The Fake Engagement Favor

by Charlene Sands

  Ashiya sat in her car in the Jackson Falls Country Club parking lot. She’d driven there on autopilot while listening to her late grandmother’s personal assistant talk about everything she was expected to inherit. Not only the shares in the company, but a home in Hilton Head, South Carolina, multiple properties throughout the Southeast, all her grandmother’s money and worldly goods, and a vintage Jaguar vehicle.

  The information whirled around in her head like clothes during the spin cycle of a washing machine. She didn’t believe a word of it. She’d said as much while on the phone with Brianna. How could her grandmother’s assistant know what Ashiya was getting if the will hadn’t been read yet?

  “I was with your grandmother when she made the changes with her lawyer, and I served as the notary. Believe me. You’re getting it all.”

  Inheriting her grandmother’s money made absolutely no sense. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in years. Decades. Her grandmother hated when her dad married her mom and wanted to keep her mother from having access to even a penny of the money the company made. Ashiya always assumed her grandmother didn’t want Ashiya to gain access to the company either since Gloria Waters never made any attempt to reach out to her or form any type of relationship with her. Now she was supposed to believe the company, money and property were all hers?

  She had to get to the bottom of this. She couldn’t go inside and celebrate with her cousins. She wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. Yet, she didn’t want to outright snub Elaina.

  Ashiya got out of the car and dialed India’s number. Her cousin answered quickly. “Hey, are you here?”

  “Umm…yeah, but I can’t stay. Can you meet me at the front door? And don’t tell Elaina.”

  “Sure, let me step away so I can hear you better,” India said, not asking for more information. “I’ll be right back,” she said not quite in the phone. Ashiya assumed she spoke to Elaina and Zoe.

  Ashiya arrived at the front of the clubhouse and slid through the door. India came around the corner at the same time. Her cousin slid her phone into the pocket of her pink sundress. Her curly hair was twisted into a cute puff at the top of her head, and worry clouded her brown eyes.

  India immediately came over and placed a hand on Ashiya’s arm. India was two years younger than Ashiya, but they were more like sisters than cousins. “What’s going on?”

  Ashiya let out a humorless laugh. Where would she even start? There were so many unanswered questions she was afraid to even try to begin to unravel.

  “Something came up,” she said. “I really need to go talk to Mom and figure out what’s going on?”

  India frowned. “Is everything okay? Did my dad do something?”

  Ashiya shook her head. “No. For once this doesn’t have anything to do with your dad.”

  Ashiya paced in front of the door. She wished her problem were tied to her Uncle Grant. She’d know what to do if that were the case. Thankfully, because Ashiya was busy with her “little store” Grant Robidoux didn’t pay her any attention. She’d rather deal with her overbearing uncle meddling than inherit a fortune and the responsibility that came with it.

  India reached out and took Ashiya’s elbow in her hand, stopping her from pacing. A small line appeared between her brows. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  Ashiya took a deep breath and met her cousin’s worried expression. “My grandmother died.”

  India blinked. Her head drew back, and she frowned. “Your grandmother?” India’s eyes narrowed as if the idea of Ashiya having a grandmother was unheard of before her head cocked to the side. “You mean your dad’s mom?”

  India’s surprise at the announcement was further proof that what Brianna said on the phone made no sense. Ashiya had no ties or contact with her grandmother. There was no way the woman would leave Ashiya with all of this responsibility.

  Ashiya sighed and shrugged. “The one and only.”

  The confusion left India’s eyes, and sympathy filled them instead. “Oh, no, Ashiya, I’m sorry.” India pulled Ashiya in for a hug.

  Ashiya stepped back after a second in India’s embrace. She didn’t deserve it. Sure, she was saddened to hear the news, but she wasn’t devastated. She hadn’t known the woman. And there came the guilt. A big, heavy weight in her chest. She didn’t deserve sympathy, and she definitely didn’t deserve money.

  “Thank you, but I’m fine. Really, I am. I barely knew her, and according to my mom she is—was—evil.”

  India shook her head. “No one is completely evil. You told me yourself there was bad blood between her and your mom since your parents got married. There are always two sides. I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to hear her side.”

  Ashiya pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’re right, I guess. But I got a call from her personal assistant. She wants me to come to Hilton Head for the reading of the will. She thinks my grandmother left everything to me.”

  India’s eyes widened. “For real?”

  “That’s what she says, but I don’t believe it. My grandmother hated Momma, and she didn’t like me. Why would she leave everything to me?”

  “Maybe she didn’t hate you and your mom as much as you think,” India said in her very logical, let’s-view-all-sides way.

  “No, the hatred was real.” She remembered the visits to her grandmother when she was young. The cold shoulder. The shouting behind closed doors. The names she’d called Ashiya’s mom. Names like gold digger, whore, two-faced witch. Names Ashiya hadn’t understood the meaning of back then but knew they couldn’t be good.

  She shook her head to rid her brain of the memories. “I can’t believe it. I can’t do it.”

  “Do what? Go to the funeral? I don’t think it’ll hurt just to pay your respects.”

  If only that’s what she meant. She tugged on her ear and glanced around. No one was in the front of the clubhouse with them. “Take the company, the money, the estate,” she said in a thin voice. “I don’t know how to run anything.”

  India had leaned in to hear what Ashiya had to say. After Ashiya spoke, India grunted and leaned back. She gave Ashiya an are-you-kidding-me side-eye. “Ashiya, you run a business now.”

  “A small clothing store here in Jackson Falls. And not even new clothes. They’re consignments. I can’t run a corporation.”

  The thought of being in charge of million-dollar decisions, having to report to a board of directors, fighting for respect from people who’d spent their entire careers in the corporate world made her stomach twist in a dozen glass-encrusted knots. No, she couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. They’d eat her alive in less than thirty seconds.

  India rolled her eyes. “Girl, get out of your damn head. Before you start having a panic attack and telling yourself all the things you can’t do, how about you first find out what exactly you’ve inherited and what, if anything, you have to do about that?”

  Ashiya took a deep breath. Her stomach still twisted. Her palms sweat, but India’s words took the edge off her anxiety. Until she knew for sure what was going on, there was no need to freak out. The freak-out could wait until she was sure Brianna was right.

  Please, God, let Brianna be wrong. She sent up the quick prayer.

  She met India’s you’ve-got-this gaze. “You’re right. I just never thought I’d be in this position. You know I never wanted to be a part of that world.”

  Understanding crossed India’s features. India’s desire to stay out of the running for top billing in the Robidoux family was one of the reasons she and Ashiya had been so close. Ever since they were kids and India gave Ashiya her favorite teddy bear instead of laughing when she’d learned that at eleven, Ashiya was still afraid of the dark she’d mentally adopted India as her little sister.

  “Not wanting to be a part of it and being able to survive it are two different things,” India said in a supportive voice. “Regardless of what hap
pens, I believe you can handle it.”

  Ashiya wished she had a tenth of her cousin’s optimism. “Time will tell. Look, I need to talk to Momma about all this. See what she thinks and then make plans to go to Hilton Head. I guess I just needed to talk to someone first and get my initial freak-out out of the way. You know Momma. She’ll tell me to calm down, act like a Robidoux, and take everything my grandmother left and more.”

  At times Ashiya thought her momma forgot that Ashiya was half Waters. That even though her dad had generated his own wealth, he’d given up the wealth from his family when he’d married her. Elizabeth Robidoux Waters had not known her husband knew he wouldn’t inherit a thing if he married her. She also hadn’t forgiven him once she learned the truth. He’d only wanted to be happy, and despite her parents’ strained marriage, her dad had found his own way without the help of his mom or his wife’s rich family. He was why Ashiya had tried to avoid being as cutthroat as some of her Robidoux cousins.

  India nodded and patted Ashiya on the shoulder. “I’ll tell Elaina that something came up. She’ll be fine.”

  Ashiya reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “Give this to her, okay? I know she didn’t want gifts, but I still thought I’d get her something. Tell her to enjoy it.”

  Ashiya had gotten Elaina a yearlong subscription to a tea-of-the-month club. Since her cousin was cutting back on alcohol, she’d focused on using tea to calm her nerves. Ashiya hoped the gift would be welcome from the prickly Elaina.

  “I will. You go. Talk to your mom and call me before you head out of town. If you need me to go with you—”

  “No, I’ll be fine. I may need drinks when I return.”

  “I’ve got you.” This time when India opened her arms for a hug, Ashiya took it. She’d need all the emotional support she could muster if the inheritance was really hers.

  They pulled apart, and Ashiya watched as India went back toward the dining area. With a determined sigh, she went to the door leading out of the clubhouse. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation with her mom, but she couldn’t possibly go to the funeral and learn the contents of the will without saying something to her.

  She pushed open the door at the same time someone pulled from the other side. She lost her balance and stumbled forward on her high heels. She barely stopped herself from falling. A warm hand reached out and steadied her by the elbow.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  “Sorry,” a familiar male voice said at the same time.

  Ashiya froze. The blood rushed from her face, and her lungs decided breathing wasn’t necessary at that moment. Her eyes jerked up. Surprise, embarrassment, and regret sent her body into a confusing tailspin. The familiar face seemed just as surprised to see her. Her heart squeezed while the lingering touch of his hand on her elbow turned her limbs into jelly.

  Russell. The guy she should have chosen. Fine as hell Russell. He would be the person she saw when she was already discombobulated.

  Fine as hell was a weak string of words to describe Russell Gilchrist. Tall, broad of shoulders, thick of thighs, and sweet of heart, Russell was the perfect embodiment of good guy with just a hint of bad boy beneath to make a woman fantasize about seeing him lose control. The lights from outside the clubhouse added a silvery glow to his sandy-brown skin and brought out the gold in his hazel eyes. He’d offered her everything she said she’d wanted in a relationship, and in turn she’d broken his heart when her jerk of an ex came back and said all the right words with wrong intentions.

  After recognition entered his gaze, he quickly snatched his hand back. “You good?” His voice didn’t seem as concerned now that he recognized her. Instead it was cold, clipped, as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her.

  “I’m fine. I was in a rush and didn’t—”

  “Then I’ll let you get going.” He stepped to the side so she could walk away.

  Ashiya sucked in a breath. Three years had passed, yet she still couldn’t get used to seeing the cold look in his eye. Three years of seeing him occasionally around town or at parties and trying to accept the way he barely held her gaze or spoke to her in a tone warmer than an Antarctic. She’d seen his other side. She’d seen the adoration shining in his eyes. Heard the way he whispered her name when he was deep inside of her. Knew he could be the most caring person she’d ever met. Knowing that only made this side of him hard as hell to accept.

  “Russell, I…”

  “I’ll see you around.” He walked pass her and entered the clubhouse without another glance her way.

  Heat spread through her cheeks. She looked to the sky and groaned. No matter what she said or did, she couldn’t break through the silent treatment. Not that she could blame him. She’d toyed with him. Used him to make her ex jealous, and by the time she realized she was falling for Russell, it was too late.

  She wanted to rush back into the clubhouse and demand that he talk to her. That he let her explain. That he give her, them, another chance. Instead, she sighed and walked to her car. Getting Russell back was still on her bucket list, but she couldn’t focus on that particular goal at the moment. Right now, she had to figure out how to get rid of a million-dollar inheritance.

  Don’t miss what happens next in…

  Foolish Hearts

  by Synithia Williams

  Available September 2021 wherever

  HQN books and ebooks are sold.

  www.HQNBooks.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Synithia R. Williams

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Ways to Tempt the Boss by Joanne Rock.

  Ways to Tempt the Boss

  by Joanne Rock

  One

  As corporate spies went, makeup artist Blair Westcott sure didn’t seem the type.

  Lucas Deschamps studied the newest hire for

  Deschamps Cosmetics from the shadows of a lighted set while his creative team prepared for a photo shoot in the West Village. Blair wielded an eyeliner brush with a steady hand as she created a cat’s-eye on the model seated in her chair. Latin pop music poured from a Bluetooth speaker on the mirrored vanity table, a makeup kit unfolding like Russian nesting dolls on a cart nearby. A shoulder-length blond ponytail swung over one shoulder as she leaned forward to work on the Brazilian Olympic athlete who’d agreed to endorse the Deschamps brand.

  Yet it wasn’t the celebrated international volleyball player who captured his attention. That distinction went solely to Blair, whose black apron cinched her waist and flared over hourglass hips. She laughed and chatted as she worked, her warm manner putting the other woman at ease, the same way it did with everyone she encountered.

  Except, of course, for Lucas. Ease was never what he experienced around the talented makeup artist his mother—founder of the brand—had hired without consulting him. Not that Cybil Deschamps needed his approval, since it was still technically her company. But with Lucas’s estranged father attempting to acquire the smaller brand as a way to undermine his ex-wife, Lucas wished his mom had come to him sooner to help stabilize the business. Lucas would have recommended a hiring freeze in case his shady father attempted to place a plant inside the company to gather corporate intelligence. He wouldn’t put it past the guy.

  Could Blair be that plant? It set off warning bells in Lucas’s head that her previous job was at a Long Island-based beauty company owned by the luxury-brand conglomerate headed by Lucas’s father. Biting back his frustration, Lucas sidestepped a photographer’s assistant as the young woman dragged a floor light off the set to make room for a fan. Another assistant passed Lucas a cup of black coffee he hadn’t asked for, but he accepted the mug while he added up what he knew about the makeup artist currently sifting through a tray of eye-shadow palettes.

  For starters, Blair Westcott seemed entirely too sweet. Too kind and warmhearted to be for real. She baked treats for the staff at Deschamps Cosmetics, for cr
ying out loud. At least once a week since she started with the company six weeks ago, she showed up with plastic containers stuffed full of homemade cookies or cupcakes. Who did that? He tried to picture her juggling those big containers on the subway during rush hour and failed. Then again, she was also the sort of person others hastened to help. If Blair had been a cartoon princess, she would be the one that all of the forest animals followed around while they sang songs and cleaned her house. It was the Blair Effect.

  And the quality was so noticeable, so unusual, that it made him wonder what she was hiding under the sunny exterior. He’d suspected there was a mole in the company dating back almost six weeks—the same time frame Blair had been hired. So he’d taken a closer look at her. In his experience, no one was as thoughtful and sweet as she appeared to be without an ulterior motive.

  She raised red flags for him. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing she raised. Along with his suspicion of her, Lucas also felt hot, unrelenting attraction. The unwanted hunger ticked him off and made him perpetually surly around her, which hadn’t exactly helped him figure her out.

  “Would you like to take an advance peek, Lucas?”

  The dulcet tone of Blair’s voice yanked him from his dark thoughts, and he glanced up to meet the pale, blue-green eyes of his tormentor. She gestured toward the athlete she’d been working on for the photo shoot, then took a step back from her makeup chair, as if to leave him an unobstructed view of her work. Too bad it was all but impossible to tear his gaze from her. Her lips were so full they had a perpetual pouting quality. Her cheeks were just rounded enough to make the appearance of her dimples a surprise when she smiled. But it was her tall, curvy form that was the source of too many personal fantasies. There was an unapologetic femininity in the way she dressed that flattered every delectable inch of her. Today’s frothy pink skirt and prim white blouse were typical of her wardrobe and shouldn’t be so damn enticing.