Kissing Bree Read online

  Kissing Bree

  by

  JoMarie DeGioia

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Bailey Park Publishing at Smashwords

  Copyright © JoMarie DeGioia 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  ISBN: 978-1-944181-09-3

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Discover other books by JoMarie DeGioia

  Connect with me online

  Chapter 1

  Chapman Financial, Boston

  Derek Stone clicked through the docs on his laptop, searching for any possible bit of information that could hinder the upcoming deal. Bill Chapman, his boss of three years, was a hard ass and that was just one of the reasons Derek liked working for him. The pay was great and the challenges were real. He’d miss it. That was for sure.

  Satisfied that he’d dotted every I and crossed every T, he clicked the docs closed one at a time and turned to face the broad windows at his back. His stellar office at Chapman stood as if suspended over the city, and the spring sky was a bright blue dotted just right with clouds reflected in the windows of the skyscrapers surrounding it. For far from the first time he felt like he was floating. Floating through life, like his old man used to say.

  Bitterness bit at him but he pushed it down. He hadn’t given more than a passing thought to that drunk in years and he wasn’t going to spend time on him now. His father was a waste of air, and he was grateful that his mother had finally kicked him out last year. It had been Derek’s singular satisfaction to make sure that the divorce decree was unbreakable.

  His cell phone rang and he saw he had a call from his sister. Abby had been nagging him about his plans for months now, and he was happy he was able to give her good news today. Or the hopes for some good news at least. Picking up the phone, he swiped and answered.

  “Hey, Abby.”

  “Hey, big bro!”

  Her voice was bright and upbeat, which he was pleased to hear. He could also hear dogs barking in the background and knew she was calling from work. “What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you’ve made up your mind.”

  He stifled a grunt. “I have, and when I know the particulars I’ll let you know.”

  “I’m not one of your clients, Derek,” she teased. “Particulars aside, you don’t sound very happy about it.”

  “I’m not,” he said before he could stop himself.

  She sucked in an audible breath. “I thought we agreed.”

  “Yes, we did.” He took in a breath himself and slowly let it out. “We’re going forward with this and we’ll all be happy.”

  Abby laughed. “Wow. You really have to work on your words and tone, bro. It’s a good thing that you write so much at Chapman. At the speaking? You’re not so good.”

  He smiled in spite of himself. “Just tell Mom that we’ll have a place for her in the fall.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “Derek,” Bill Chapman boomed as he entered Derek’s office.

  Derek held up a hand to his boss. “Abby, we’ll talk later,” he said into the phone. “I promise.”

  A commotion sounded from his sister’s side of the call, people talking and more barking, and he figured he was saved from more of this conversation even before Bill had come in.

  “Call me tonight, Derek?” she asked.

  “Okay.” He disconnected and set his phone on the desk. “What can I do for you, Bill?”

  Bill held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

  Derek bit his tongue. Since when? His boss was never one to knock.

  “No worries. What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve looked over your proposal.” Bill settled in the chair opposite. “I’m not happy.”

  Derek sat and faced his boss. Bill Chapman was a big guy, tall and broad, and his hair was still dark and thick. His clothes were Brooks Brothers but his attitude would fit in just as well down at the docks. If Derek had to pick which side he most admired, he’d have a tough time of it.

  “What aren’t you happy about, exactly?”

  “You want to leave Chapman.”

  Derek kept his expression even. “Not precisely.”

  Bill blustered a little. “All right. In your words, in a lot of your words actually, you said you want the position down at Cypress Corners.”

  “I would be working for your son Rick,” Derek pointed out. “At the Sales Center. I’d be their in-house counsel.”

  Bill nodded. “Yes, and when Forbes at Cypress contacted me about the position you were the first person I thought of.”

  “Thank you.” Derek inclined his head. “Then what is the problem?”

  “It just feels like I keep losing people to Forbes.” A smile played over Bill’s mouth. “All of my children. Eli. Now, you.”

  Eli, his former colleague at Chapman, had moved down there permanently last fall and was now in charge of the Active Adult community. Eli had called him about it just a couple of weeks ago, since the two of them had gone on a scouting mission for Bill together a year ago. It was his call that made Derek’s decision all that much easier.

  “This is a good move for me, Bill.”

  “No argument there. It should be a cake-walk for you, too.”

  “I’ll be on retainer, if you’re still sure you want that. You’ll have my help on anything you need done, barring any conflict of interest.”

  Bill waved a hand. “Yes, I know. And damn right you’ll still be on retainer.”

  He felt Bill’s respect in that sharp retort. There was something eating his boss though, but Derek wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy. He wasn’t one to pry into the man’s affairs, either. There was palpable tension between Bill and his kids. He’d felt that when he’d been down in Cypress a year ago. He had his own family drama, didn’t he? He didn’t have to mix in with the Chapman stuff, whatever it was.

  “I’ll go down to Cypress and settle in. This won’t be forever.”

  Bill did smile then, wide and a little surprising. “You’ll never come back.” He stood. “None of you ever come back.”

  Derek let that one slide past him. “Then it’s a go?”

  Bill studied him, a decidedly paternal warmth in his gaze. “You’ve done great work for me, Derek. I have every faith that you’ll do the same for Forbes. For Rick. Hell, for Cypress.”

  Derek extended his hand and Bill took it, giving it a firm shake.

  “Thank you, Bill.”

  Bill released him and shook his head. “Don’t thank me just yet. You’ve only been down there once and for a very brief visit.”

  “That’s true. What are you saying?”

  “Cypress Corners is very different from Boston, Derek. From the Boston you and I know, anyway.”

  Derek didn’t think Bill’s Boston was anything like Derek’s, except on the surface. Private schools, privileged lifestyle? Yeah, Derek and Abby had all of that. Their family life held a nasty secret, th
ough. All of that serene polish of his parents’ marriage only just hid the blight that was his father’s true self.

  “I can deal with the tree-huggers, Bill.”

  Bill barked out a laugh. “Oh, of that I have no doubt. You’ll have to bring a different kind of work ethic to Cypress, though. And forget about burning the candle at both ends.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “You’re like me, Derek. Work is everything.”

  God, was that true? “I’ll adjust.”

  “Then have at them. I’ll tell Forbes to expect you next week.”

  “And I’ll forward what I’ve been working on to you. You can decide who’ll fill my shoes.”

  “Son, no one can fill your shoes.”

  With that little bit of folksy praise, Derek felt valued. Appreciated. Though he might not want to admit it, it felt good. For this next step, he’d need to carry this feeling down to Cypress Corners.

  God knew he’d need to keep his head in the game or lose his main objective. He would see his mother safe and well, and ready to start her own life at last.

  ***

  Cypress Corners, Florida

  Sabrina James hummed to herself as she took a tray of gooey chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. The table was set. The overhead lights and the pendants above the tall quartz counter cast a warm glow over the light wood cabinets and gleaming stainless appliances. The stage was set as well, and Bree knew that the intended audience would fall for this hook, line and sinker. It was Monday morning, a blessedly typical one for her, and the home was bright and light and ready to be viewed.

  “Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” she murmured, a smile on her lips.

  The Craftsman-style model home in the green neighborhood of Cypress Corners was ready-made for families of just about every incarnation. This particular section of the property took the community’s promise of sustainability and an eye to conservation to a new level. The architect and builder of these homes designed and built to specifications she’d never heard of before coming to work here.

  The sky was dark this morning, and spring showers were expected. Weather aside, she anticipated heavy foot traffic at the model after its being closed over the weekend. That alone was unusual for real estate sales, but in her year at Cypress she’d yet to find a flaw in the business plan they’d followed since Rick Chapman started at the Sales Center about five years earlier.

  This home’s open concept and wide plank floors would lend itself to amusements like family game nights or just thumbing through the channels on the huge flat screen TV hung above the stacked-stone fireplace. It was furnished with care. The linen-covered sofas and a comfortable dining set in the eat-in kitchen were situated just so.

  Bree’s friend and fellow salesperson Jessie at the Sales Center had staged it just right, too. Bree breathed in the scent of fresh-baked cookies and let out a sigh. She wore her usual Monday morning attire, a linen skirt paired with a smooth-as-silk shirt. Today’s top was sage green, and unbuttoned just enough in her opinion. A wide suede headband in the same color held her long hair back from her face and the sweet string of pearls around her neck matched the ones clinging to her earlobes.

  The jewelry was a throwback from the country club days of her teen years, but wearing them made her feel a little bit closer to her grandmother. The sweet woman had passed away a year ago, and had in fact spurred Bree’s pressing need for rebirth. She’d been in a holding pattern since getting out of college, and her grandmother’s bequeath to Bree made it possible for her to live her own life. She was twenty-six years old, after all. It was time for her to be…something. She’d started at Cypress last spring, but maybe this spring would give her the magic reboot she was hoping for.

  Sitting on over ten thousand sprawling acres, Cypress Corners encompassed some of the prettiest land in the region. From the moment she’d toured the place over a year ago, she’d been a goner. It was a wild and beautiful place, and it grabbed a hold of her with its promise of rebirth.

  It was unusual that more than half the land was set aside as a sanctuary for native plants and animals, and just maybe she would flourish here as well. The rest of the property was dedicated to expensive homes, retail stores, and award-winning recreational facilities. The picturesque town center and the many amenities made the sales aspect of her job a breeze, actually.

  She’d used part of her inheritance to buy a house here for herself, choosing one in the more densely populated villages rather than splurging on one fronting the pristine lakeshore. Her home was a Craftsman-style also, though much smaller than this model. With three bedrooms including a large master, it suited her. Her home really lacked furniture, though. And that hominess Jessie and her husband Noah’s home possessed. Bree was torn between heading up to Ikea or raiding her grandmother’s storage unit that had also been bequeathed to her. She’d yet to make a decision either way.

  As strange as it should be, this fake domesticity made her happy. She was marooned in this perfect house. Stationed in this perfect kitchen with sparkling quartz countertops and quirky yet unobtrusive decorations like small rustic milk pitchers and artfully-weathered tin canisters. Together it all presented a place where visitors felt welcomed and even seduced to stay a while.

  There were days when she felt like she was part of the window-dressing too, but she’d always been viewed as the pretty prop. The perfect daughter. The perfect girlfriend. The perfect mess, actually. Her grandmother had been the only one who hadn’t pushed her to be someone she wasn’t.

  She set the tray on the counter and slipped off the quilted oven mitt. This “living with the home” initiative was the brainchild of her boss, Rick Chapman. Actually, it was the developer’s baby, and Mr. Forbes instilled respect and dedication that she couldn’t ignore. She might be just a salesgirl, as her parents often said, but she was darn good at her job.

  Running her hands over the crisp cobalt blue dish towel, she tweaked it until it hung perfectly over the wall oven’s door handle. The alarm system chime dinged, signally that the front door had been opened. Turning with a practiced smile, she faced the newcomer standing in the entry.

  “Good morning, and welcome to the Spruce model,” she said.

  The tall, dark-haired man stopped short on the marble tiles, and from the raised eyebrows above his deep brown eyes she guessed he recognized her as much as she did him. His name was Derek something-or-other, and she remembered him as the guy from Chapman Financial who had come around on some clandestine assignment a year ago. He was as hot as she remembered, too.

  Broad shoulders stretched the buff dress shirt that seemed to have been tailormade for him. A silk tie the color of chocolate led her eye to his narrow waist. He looked like something out of a preppy catalog spread set in the Hamptons, down to the scruff showing on his chiseled jaw.

  The lack of a smile on his sculpted lips was familiar too. Tall, dark and gloomy was the nickname they’d all pinned on him then, and it seemed to still fit as well now as his pressed tan trousers did. The stormy weather outside seemed to fit his mood.

  “Hello.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his thick black waves. “I’m here to tour the model homes.”

  “I’m Bree James.” She stepped closer, holding out her hand. “I’m the salesperson currently assigned to the green neighborhood of Cypress Corners.”

  “Derek Stone.” He took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

  His voice was rumbly and warm, and quite unexpected given the cold rigidity stamped on his face. His patrician Boston accent was faint but there nonetheless. He continued to stare at her and goosebumps chased from their clasped hands up her arm. Her patrician-pale skin flushed and she guessed a blush now covered her face, too.

  Withdrawing from his grasp, she folded her hands in front of her. “What can I do for you?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Just give me the nickel tour.”

  She sensed something in his tone, a lack of
enthusiasm that really ticked her off. “Look, if you’re not interested I don’t understand why you stopped by.”

  He blinked at her. “I’m interested. I want to know about the materials and structure too, not just see the layout and staged rooms.”

  Ah, here was that entitlement she had developed a distaste for in her own upbringing. She placed her hands on her hips. “Then why not just talk to Noah Brady? He’s the builder here. Or maybe Ben Chapman?”

  The guy nodded. “The architect, yeah. He’s working on the Active Adult section too, isn’t he?”

  Bree’s lips thinned. “That isn’t for me to say. Why are you here again?”

  He seemed to remember something and a smile flitted over his face. Wow, he was something else when he smiled. His eyes warmed and her flush deepened. Reflexively, she took another half-step back.

  “Mr. Forbes sent me.” He arched one dark brow. “I’m the new in-house counsel for Cypress Corners.”

  She gaped at him. “You’re the new what now?”

  “In-house counsel. You know, the attorney hired by Mr. Forbes to serve the development?”

  “I thought they were bringing in an attorney from one of the big firms in Orlando.”

  He didn’t seem put out by her statement, or the least bit worried either. “That isn’t for me to say.”

  She shut her mouth with a snap. So he would throw her words back at her? He was a lawyer, after all. They traded in words, the more the better. That smile she’d glimpsed made a split-second reappearance and she sucked in a breath. Something about this guy just set off an alarm inside her. His dark, smoky eyes. His ridiculously-handsome face. His long, strong body.

  “Let me show you around and then you can get back to the Sales Center.”

  Both brows rose now. “Trying to get rid of me?”

  And now he was teasing her? She wanted a reboot, sure. A new life that was just her own. This guy was so not the new start she craved. He was your quintessential Type A, golf on Wednesdays, country club brunch on the weekends kind of guy. Been there, done that, finally off that hamster wheel.

  A crack of thunder shook the windows as the skies opened up with a downpour. So much for a typical Monday morning.