strangled cry from Aidan cuts me off, and my stomach plummets. The blatant terror in his voice reaches through the phone line and wraps an icy cold grip around my heart. “Aidan!” I scream as my ears are assaulted with the sound of screeching tires and splintering glass. The usual arrogant tones of boys who are still growing into men, are replaced with shrill cries of fear and panic, before an eerie silence descends, broken only by the occasional creak of mutilated metal. The dandelions drop to the floor, petals scattering.

  “AIDAN!”

  Cassidy

  Fucking, fuckity, fuckbomb.

  My hand flies up
to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind my ear, but instead it begins to unconsciously twirl the silky tendril around my finger.

  Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out. One. Two. Three.

  “Miss. Jensen, are you listening to me?” Glancing up, I meet the watery, blue eyes of the Human Resources Manager and attempt to control the expletives that are sitting on the tip of my tongue, just waiting to burst forth.

  “Yes, I am, sir.” I endeavor to sound as meek as possible. No matter how much it pains me, I need to recover this situation and turn it around. I refuse to believe this cannot be fixed. “Mr. Connors, let me assure you that I could not be more sorry for my behavior, and I guarantee that it will never happen again.” Mustering all the fake sincerity I have in me, I look across the desk and bestow a blindingly bright smile on him. Taking in the weathered, lined face of the man sitting across from me, I can’t help but notice how his weary appearance is in stark contrast to the vibrancy with which I try to live my life. I do my best not to cringe as I can almost feel his apathy rub off on me.

  “Miss. Jensen, you fell asleep in a meeting. A meeting where you were a representative of this firm, and in turn, presented us in a highly unprofessional manner.” Sighing loudly, he rubs his eyes roughly. “Quite frankly, the crass and uncouth behavior you have demonstrated since your employment, has been appalling. You have already received three written warnings, and I’m afraid I have no choice but to let you go.”

  My mouth drops open in surprise. Suddenly time slows down, and my senses are heightened. I hear the ticking of Connors’ wall clock, the rasp of his breath as he awaits my response. I feel the sweat break out across my brow and my heart jumps to my throat. This can’t be happening, plays on a loop in my head. As awful as this job is, I need it.

  “Conn- uh, I… Mr. Connors, look, I’m sure we can work something out. I agree totally that my behavior was unacceptable, and I can fully accept the need for disciplinary action, but surely dismissal is unnecessary. I mean, if I hadn’t had that dream and gotten a little...um, noisy, no one would have even noticed my little nap!”

  The derisive noise that escapes him, tells me that Connors isn’t buying what I’m selling. Not a problem, I just need to lay it on a little thicker.

  “Mr. Connors, sir, what if I agree to unpaid overtime for a month? Or, or a week of unpaid leave where I think about my behavior and—”

  “This is not a negotiation, I’m sorry.” Walking around his desk, he takes a seat, steepling his fingers in front of him, and meeting my eye. “Please gather your personal items from your desk, and leave the premises, Miss. Jensen. You can collect your reference letter at the front desk on your way out.” Leaning back in his chair, Connors sizes me up, and for the first time since I entered his office, I sense a tiny bit of empathy. “Your administrative work here was adequate, Cassidy, and while your attitude isn’t a fit for Patterson & Partners, I’m sure you will be an asset somewhere else. Perhaps in a less rigid environment. All of which has been reflected in your reference letter.”

  I’m still staring at him, slack jawed, as I try to make sense of what is happening. I hate this job. I’ve hated every office job I’ve ever had. But I have never once been fired from a job. People love me! I’m a fucking delight.

  “That will be all, Miss. Jensen.”

  I realize that I am, once again, being dismissed, so I gather myself as best as I can, and begin to make my exit.

  Stopping in the doorway, I slowly turn, formulating my words and deciding what I want his last impression of me to be. Classy, I decide. Classy is the smart option.

  Nah, fuck that.

  “Connors, dude, everyone knows that’s a fucking rug on your head. And it’s not even a good one. It’s like an animal crawled up there, got cozy, and decided it was a good place to die. You really should do something about that, if you want people to take you seriously. Toodles!” Turning on my heel, I sashay out of the office, smirking at the sounds of indignation that follow me.

  Sitting on a stool, I lean back, placing my elbows on the counter behind me, and survey my surroundings. Crossing my legs, I let my heel slip and dangle from my right foot, bouncing it carelessly. Monroe’s is bustling with the dinner-time rush, and while I normally enjoy people-watching, tonight the raised voices and almost frenzied atmosphere is straining my nerves.

  Glancing down at my watch I see that Wyatt will be finishing up her shift in a few minutes, and Skye should be arriving any time now. My eyes scan the diner again, falling on a booth containing three teenage boys. They’ve been sucking down water for the past twenty minutes, and I’m ready to pounce as soon as they vacate their prime spot. The lanky, spotted one wearing a backwards baseball cap looks up and catches my eye. Leveling him with my best scowl, I throw him daggers that would put Regina George to shame. He cowers for a moment, before hastily grabbing up his things and urging his friends to do the same. In the blink of an eye, they’re scampering out the door, and I throw myself into the booth.

  Grabbing the menu, my eyes slide over the options without really taking anything in. My mind is still in turmoil, trying to assess the damage from today. One thing is blindingly obvious though; I need to find a new job as soon as possible. If my dream is to ever get off the ground, I need to have an income to help finance it. And for all the boring shit too, I guess. A gal really does need food in her belly, and a roof over her head.

  My mind starts to mentally scan through my professional contacts, trying to remember if I’d heard of any jobs going recently. Working in an office is as boring as fuck, so I try to keep things interesting by changing jobs often. This means I’ve managed to gain some inside sources over the years. However, this is the first time I have ever needed a new job, rather than just looking for a way to alleviate my boredom.

  “Hey, Sweetie.”

  I startle comedically as Wyatt slides into the booth opposite me.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Red! Are you trying to kill me?”

  Snickering, she rolls her eyes in response to my dramatic statement, but fuck. She just took years off my life!

  “How long until Skye gets here? I’m starving.”

  “She shouldn’t be very long. We both know what she’ll get though, so we may as well put the order in.” I let my eyes scan the menu one last time. Still nothing seems appetizing, so I settle on a tuna melt.

  “Okay, I’ll run up and give our orders to Dylan.”

  I watch Wyatt as she makes her way to the kitchen, all long limbs, swaying ass and graceful strides. She maneuvers through the crowd with ease, and I envy how content she seems here. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never find my place in this world. Damned if I don’t keep trying though.

  “Ugh.” Skye appears as if from nowhere and takes up a seat alongside me.

  “What the fuck is up with you two scaring the shit out of me?!”

  Skye fumbles with her purse, pushing me further along and getting herself situated before looking at me incredulously. “Are you serious right now? I said your name about a thousand times before I sat down, asking you to move!”

  “A thousand?” I let the word fall from my mouth disbelievingly. “Well, you know, Balls, I’m glad to see you’re not prone to exaggeration. I’d hate to think that Spanky wasn’t really sporting an eight-inch cock.”

  “Cassidy! Oh my god, I have never once told you how big Ben’s mmm-hmm is!”

  My eyes practically pop out of my head and, as hard as I try, I can’t stop the loud snort of laughter that escapes me.

  Wyatt chooses this moment to return to the booth and looks between the two of us quizzically, one eyebrow raised. “Do I even want to know?”

  “No.” Skye’s voice is firm and brokers no argument, so I roll my eyes and mouth “later” to Wyatt, which causes her to giggle. Yeah, Wyatt’s a giggler. Nobody’s perfect, I guess.

  “Okay, why are we here, Cass?” Skye turns her attention to me, and in a very uncommon reaction, I feel my cheeks start to pink.

  “
I got fired today.” My words are uttered with far more confidence than I’m actually feeling, and I’m pretty damn proud that I got it out without a single waver.

  Looking up, I am met with two shocked expressions, their eyes almost as wide as their mouths.

  “Well, say something! Isn’t this where you’re supposed to offer me encouragement and tell me how everything is going to be all right?” I swing my head between my two best friends. “I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty disappointed in you both right now.”

  Skye is the first to regain control of her verbal capabilities, spewing out a bunch of platitudes while grabbing my hand in both of hers and squeezing tight. Which I’m sure is supposed to be comforting, but the reality is more excruciating than anything else.

  “Cassidy, what happened?” Wyatt’s voice is quietly curious, but manages to avoid any sense of attack. I think we all know that my work ethic can sometimes leave a lot to be desired, so I appreciate the restraint she’s showing.

  “I might have fallen asleep in a meeting.” The grip on my hand loosens, and I can sense that I’m losing my audience, so I rush on. “But in my defence, I had been up the entire night before, getting an order finished. And nobody would have even realized I was asleep, but I started having that recurring Chris Pratt dream. You know the one where he’s licking my—” Noticing the raised eyebrows and unimpressed looks I am receiving from my “friends” I decide it’s best to cut that thought short. “Anyway, all I’m saying is I made a few little moans, and suddenly I’m unemployable? How is that fair?”

  Skye and Wyatt look at each other across the table, and I try to gauge their reactions. I’m aware that napping during an important meeting is probably not the most professional thing I’ve ever done. But, Christ, being an administrative assistant, for a taxation lawyer no less, is boring as all fuck. Surely concessions need to be made to accommodate the boredom factor?

 

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