Acknowledgments
I am grateful, thrilled and rather amazed to be penning the acknowledgments for the first novel of yet another exciting series, The Shady Sisters Trilogy. I can hardly believe it! When I started this journey less than ten short years ago I had three books in mind. Between me and my alter-ego BFF, Zuri, this is book number twenty-five! Time flies when we’re having fun, right? Well, I’m having a blast and while Spirit has blessed me with the gift to write, I didn’t reach this milestone alone. I’ve had help, lots of it, from more people than I can adequately name or this book can contain. There are a few, however, who I must recognize and give a special thank you for their huge participation in my literary journey to this point and beyond.
Selena James, my editor, angel, and dear friend. Thank you so much for allowing my voice to reach the masses, for entertaining my crazy story ideas and for being my partner in “rhyme” for most of the ride!
Natasha Kern, my agent, angel, and spiritual sister. Thanks for allowing this woo-woo chick the space to be herself, the room to share my wild and lofty dreams and the support and belief in knowing that they can all come true!
Kensington Publishing, my literary home. I am blessed to be a part of such a wonderful family. From the bottom of my heart and to all on Team Lutishia (sales and marketing, publicity, and amazing editorial) . . . thank you.
Kristine Mills-Noble, for the absolutely perfect cover. Girl . . . you did that!
Future movie makers, thank you for seeing the vision and helping to put these printed pages on the big screen!
To my literary sisters and brothers, you know who you are and you know what you do . . . lift me up on wings of encouragement, support, and mutual respect. To have gained such valuable friends in this business is an unexpected yet treasured blessing. I heart you all.
To my family, who have supported me from the time I kept company with imaginary friends as a child, until now. I love you more than there are stars in the sky!
Last but not least, Lovely readers. There are no words for how much you are loved and appreciated. Some of you have been with me from the beginning. Some just came on board with my last book. Others stumbled across me in the library. Still more were given a Lovely novel as part of a book club read. However it happened, I’m happy we’ve met, and delighted that after that first book you decided to continue with me on this incredible journey. Every reader who’s ever turned my page and spread the buzz by word of mouth, every book club who’s discussed a unique character or plot twist, every blogger or sponsor who’s mentioned my name in your post, everyone who’s had anything at all to do with my reaching book number twenty-five, I appreciate you more than that word means, and hope that all of you stay with me through, let’s see, twenty-five hundred more!
This one . . . is for you.
CHAPTER 1
“L
et’s toast to Jacqueline!”
A group of five fashionably dressed and vivacious women, seated in a trendy Toronto eatery, lifted their champagne flutes in the air. The atmosphere was festive. Even the April showers had paused, allowing bright, warm sunshine to surround them.
“To you, Jacqueline Tate,” Rosie, the speaker, continued. “A woman who has finally gotten what all of us want.”
“A good man?” The plus-size cutie with dimples and curves kept a straight face as she asked this.The others laughed.
“No, Kaitlyn, money. The next best thing.”
“Or the best thing,” Jacqueline countered, “depending on how you look at it.”
“We wish you tons of success on this new venture. Go get ’em, girl!”
“Cheers!”
The ladies clinked their glasses and took healthy sips of pricey bubbly before questions rang out.
“What, exactly, will you be doing?”
“Is this full-time or freelance?”
“How did you get this job?”
Jacqueline laughed as she raised her hands in mock surrender. “All right, already! I’ll tell you everything.” She took another sip of her drink, eyes shining with excitement. “First of all, it’s a freelance writing contract—but,” she continued when the other writer in the group moaned, “it’s for three months and . . . it’s with
Science Today
!”
“What’s that?” Kaitlyn asked, looking totally unimpressed.
“It’s the magazine for scientists like
Vogue
is for models,” Jacqueline replied.
Kaitlyn cocked a brow. “Really? That big, huh?”
“It’s a huge deal,” Molly, the other writer, commented. “Doing articles for such a prestigious journal will look great on the résumé.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful!” Rosie said. “Will you work from an office or from home?”
Jacqueline sat straighter, barely containing her excitement. “That’s the best part, guys. I’ll be spending most of this assignment in America, traveling to events and interviewing the movers and shakers in the science world.”
Kaitlyn reached for the champagne bottle. “Somehow ‘mover,’ ‘shaker,’ and ‘scientist’ sound weird in the same sentence.”
“That’s because your world revolves around Hollywood,” Jacqueline countered. “And you consider tabloids real reading and their content true fact.”
“It isn’t?”
This elicited more laughter from the group, and more questions. Finally, the successful-but-shy one in the group, Nicole, spoke up. “I’m really happy for you, Jacqueline. After what you’ve gone through, you deserve to have some good stuff come your way.”
It was true. Last year had been a doozy. On top of losing a high-paying job due to downsizing, she’d found out that the love of her life was someone else’s love too.Walked in on them in her house, in her bed. Guess he’d not counted on the fact that the interview she’d been called out to do might wrap up early. It did, and so did the relationship. They’d been dating for months. Jacqueline had even confided to her friends that he might be “the one.” The one to break her heart, maybe, but not the one for lifetime love.
Rosie sensed Jacqueline’s sadness, and placed a hand on her arm. “At least he’s out of your life.”
“I wish.”
Kaitlyn cringed. “He’s not?”
“Occasionally we’ll cover the same event. You guys remember that he’s a photographer, right?”
“I remember he’s a jerk,” Kaitlyn replied.
“And an asshole,” Molly added.
Jacqueline laughed, and it was genuine. “Thank you, guys. You sure know how to make a girl feel good.”
Kaitlyn peered at her friend of more than five years. She began shaking her head.
Jacqueline noticed. “What?”
“I don’t get it. You’re smart, funny, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in person.”
“Oh, girl . . .”
“Seriously? If it weren’t for you, I’d think those chicks posing on the magazine covers were make-believe.”
“They are,” Molly said. “It’s called Photoshop.”
“My point,” Kaitlyn continued, “is I can’t understand why you’re not married. I’m with my third husband and I look like a whale!”
Jacqueline frowned. “You do not. Stop exaggerating and putting yourself down like that.”
“That analogy may have gone a bit overboard. But I don’t look like you.”
No one would argue that Jacqueline was a natural beauty. Tall, slender, with creamy tan skin, long, thick hair and perfectly balanced features, she was often thought to be a model when out on assignment, and once had even been mistaken for the pop star Rihanna.
“Maybe Kaitlyn’s right,” Rosie offered. “Maybe in addition to finding great stories, you might find love.”
“Oh no. I’m not even going to think like that, and set myself up to be disappointed. I’m going to stay focused and disciplined, never forgetting the reasons for why I’m there. I’ll be going to some great places—LA, Vegas, New York—so, sure, I plan to have fun. But guys? Not interested.”
“You say that now.” Kaitlyn was obviously not convinced.
“True. Anything can happen. So if I do see a hottie and want a good time, I’ll view it as just that, a good time, nothing more. For me, when it comes to men and relationships, using words like ‘love’ and ‘forever’ only leads to a broken heart.”
Rosie gazed at Jacqueline with compassionate eyes. “You’ve been through a lot and you’re still smiling. You deserve to be happy and to find true love. I, for one, will be rooting for that happiness to come your way.”
Kaitlyn reached for the champagne bottle and, noting it empty, flagged down the waiter to bring another one. Already outspoken and boisterous, the bubbly loosened her tongue even further and made her talk more loudly. “I’m with you, Jacqueline,” she said, trying to further drain her already empty glass. “I say get wined, dined, and screwed out your mind, then tell the muthafuckas to kiss your ass. Don’t even give them your phone number if they can’t pass the shoe.”
Every face showed confusion. “The shoe?” Jacqueline asked.
“That’s right. The shoe. Y’all haven’t heard of that? It’s a test.” Noting her very interested audience, including some from surrounding tables, Kaitlyn lowered her voice as if she was about to drop secrets from Camp David. “Okay, here’s what you do. Have him take you out, buy you dinner, and then, after a night of partying, when he’s trying to get in the panties, take off your stiletto, pour a drink in the shoe, and tell him to drink it. If he can’t do that, then he’s not a coochie connoisseur.”
Ms. Shy, Nicole, was suddenly not shy at all. “A what?” When the waiter brought out the second bottle, hers was the first glass raised.
“Coochie con-no-sir. One who’ll lick it, kiss it, nip it, and flick it before he fucks it.”
Rosie’s cheeks turned as red as her hair. “Oh my,” she whispered with a hand to her mouth.
Molly pulled out her phone to take notes.
“Thanks anyway,” Jacqueline responded. “But the last man I’d give my phone number is one who’d drink out of my shoe. That’s just foul.”
“Whatever.” Kaitlyn’s countenance was one of pure confidence. “I’m just sayin’ . . .”
Jacqueline sat back and crossed her arms. “And you know this because?”
“Because when I met the man who drank out of my shoe? I married him!”
This comment sent the table into another vocal frenzy.
“You’re lying.”
“No, he didn’t!”
“Sounds like a wild and crazy date!”
“Geez! I’ll never look at good old Harry the same way again.”
Jacqueline sat back and took it all in. These were her girls; some she’d known for years and others a few months. Their sisterhood and support were genuine. Only one of her besties was missing. Kris. Her ride-or-die BFF who’d been there forever. She couldn’t wait to share this great piece of news with the main one who’d been beside her during both good times and bad.
“Okay, maybe asking him to sip from your heels is a bit extreme.”
You think?
Jacqueline’s raised brow seemed to imply.
“But there are still good men out there. I finally found one, though it took me three tries.”
“Evidently my radar on good men is in need of repair.”
“My mother always told me that when you meet him, you’ll know.” Kaitlyn sat back, thoughtful. “I have to admit, it wasn’t until Harry came along that I knew what she meant.”
Intrigued, Jacqueline eyed her. “How was he different?”
“It was natural, easy,” Kaitlyn said with a shrug. “He felt like an old shoe.”
“Ha! What is it with you and shoes?” Rosie asked.
Kaitlyn laughed. “I don’t know. Probably time for a new pair.” Her voice became serious as she looked at Jacqueline. “I didn’t have to try with Harry. I was just myself. He felt right, and good, from the beginning. That’s how I knew it. Maybe that’s how you’ll know it too.”
“Sounds easy, but again, with the bad luck I’ve been having, I’m just not sure.”
“I understand your being cautious. Just don’t shut totally down. Leave a little space in your heart open to love. A little light, so the right man can find it.”
They toasted to that and once the entrées arrived, the conversation moved around to other things. Later, however, Kaitlyn’s words still echoed. Jacqueline wanted to find love, really hoped that it would happen. But during this assignment and over the next three months, at least? She wouldn’t go looking for it.