Read London Bound: New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers) Online
Authors: Nana Malone
London Bound
by Nana Malone
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
London Bound
Copyright © 2014 by Nana Malone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Digital Edition published by Nana Malone
Cover Art by Kimberly Killion
Edited by Val Hatfield
Copy Edited by Marcie Gately
Digital Formatting by Author E.M.S.
Dedication
To Jasper Van Der Hurd, you are remembered for your talent, your laugh and your wit. May you ever rest in peace.
To Tricia, Sefa and Reggie, you three changed the whole course of my life without knowing it. Without you, London would not have been the experience it was. You truly made it a home away from home.
To my wonderful writer, sister, friend, Misty Evans, thank you for always pushing me to be the best writer I can be. As I wrap I my 11th book, I can’t help but remember how we met and how you’ve shaped me not just as a writer but as a person. Thank you for putting up with me. I love you.
To my twinkie, Marcie Gately. Thursday is coming! One step closer, start thinking up names for our Huyras. You know I have not enough words, so I won’t put them all here, but you know how I feel.
Acknowledgments
To my Sassy Street Team, we are small, but mighty and I adore you. I’m am eternally grateful that you rallied behind me with this book. When I needed Betas, you stepped in. When I needed reviewers, you volunteers your friends, I cannot say thank you enough, except to put it out for the world to see how awesome you are.
Kim Thomas
Tina Young
Patricia Gunn
Kinberly Golden Malmgren
Tiffany Alexander
Fanny Mateo
Michelle Alerte
Madelina Rivera
Alexandrea Ward
Tara Dunham Davis
Tricia Warren
Rebecca Hollingsworth
Tanya Mayes
Pauline Glaser
Chapter 1
Where the hell was it?
Abena Nartey frantically checked the pile of mail.
Bill, bill, advertisement
. Nothing from University of West London. Worry knotted her stomach. All her other graduate school acceptance and rejection letters had come by now. She’d expected to hear word from them over three weeks ago.
“Hey, Evan, was this all the mail? Was there anything with the packages?” A part of her held on to that last thread of hope.
“Sorry, sweetheart. This is all of it.” Her boyfriend, Evan Peters, leaned against the doorjamb between the hallway and the dining room, still dripping from his run, creating little puddles of sweat on the floor. “You have some perfectly good schools to choose from. I don’t know why this one is so important to you.”
Abbie clenched her teeth and tried not to focus on the fact that, as usual, he didn’t support her choices. She also tried not to focus on the tiny puddles. Puddles she’d be expected to clean.
Instead, she focused on his face. Even covered in a sheen of sweat, he was still handsome—creamy café au lait skin, strong jaw, whiskey-brown eyes. His family was also wealthy enough to sway political turnouts. Her friends liked to remind her how lucky she was to have him.
If only they knew
.
“Look, I know. I need to make a decision, especially if I want to start in January, but I really wanted this program.” She inhaled sharply the moment she caught the look of displeasure in his eyes. “But you’re right.”
No he’s not.
“I’ll pick one. If London comes through, I can always pull my acceptance or something.”
He frowned, and Abbie braced herself.
Stupid
.
“Abena, it’s bad form to rescind an acceptance. Especially if it’s at a school where I pulled strings for you, like Georgetown or George Washington. Some dreams aren’t meant to come true. I mean, let’s face it, your photos are okay, but you’re not exactly doing gallery openings, are you?”
Abbie bit her tongue. As if she wouldn’t have been able to get into those schools on her own. As if his talking to a couple of professors had been the thing that made the admissions boards sit up and take notice. He’d only just graduated himself and was an associate with Walters and Logan, a big law firm in town. His family name might have pull, but he, himself, did not. She’d gotten in on her own merit.
But with practiced ease, she kept her thoughts to herself. “I know. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to do that. I’ll think about it carefully.”
He snatched up the hem of his sweat-sodden T-shirt and used the material to wipe his brow. The view of his six-pack and strong chest muscles should have had her salivating, should have had her begging to join him in the shower. Too bad she knew what was under the perfect façade. And it wasn’t pretty.
She wanted him to be supportive. She
wanted
him to believe in her. She wanted him to be who he pretended to be. But right now, mostly, she wanted him to get into the shower so he would stop dripping on her floor.
“I’m getting in the shower. What’s for lunch?”
Abbie swallowed. “I’m making chicken salad.”
He sighed, clearly unenthused, but headed off toward the shower anyway.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was pushing the dates for accepting an offer. Letters of acceptance into law programs from Georgetown, George Washington, John’s Hopkins, American University, and University of Maryland all beckoned to her in a neat stack. But she didn’t want to have to think about them. Evan had left them there purposefully, so that every time she walked through their dining room she’d have to see them. The spiteful part of her yearned to disorder the tiny pile. But she restrained herself.
Petty isn’t a good look
.
Only problem was, she didn’t
want
to be a lawyer. Sure, it was the natural choice in a family full of them. Both her parents were. Even her oldest sister Akosua was. Her middle sister, Ama, had broken the mold to go to medical school, but still it was a profession the whole family approved of. Not like Abbie’s passion, photography.
The University of West London had the best Masters of Photography program in the world. There, she’d have a chance to work with Xander Chase, one of the youngest, most renowned photographers in the world. He’d even exhibited at Hamilton’s in London.
Some dreams aren’t meant to come true.
Maybe Evan was right. Maybe London was just a pipe dream.
Unless you went on your own.
As quickly as the betraying, insidious thought popped into her head, she shuddered and quashed it. Going on her own wasn’t an option. She’d once tried to interview for a job in Los Angeles right out of college. The bruises he’d left on her body had made it very clear that she wasn’t going anywhere without him.
She’d been with him since she was sixteen, and he’d come to her school to talk about the benefits of NYU as a college. Even then, everyone had pointed out how lucky she was that a college guy was interested in her. That a
Peters
was interested in her.
Then why don’t I feel lucky?
Nobody saw what she saw. She’d made her bed and picked the wrong guy. He had his moments when he could be sweet, and she could forget what he was really like. But his temper was always at the forefront of her mind.
Although that didn’t stop her from wanting some freedom and wanting to do something other than what was expected.
Her phone rang in the kitchen, pulling her out of her reverie, and she raced to grab it, a smile tugging at her lips when she saw who it was on the caller ID. “Hey, Dad.”
“Abena, how are you?” Her father’s baritone voice with its accented English never failed to calm her down.
“Oh, I’m good. Just making some lunch.” She stalled, wondering what he was calling about. Neither of them was particularly skilled at small talk. A call from him was not the norm. They always relayed messages through her mother or via text. Nevertheless, she was happy to hear from him. “What’s up, Dad?”
He expelled a breath, as if happy to be able to cut to the chase and forego the social niceties of asking what she was making for lunch.
“I need the valuation papers for the condo. I’m trying to up the insurance, given the renovation we just did to the bathroom.”
“Sure, I’ll grab them.” She jogged into the study that Evan had taken over upon moving in and kept an ear out for the sound of the shower turning off. Once Evan was finished, he’d want to eat, so she needed to hurry up with lunch. “One sec, I have no idea what Evan’s filing process is.”
Quickly, she searched the stack of folders on the desk and found what her father was looking for. As she relayed the information, her gaze landed on the corner of an envelope peeking out from the desk drawer. A Queen Elizabeth stamp affixed on the thick paper.
“Thank you, Abena.” Her father hesitated. “Are you well? You sound off.”
Abbie sighed. His way of asking if she still thought she’d made the right choice by moving in with Evan. Her parents had been so against it. After all, in Ghanaian culture, it just wasn’t done. You only moved in with someone after you’d done a traditional engagement ceremony.
The mere thought of marriage made Abbie’s stomach clench. Not that Evan hadn’t hinted it was the next logical step. But every time she thought about it, it felt like someone was tying a noose around her neck.
“I’m fine, Dad,” she said as she tried to pull the drawer open. It didn’t budge.
“Have you selected a school yet?”
“Uhm…” Her voice trailed as she grabbed the letter opener and tried to slide it into the drawer to pop the latch. “I need to. I was hoping to hear from University of West London.”
Her father harrumphed. “A photography course does not qualify as school.”
Abbie could almost see him grumbling and pacing in his office. “Dad, actually, it does. The program is prestigious, and it’s at an accredited university.”
Her father’s accented voice pitched lower. “Abena, what do you think you’re going to do with a Masters in Photography? You’re
supposed
to go to law school.” Of course, to Ghanaian parents, the only appropriate professions and worthwhile educational pursuits included law, medicine, and engineering. He ignored the prick of pain his disappointment caused. She was used to it by now.
“Dad. You already have one daughter who’s a lawyer. Besides, with the photography, there’s a lot I’m planning to do. With a recommendation from my professor, opportunities in production would open for places like National Geographic and a career in documentary films.”
And she was sure a recommendation from Xander Chase
would
open those kinds of doors. But she didn’t care about those doors. What she was after was the apprentice position offered to his top student.
“Abena, you can’t put all your eggs into one basket. You have to have a backup plan.”
“I know. I know. I’ll be looking at all the offers tonight, and I’ll make a decision by the weekend.” She could only hope and pray that the acceptance came before then. She really only had two more days to stall.
The drawer opened with a splintering pop, and for a second, she was worried she’d broken it, but it slid smoothly on its grooves. Her father mentioned something about her sister, but Abbie had already tuned him out. She pulled out the envelope with its maroon stamp of the Queen, and her breath caught. With her blood rushing in her ears, she carefully scanned the return address.