by Mila Nicks
Happily Ever Afters
Mila Nicks
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Mila Nicks
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, visit: www.milanickswrites.com.
Book cover design by Cover Ever After
Contents
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
Epilogue
Also by Mila Nicks
1
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Cc/Bcc:
Subject: CALL ME IMMEDIATELY - WEDDING INFO!!!!!
JULES
I called you last night but you didn’t answer. Your international ass stays on the move, LOL! Get back to me ASAP! Dom and I have set the date — JULY 6TH, PARADISE KEY! Put that shit in your iphone calendar! Best part is Dom’s family is sooo dang rich they’re footing the bill. EVERYTHING IS PAID FOR! I need you with me or I’m going crazy. I’m already tripping over the smallest shit. You and bae still able to come for a week? I figure July 1st thru jul 7th? Please please please!
CALL ME ASAP!!!
LOVE
GIGI
The email from her baby sister glowed blue in the dark on Juliette's MacBook screen. She squinted at the words, half-asleep, given the time being three in the morning. Why was she up again?
The shuddering rack of a sudden yawn seized hold of her and she surrendered without a fight. Against the many pillows in her king-sized bed, sleep threatened to reclaim her at any second. She fought through the fog trying to lull her into dreamland and focused on Giselle’s email.
It was true that around 7:30 P.M. last night her phone had gone off. Juliette hadn’t answered. Not intentionally. At the time, she’d been engaged in an intense kick-boxing class. Swinging her leg in the air, sweaty to the touch but buzzing with adrenaline, she couldn’t press pause for something as silly and trivial as a phone call. After that she’d showered and changed and grabbed a quick to-go bite at the Thai spot on her way home.
The plan was always to call Gigi tomorrow. Hopefully. Her schedule tended to be on the busier side. When she wasn’t buried under an avalanche of paperwork at the District Attorney’s office, she was prepping heavily as the lead prosecutor in whatever case gone to trial. Outside the insane work hours her job called for at times, she tried to stick to things which kept her sane, happy, and healthy. Things like exercise, silly social engagements, and small hobbies practiced alone. Her favorite was painting.
Giselle’s life was pretty different. Gigi still lived at home with Mom and Dad in Pennsylvania. A college graduate by the skin of her teeth, her baby sister’s primary career wasn’t in pharmaceutical sales like her degree stated, but rather, seeking out wealthy, eligible bachelors. It took a couple years of misfires but she struck gold with Dominic Brosman, a thirty-five-year-old heart surgeon who hailed from one of the richest African American families in the state. Now they were engaged to marry. Soon.
Juliette raised her hands and rubbed her squinted eyes. Originally she’d gotten up to use the bathroom and then sleepily reasoned it couldn’t hurt to check her emails. In wait for one about the upcoming Orchowski trial, she’d forgotten to log on before falling asleep. Instead, aside from a dozen spam emails, Gigi’s had been top of the list.
The groggy spell hindering her faded away in exchange for a brush with reality. She sat up straighter against the pillows and raked her teeth over her bottom lip. Giselle and Dominic were getting married in just over two weeks. Much sooner than initially anticipated. So soon that Juliette hadn’t expected to be thrown off track from her plan.
In the past four weeks since she’d broken up with Winston, she focused on regaining a good work life balance. She countered long hours spent at the office with time spent at salons getting mani-pedi’s or at the gym beating the shit out of punching bags. The last step was telling everybody else. Mom and Dad and Gigi.
They’d never met Winston. Never even seen a photo of him. But they’d eaten up the rare crumb she offered about her budding relationship whenever given the chance. During her last visit for Christmas, Mom dialed up the pressure and cornered her into agreeing to bring him to Gigi’s wedding. At the time she agreed to end Mom’s nagging.
At thirty, Mom and Dad weren’t shy about their martial countdown for her. They expected she got the ball rolling and settle down. They wanted their grand babies from both daughters. In the wake of her breakup with Winston, she thought she had time to gently break the disappointing news.
Now this.
Sighing, she lamented being forced to come clean. Against the fluffy pillows, she clicked ‘reply’ to Giselle’s email. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, deciding the bombshell was best left for a phone call.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Cc/Bcc:
Subject: Re: CALL ME IMMEDIATELY - WEDDING INFO!!!!!
Gigi,
Sorry I missed your call! I was busy with work stuff. You know how it goes. Those dates are great! I already warned the D.A. I’m going to need time off this summer. :)
I’m so happy for you and Dom! I can’t wait to take part in your special day. Don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep you from losing your shit. I’m your big sis. It’s what I’m here for! Anyway, I’ll call you tonight. We definitely need to catch up! There’s something I have to tell you…
Love,
Jules
Juliette's fingers finished tapping away at the keys and she hit ‘SEND’. Already awake despite the rest of Atlanta being fast asleep, she kicked her covers away and rose for the day. Another workout session couldn’t hurt.
Preston Brooker’s day began at 3:30 A.M. sharp. He woke to his alarm. Tank tried to curl up and hide beneath his covers, hoping to go undetected as his Papa got out of bed for a long day. The French Bulldog never learned, falsely believing that maybe—just maybe—today was the day Preston would forget about him and leave him comfortably in his doggy bed.
“C’mon,” Preston rasped in the dark. “Time for pee-pee.”
The reluctant French Bulldog followed him into the yard, where he relieved himself, and then grumpily retreated inside. By that time Preston had moved onto his kitchen routine, starting the coffee pot and packing his lunch. His shift at the station began at six A.M., but if he left by four he’d get a decent workout in at Fitness Zone. The daily cardio and weights were a necessary evil given the physical demands working in Vice. As dedicated as he was, his workouts and shifts on duty left him looking forward to the after—kicking his legs up beside Tank, popping the tab on a beer, and relaxing.
He showered. The hot water woke him up. He slicked back his ear-length brown waves and wiped shampoo from his eyes. Only after he’d step out the shower, reaching for a towel, would he feel truly awake. Tank collapsed in his dog bed, moodily bunched
up with his blanket in an attempt to fall asleep again. Preston shook his head, partly amused by his pet’s attitude, and tossed what he needed in his gym bag.
The drive to Fitness Zone was quick given the empty roads. Even in Atlanta, most slept at four A.M. on a Wednesday. He imagined he looked a scruffy mess having forgone shaving, arriving in wrinkly shorts and a gym bag slung over his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He stopped at the water fountain for a quick thirst quench when he spotted a familiar face. Standing up straight, his grin spread onto his stubbled cheeks.
“Jules?”
“Hey! Thought I’d run into you,” said Juliette Lowry. She hovered outside the cardio room in the middle of a quad stretch. Balanced on her left leg with her right held behind her, she gave him a smile much too bright for so early in the morning. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an extra workout in early like you. You’re rubbing off on me.”
“Told you. Look how empty the gym is. Best kept secret.”
He fell into step with his friend once she finished her stretches. They headed into the cardio room filled with a diverse range of machines. The sanitary scent of Clorox filtered through the largely unoccupied space. In another hour or two, it’d be packed with hordes of sweaty, breathless people.
Preston and Juliette chose treadmills side-by-side, setting the pace at a brisk walk to warm up.
The two friends had met a couple years ago outside the Atlanta courthouse. First impression sour from the get-go, the two collided quite literally. Juliette hurried with folders laden in her arms and cellphone clutched to her ear, uncharacteristically late for her first day as prosecutor. Preston happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, sipping a coffee in wait for the trial set to begin. One sharp turn much too fast on heels, she crashed straight into him. His coffee spilled down the front of his shirt, and a heated exchange ensued. That was before he found out she was the new A.D.A. Before she knew he was one of the detectives who investigated the case.
Luckily their contentious beginning was short-lived. Eventually they realized that they had more in common than they thought: they were both single young professionals in their 20’s obsessed with their careers and hell bent on throwing criminals behind bars. They bonded from there until work camaraderie evolved into off-duty friendship. But she still owed him that coffee. And he loved never letting her forget it.
“How was that kickboxing class?”
“It kicked my ass. But in a good way.”
“Is that a thing?”
“You have to be there to get it. You should come to the next one. Then after we can hit up that Thai spot I was telling you about.”
“After work is for enjoying a beer.”
Juliette rolled her eyes, fiddling with the mini screen on her treadmill. “Stop being so stuck in your ways, detective.”
“Alright, Miss Prosecutor,” he teased back without missing a beat. “That’s kinda rich coming from you. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as O.C.D. as you get sometimes.”
“Am I that bad?”
He chuckled. “You’re lucky you can get away with it.”
“Good to know.”
“Since tonight you won’t be kicking any ass, you wanna grab dinner?”
“Wing Wednesday! I’m already excited. I should be out of the office by six.”
“That works.” Preston upped the pace on his treadmill into a light trot. He was about to stick his earbuds in and select his playlist, but hesitated after a thought from earlier in their conversation struck him. “Why couldn’t you sleep anyway? Prepping for a big case?”
“Started out that way but wound up being personal stuff.”
“Personal stuff?”
Juliette slipped into a jog of her own. Her tone changed whether from the physical exertion or the shift in conversation, he wasn’t sure. She ran a couple steps, staring straight ahead before she answered.
“Sister’s wedding. I’ll tell you later.”
From there they got lost in their workout, earbuds in and sweat pouring. Preston's curiosity remained though as he pondered what could wake her so early in the morning.
“Large hazelnut latte, please. Almond milk. Thanks.”
Juliette showed her appreciation for the barista with a smile. She was freshly showered and changed from her spontaneous crack of dawn stint at the gym. Considering she’d gotten a start significantly earlier than usual, she figured it couldn’t hurt to reward herself with a coffee from her favorite spot downtown.
In wait for her order, she pulled out her phone and logged onto Instapix. Her account differed from most. Her main profile picture hadn’t been changed in over a year. She had three pictures and one video uploaded for views, likes and comments. Her barren account was intentional as she’d never been big on social media. She logged on mostly for the messaging feature, where she kept in touch with family and friends long-distance, and visited their profiles to catchup on their active lives.
Opening the application that morning, the first photo on her feed was Gigi and Dom. Her baby sister beamed prettily at the camera with her big, fat rock gleaming in the Pennsylvania sunshine. A bronzed Dom stood behind her with his handsome cleft on display and arms tight on Gigi’s waist. The couple looked perfect, like they posed for a cover of a rom-com movie poster.
Juliette tapped ‘like’, joining the other four hundred and sixty-six individuals who had viewed the photo. She was happy for her baby sister, but staring at her phone reminded her how things between she and Winston had disintegrated at a rapid pace. Honestly, deep down she knew it was for the best as she’d loved the idea of a relationship and marriage more than Winston himself. The pressure to settle down had her accepting his proposal. Nothing more.
Still, it was going to be a hard pill to swallow disappointing everyone. Especially nearing the date of her younger sister’s wedding…
“Large hazelnut latte for Julia.”
Juliette looked up and chose not to waste the energy correcting the barista. It wasn’t the first time a barista had botched her name. It wouldn’t be the last.
On her walk down the street, a block away from the District Attorney’s office, her phone rang.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Honey, I’m surprised you didn’t let it go to voicemail. You’re so busy these days!” Mom chirped. “Are you at work? Can you talk?”
“I’m headed there now. Tell Gigi I’m sorry I missed her call, but I answered her email. I’ll be there for the dates she needs.”
“Great! She’ll be relieved. You know her and how she gets when she’s stressed.”
“Classic youngest child syndrome—have a meltdown or throw a tantrum and everyone will fawn all over you. Sounds exactly right.” Juliette laughed, dodging opposite passerby on the busy sidewalk. “Mom, how are you? How’s Dad?”
“I’m…I’m all over the place. Guess that’s where Gigi gets it from.”
The answer confused her, drawing her brows together. “What do you mean? Is everything okay?”
“It’s hard not to be overjoyed for you and your sister.” Mom sighed softly into the phone. “You’re both career women and have found the men of your dreams.”
“Uh, yeah. About that.”
“Your dad is counting the days ’til he gets to walk Gigi—and you—down the aisle.”
“Mom…listen…”
Mom’s sniffle cut her off. “That’s what makes me so sad at the same time.”
“Stop speaking in riddles. What’s wrong?” Juliette usually censored her blunt delivery for her parents. They were both sensitive, gentle souls and her direct words had on occasion been too abrasive for them. Walking the downtown sidewalk and listening to Mom’s cryptic remarks were a little too grating though. What was going on?
“Time really is something we take for granted. It’s why we’ve been eager to see you and Gigi blossom into the beautiful women you have become,” Mom explained sagely. “I’ve hesitated telling you girls what’s been going on with your D
ad. Especially Gigi. She’s very emotional and stressed about the wedding. But the truth is, we’re…we’re not sure how much time he has left.”
Juliette stopped mid-step, causing a footsie traffic jam for those around her. She didn’t care as Mom’s last sentence echoed irreversibly in her ears. Stun chilled over her body head-to-toe and froze her into place like an ice sculpture liable to melt under the Atlanta sun. She struggled to speak. To ask the follow-up questions she wanted. Even think anything.
“It’s his heart condition. We’ve kept it quiet for the past couple months. We were hoping things would get better, but it’s gotten worse. Blood’s not pumping to his heart like it should be. Your father needs surgery to correct a valve. The doctors say there have been advancements in recent years to make the operation as smooth as possible, b-but it’s still major surgery. There’s…There’s always a chance…” Mom surrendered to a breathless sob. “It’s going to make him so happy to see Gigi and Dom get married. He’s going to get to finally meet Winston. He just wants to know his princesses will have the lives he’s always wanted for them in case anything happens.”
Being an Assistant District Attorney, Juliette rarely found herself speechless. This was one of those times. Her knees wobbled and she hazily wondered if she should use the building nearby for support.
“I’m sorry to drop this on you before your workday. I hadn’t meant to mention it. His operation is scheduled for end of July. Your Dad and I agreed to wait ’til after the wedding, but I know you can handle this news. You’ve always been so mature. I need you to help me keep things on track, honey. Keep Gigi from getting too stressed. Keep your Dad as happy as possible. Everything needs to be wonderful. Can you do that for me?”