Table Of ContentKiss the Bride
DEIRDRE
MARTIN
CHRISTIE
RIDGWAY
LAURA
FLORAND
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents Title Page
Early Bird Special
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Weddings, Ink.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
EPILOGUE
All’s Fair in Love and Chocolate
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page
Early Bird Special
DEIRDRE MARTIN
CHAPTER ONE
“How was your flight, hon?”
“Fine.” Dana Fine squeezed her grandmother’s tiny hand. They were in West
Palm Beach Airport, waiting patiently for Dana’s bags.
Dana had suggested her grandmother sit down while Dana waited by the
luggage carousel, but Grandma Fine was having none of it. “I’m not an invalid,
you know.” Dana knew better than to push. If her eighty-year-old grandmother
wanted to stand next to her while the carousel mindlessly looped ’round and
’round, Dana wasn’t about to stop her.
Her grandmother was small but sturdy, her silver bob gleaming beneath the
airport’s fluorescent lights. Impatient, she pulled her glasses down to the end of
her nose, squinting at her watch. “Your grandfather must be having a conniption,
having to circle with the car.”
“I told you, it would have been easier if I just took a cab to your place,” Dana
reminded her gently.
“Waste of time and money,” her grandmother declared, patting her head to
make sure every hair was in place. “Besides, this gives me a little more time
with you.”
Dana was immediately swamped in guilt. She hadn’t been to Boca Raton to
see her grandparents in two years, because she was always traveling. As the
director of retail expansion for La Belle Femme, an upscale chain of boutiques
for women, her job took her all over the world. This year alone, she’d been to
London, Rome, and Geneva. She spent more time away than at home. She used
to deny this, until she was at a barbecue at her friend Suzanne’s house, and
Suzanne’s four-year-old daughter innocently asked, “Do you live on a plane?”
The question forced her to make a lifestyle evaluation, something she’d been
avoiding. She wasn’t going to lie: she had a great salary, a great wardrobe, and a
great, some might even say “exotic,” job. Unfortunately, she also had no
husband and no children. She told herself she was okay with that, until she found
herself starting to get teary holding her friends’ babies. That’s when she was
forced to admit she wanted a family sooner rather than later. There was just one
problem, and it was one she knew lots of women would kill to have: La Belle
Femme was planning to open a store in Paris. If they did, it would be Dana’s to
run.
Dana felt a nudge in her ribs. “That one’s gotta be yours.” While she’d been
daydreaming, everyone else who’d been on the flight had collected their
luggage. There was just one large, lonely Coach suitcase riding the carousel.
“All right,” she said to her grandmother, grabbing the bag the next time it
came ’round. “Let’s go find Grandpa.”
“Probably having a conniption,” her grandmother repeated.
Slowing her pace, Dana accompanied her grandmother outside. There, idling
in front of the steel and glass airport, was her grandfather’s taupe Lexus, the
trunk already popped. Dana threw her bag in the trunk and climbed into the
backseat.
“What the hell took you so long?”
Dana’s mood deflated, not because of her grandfather’s gruffness, but because
of the heat. She’d hoped he’d be blasting the air-conditioning, since walking out
of the airport was like entering a blindingly bright, palm tree–lined sauna.
Instead, the temperature in the car seemed warmer than the air outside.
“It didn’t take us long at all,” her grandmother countered, settling beside him
in the front seat. “If you’d just found a parking space and waited with me like I
told you, you wouldn’t have had to circle.”
Dana’s grandfather muttered something unintelligible under his breath before
smiling at Dana in the rearview mirror. “How’s my girl?”
“Good, Grandpa.”
“Good.”
Looking at her grandparents, Dana noticed the differences two years had
made: her grandfather, once a big, silver-haired bear of a man, looked a little
more stooped than last time. Both of their spines were a little more crooked, and
their age spots were bigger. The veins showing through tan hands were more
ropey and prominent. The wrinkles on their faces etched deeper. But none of that
mattered. They were who they’d always been: Grandma and Grandpa.
“How long have we got you for?” her grandfather asked, driving slowly down
Jog Road, the ruler-straight avenue that would take them to Huerto de Naranja,
the gated retirement community in Boca Raton where her grandparents lived.
Cars driven by young, rich professionals flew by theirs, the drivers flipping her
grandfather off. “Yeah, you go fuck yourselves, too!” her grandfather yelled.
“Idiots,” her grandmother said. “Better safe than sorry, I always say.”
“You’re goddamn right.” Her grandfather glanced at Dana again in the mirror.
“We were saying—?”
“I’m not here long,” said Dana, rummaging through her shoulder bag for some
water. She chugged it down like a woman who’d been staggering through the
desert for days. Thirst quenched, she sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Actually,
I’m not completely sure. Three weeks, tops.”
Her grandfather shook his head, prompting Dana’s guilt to return. “Is it worth
it? All this hopping around you do for your job? You look tired.”
“Leave her alone, Sam,” her grandmother said sharply.
“Who’s bothering her?”
“C’mon, you guys.” Dana leaned forward between the front seats, squeezing
both of their shoulders. “No time for bickering. I’m just glad I’m here.”
Her grandmother grinned. “So are we, doll.” She turned to her husband.
“Staying with us rather than at the Four Seasons in Palm Beach,” she marveled.
“Can you beat that?”
Her grandfather smiled happily. “Of course she is.”
Dana leaned back again, feeling mildly groggy. She decided to be grateful for
the small things: her grandfather would never acknowledge a request to turn up
the AC, but at least he wasn’t a horrible driver.
She closed her eyes, since there was really nothing to see apart from identical
shopping centers, most of them boasting the same set of stores: a Publix
supermarket, a Subway, a Rite Aid, and a bank. Sometimes you’d spot the
occasional deli. That was it.
She was surprised by how short the ride was. No sooner was she on the cusp
of sleep than they were driving through the condo community’s gates and
parking the car in its reserved spot.
Dana stepped out of the car, thankful she was wearing her sunglasses as the
bright sun beat down. Good old Huerto de Naranja, she thought, where every
condo unit and semidetached house looked exactly the same. Same stucco walls,
same adobe-tiled roof, same immaculately manicured flowers and plants lining
the front walk. Nothing had changed since the last time she was here. But
somehow, there was comfort in that.
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning, Dana awakened at the crack of dawn to go running. She used
the term “awakened” loosely; to be honest, she hadn’t slept much. Her
grandparents kept their condo warm enough to hatch chicks. Somewhere around
three A.M., Dana had crept out of her bedroom and turned the thermostat down
just a tiny bit. But an hour later, her room began sweltering again, and she knew
one of them had inched it back up. It would be an unspoken battle for the length
of her stay.
Once again, Florida’s summer humidity smacked her in the face as she set off,
making a point of remembering both her grandparents’ address and the color of
the car next to theirs. That way, she’d be able to find her way back if she got lost
among the identical buildings on the identical streets. “I don’t know why they
chose to live there,” Dana’s mother had sniffed disdainfully when her parents
left Manhattan for Boca. “It’s like being dead when you’re still alive.”
Jogging down the silent streets, Dana wasn’t so sure she agreed. What was
wrong with wanting to be somewhere safe where there was beautiful weather all
year-round? Or living within walking distance of your friends, whom you could
hang out with all day long? Her grandparents seemed happy. Who was her
mother to judge?
At any rate, Dana was glad to have a few days to herself before she had to
start interviewing for the Palm Beach store. She remembered when she used to
find her job interesting. Now she found it tedious, except when she thought
about Paris.
After an hour of doing laps, dawn had become more insistent, and Dana,
coated in a thick sheen of sweat, started back to the condo. She was the only
person out except for some tan, well-built guy in a muscle shirt, work boots, and
battered blue jeans, staring intently at a line of azalea bushes as if they were a
work of art. Dana made a U-turn the minute she saw him. She had no ID on her,
no cell, no rape whistle. He was probably one of the maintenance crew, but still,
she felt safer steering clear of him. You never knew.
By four that afternoon, Dana was no longer certain that choosing to spend the
entire day with her grandmother had been such a good idea. So far, they’d spent
the morning hours sitting by the clubhouse pool, where she’d been the only one
