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I really don’t want to be here, Sally mentally grumbled as she stepped through the wide-open, intricately and beautifully carved oak double doors and into the lair of the lion. Damn. Even the front doors on his house were swoon-worthy.
Pull yourself together, woman!
Sucking in a breath and wishing it didn’t taste like saltwater and beachy daydreams, Sally paused at the threshold and wondered how the hell she got herself embroiled in her current situation.
Oh, that’s right.
When Sally woke up that morning, she’d rolled out of bed, cursed the gods of money that required she’d work for it, then she’d called her brother, begging to be released from her promise to attend the party Harris Construction, LLC was throwing that night with…Sylvester White. She attempted a guilt trip, made excuses about having previous plans with coworkers, and even tried the old, trusty “I’m on my period” excuse to get out of it, but her big brother, an expert at seeing through her bullshit, hadn’t let her back out of it. Besides, what kind of selfish bitch sister didn’t want to come and at least congratulate her brother in person at a party hosted by his business—one he was super proud of?
Grumbling, she’d given in. And now, there she was.
So much for never seeing him again.
After the news broadcast that had carved out her soul, she’d determined to never think of Sylvester White again.
The Fates were bitches, though.
That very next day, her beloved brother had so gleefully informed her that the company he’d founded with his best friend, Blaze, was partnering with White Estate Corporation. At first, Sallina hadn’t realized what that meant for her. For AJ, it meant his business was sky-rocketing, and he could finally thumb his nose as their sperm donor. To AJ, it meant he could finally see himself as the success that Sallina already saw him as. To AJ, it meant the world.
But when reality sank in, and Sallina finally realized who her brother had partnered with, she’d also realized she couldn’t say anything to AJ about what had happened between her and Sylvester. Her brother couldn’t know that she’d been fooled and fucked by his new business partner, not when her brother deserved all that good that was coming to him. Not that Sylvester would even remember her.
Just add it to the list of other things I’m keeping from AJ for his own good.
After AJ had turned 18 years old and finally escaped the Maison, their childhood home, Sallina realized she had to do everything within her power to keep her beloved brother from ever returning. Their father, Henri Dupree of the Montreal Duprees, had been “gracious” enough to allow his only son to leave, to start his own life without the expectation of taking on the weight and “honor” of being the sole heir to the Dupree Diamonds empire. Their father, a selfish, ego-maniacal, self-centered, arrogant, hateful, bitter man, had believed a son born of his weak blooded wife—the only daughter of a Mexican avocado millionaire—was incapable of ruling the family empire. So, her magnanimous papa decided he could rule the family dynasty without his only son—and AJ had snatched the opportunity for freedom from his father’s clutches and made a life for himself away from anything having to do with the Duprees.
She, as the only daughter of Henri and Maria Durpee, had been a pint-sized voodoo doll for the woman her father had truly hated—her mother, and Sally had paid for it…up until she turned eighteen and escaped to Miami and AJ.
Now, she was a different person, and so was AJ. To cut away the rot of their father cleanly, they even changed their last names, taking on their mother’s family name in honor of her. Now, as Mendezes, AJ was a success in his own right without the “affluence” of his father’s family, and she was an independent woman, free from expectations, imperious men, and faithless, honor-less males.
At least she thought she was. Until she saw that damn news report.
Foolishly she thought, maybe, she could show up to the Harris-White celebration, find AJ, wish him and Blaze all the best, hug Anna—who’d forgiven Blaze and finally found happiness with him, then get the hell out of there—all without being spotted by the man who’d gone straight to her hips and thighs.
Standing in front of her bathroom mirror that morning, she’d glared at her new figure, care of emotional eating, depression, and “ah, the fuck with it.” Over six months, she’d gained thirty pounds.
Thirty pounds!
As a healthy, body-positive Latina woman, she’d always loved her curves—flaunting them every-fucking-where. But with an extra thirty pounds, her ass and hips were out of control! No amount of running or dieting was going to rein in her glutes, and she really didn’t care. If a man didn’t like her extra curves, they could fuck right off.
Sylvester liked your curves just fine….He’d traced them with his fingers tips and his tongue, and had gripped them tightly as he’d pounded into her.
Shut that shit down!
She grew from a size 12 to a size 16 almost overnight, and she only had Sylvester to blame.
Dammit, bitch! You know damn well you brought this on yourself. That’s what you get for falling for a piece of shit smile and his too-good-to-believe promises.
And now, after being guilted—rightfully so—into attending the party by her brother—a partner at Harris Construction, LLC—she was tucked into a black bodycon dress that hugged all her new curves. Wearing a pair of black stilettos with thin gladiator straps around her ankles and calves made her newer, bigger ass and sexy-as-always legs look amazing. She’d styled her hair into a high-top ponytail, so her long, sleek black hair hung down her neck to just past her shoulders. Her makeup was the perfect smoky eye with a dash of silver to help her eyes pop. With a final kiss of deep red lipstick, she was ready to kill…and all she wanted to do was turn around, snatch her keys from the valet hired for the party, and go hide in her apartment with Ben, Jerry, and Senor Cuervo.
But that isn’t you. You don’t run, you don’t hide, and Sly White isn’t man enough to face you anyway. He probably wants to avoid you like the plague as much as you do. He fucked you and ran…he’d rather face a rabid bear than see one of his one-night hookups again.
Sally hated how much that thought stung. She wanted to mean more to Sylvester White than that; she wanted to be special, a once-in-a-lifetime shooting star he would never forget. But she was a realist. She knew that hoping Sly would even remember her was about as probable as finding a blade of hay in a stack of needles. But, despite being a 21st-century working badass bitch, she was still a vulnerable, dream weaving, soul-yearning, heart-holding little girl, looking for a prince to come save her.
Sylvester White is not your prince! He’s a liar. An adulterer. A vow-breaking asshole, just like Daddy.
And that was enough to shut. It. All. Down. As much as she’d loved her momma, she refused to be like her; a victim of a man’s sexual needs and vile intentions.
Steeling her spine, she moved further into the large, gorgeous grand foyer. White walls were trimmed with jade green wainscoting and accented with a central chandelier made of what looked like hand polish sea glass. The floors were white marble with dark gray veining, and the ceiling—which was at least three stories overhead—was covered in hand-hammered tin. The whole room was the perfect mix of retro classic, beach chic, and edgy modern.
