Sara's Song (6 page)

She sucked in a breath and felt the tears coming as her eyes began to water. “Yes!” She nodded and fell into his arms. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

Clay kissed her, and she knew....

Sara Renee Robbins—formerly Bronson—had finally found
her
song.

*I hope you enjoyed
Sara’s Song
, a short novella in the
Crazy For You
world. If you enjoyed this book, please think about leaving a review at
Amazon
or your favorite online retailer. Please turn the page for a sneak peek of
Trading Up
by Sandra Edwards. If you haven’t read
Crazy For You
, see the excerpt following
Trading Up
.*

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TRADING UP

by

Sandra Edwards

CHAPTER 1

H
ad it really been ten years? Tiffany Pearson took a long, hard look at the invitation to her high school reunion before dropping it, letting it fall to her desk. God, she felt old.

She sighed and swallowed hard as the warning “you can’t go home again” blew through her thoughts.
Who wants to anyway
?

“Humph…” she muttered out loud, tapping her orange fingernails against the desktop. She didn’t need this distraction. She had more important things on her plate.

As a top-level executive of Tinsel Town, a national video rental chain, Tiffany’s focus was the highly sought after director’s position for an upcoming I.T. project. As far as she knew, she was in the top-running spot. But pleasing Peter Hayes, the west coast GM, would take perseverance and a tremendous amount of forethought if she wanted to stay one step ahead of his determination to trip up the candidates.

She all but had this one in the bag though. If she got the job and pulled it off—which she knew she could—she’d be able to write her own ticket.

That was her ultimate goal. Her odds were far better when focusing on a career, rather than love. She’d done that once and it hadn’t turned out well.

Most of her friends were like moths returning to the light, getting burned over and over. But not Tiffany. She only tolerated friends with benefits
these days. She’d vowed a long time ago never to wear her heart on her sleeve again. Not since that idiot Scott had showed up to their wedding, announcing that he’d married the stripper from the bachelor party instead.

Scott was the reason she shuddered at the thought of attending the reunion. He was the last person she wanted to talk about, or worse yet—see.

Driftwood, California, was a small town; one she couldn’t get away from fast enough eight years ago when Scott disgraced her. The idea of returning, even for a visit, dredged up a lot of bad memories, and offered a ton of resolve to stay away.

Tap
…
tap
…
tap
. The delicate knock at the office door invaded Tiffany’s thoughts. She glanced up, half-expecting to see Jennie standing in the doorway, none too surprised when she did.

“Want to do lunch?” Jennie asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Sounds great.” Tiffany glimpsed at her watch. 10:30. “Give me an hour?”

“What are you studying so hard?” Jennie entered the room and eased down on the edge of Tiffany’s desk. Her brown-eyes canvassed the desktop and froze on the invitation. She picked up the card and a slight smirk formed on her lips. “What’s this?” Jennie asked with a thick giggle.

“Junk mail,” Tiffany said, letting her gaze drift to the window.

It took all of two seconds for Jennie’s smile to fade, indicating she’d made the connection between the upcoming high school reunion and the elusive scoundrel of an ex-fiancé.

“Are you going?” Jennie asked, waving the invitation.

“Are you kidding?” Tiffany snorted. “There’s not a chance in hell of that happening.”

“Why not? You’re successful. You’ve got money to burn. Everyone there will be so jealous.”

“In Driftwood, success is measured by the strength of your marriage.”

“And you think someone’s wife will be considered more successful than you?”

Tiffany nodded.

“I doubt she’ll think so.” Jennie stood and strolled toward the door. “She might like driving your Beamer better than some old dipshit.”

“Maybe she’s got her own Beamer.”

“Maybe so.” Jennie paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “But yours doesn’t come equipped with a dipshit.”

Tiffany chuckled, shaking her head. It was just like Jennie to find the humor in even the most dire situations.

L
ucky’s was the local hotspot for lunch. Conveniently located just across the street, it was quick and served great food.

Jennie had gotten tied up at work, so Tiffany went ahead and ordered their lunches. While she waited, she munched on tortilla chips and sipped on a glass of artificially sweetened iced tea. The upcoming high-school reunion tried to invade her thoughts and she struggled to push the unwanted feelings aside. She would love to go, to see everyone, but she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone mentioning Scott’s breach of promise.

Jennie approached the booth, pulling Tiffany out of the hole she was starting to wallow in. She thanked her silently, but outwardly flashed her a practiced smile. Jennie slid into the seat across from Tiffany. Her smile was starting to look a lot like the cat that ate the canary.

“What are you up to?” Tiffany asked.

“I have the perfect solution for you.” There was too much confidence in her tone. She was up to something.

“I need a solution?”

“Since marriage, as you say, is the root of all success in your hometown…you need a husband.”

“And where do you suggest I find one of those?” Tiffany asked. “The reunion is weekend after next.”

“Buy one.”

“Buy one,” Tiffany repeated her words, but with far less certainty than her friend had said them. “And where again is that shop located?”

“You poke fun if you want.” She pulled a brochure out of her purse. “There’s a buyer’s market for anything. You just have to know where to look.”

“I think they call those escort services.” Tiffany tried to suppress the urge to giggle. “I’m not in the market for a guy who’ll probably be recognized by half the class’s female population.”

“Good one.” Jennie laughed and unfolded the pamphlet in front of Tiffany. “Pick one,” she said with an encouraging nod. “No one’s going to recognize these guys. They’re all from Tampa.”

“You got me a male escort from Florida?”

“Cute.” Jennie was undaunted by Tiffany’s jokes. “These are Tinsel Town employees from the corporate office in Tampa.”

Tiffany dug for an ink pen inside her purse. Finding one, she went to work scribbling a crude map of the United States on her napkin. She turned her masterpiece around to face Jennie and pointed out certain features to her friend. “This is California, which is where we live. Here in San Francisco.” She tapped her orange fingernail on the makeshift map to let it sink in. Tracing the pen across the napkin, she stopped on a rudimentary likeness of Florida. “And Tampa is way down here. How do you propose we get him from here…to here?”

“They’re coming here for the charity auction next week.” Jennie settled back against her seat and pretzeled her arms over her chest.

“The charity auction…isn’t that like a glorified dating service?” Tiffany made no move to hide her distaste of the practice.

“One that you’d better get used to.”

“Why? You saying I can’t get a date?”

“I’m saying if you want that promotion, and any others in the future…you’d better get used to being a team player.”

The waitress brought their meals—a burger for Jennie and a chicken club for Tiffany—and Jennie stopped talking while the plates were placed in front of them. Once the server was well out of earshot, Jennie said, “I’m just saying, you’d better be prepared to partake in all of Corporate’s hokey events.”

Tiffany felt her face relax. Jennie had a point, and Tiffany was starting to see where Jennie was going with her proposal. Finally, she gave the pamphlet a closer look. To her surprise, there were a few hotties up for grabs.

“You need a temporary hubby,” Jennie coaxed her. “Let Corporate provide the way.”

It was the perfect plan, really. Tiffany could go to the reunion on the arm of
Mr. Sexy
himself, thereby saving face. In a matter of a single weekend she could finally turn the tables on Scott Bishop. Now he’d be the laughing stock once everyone caught of glimpse of Tiffany’s
husband
. All would concur, she’d definitely traded up.

Just as she was about to buy into the whole elaborate scheme, she came to her senses. Shaking her head, she said, “It’ll never work.”

“Of course it will. It’s perfect.” Jennie dragged her fingers through her brunette hair with an enormous amount of confidence. “You buy him Thursday evening, and he’s yours to do with what you will until Monday morning. Who knows…you might even get laid.”

“Jennie!” Tiffany objected with a mischievous snort.

“Well, if you’re going to ask the man to pretend to be your husband, all for the sake of saving face at your high school reunion, he’s probably going to want to exercise his conjugal rights.”

Tiffany froze for a moment, considering Jennie’s suggestion. She snapped up the brochure and inspected the bachelors with a closer look. “We’d better make sure I get a good-looking one then.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. Since
this was your idea, I’m sure you’ll want to help finance this little project.”

“What do you think that corporate credit card they gave you is for?”

Good one. Tiffany hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, look…” She pointed out a devilishly-handsome guy with dark hair and eyes to match. “He’s cute.”

“Cute.” Jennie’s sharp laughter echoed through the air. “You call that guy cute? He’s so smokin’ hot, it’s a sin.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Buy him. It’ll drive dipshit crazy.”

“Suppose I did buy him.” Tiffany looked at Jennie, feeling a little apprehensive. “Why would he go along with this crazy scheme?”

“Oh, he’ll go along with it.” Jennie nodded with confidence. “He’ll do it because guys will do anything if they think there’s a chance they’re going to get laid.”

“I really think you’re over-estimating the power that sits between my legs,” Tiffany said. “You said it yourself…he’s too good-looking. I’m sure women throw themselves at him on a daily basis.”

“Hourly’s probably more accurate.”

“Then it’s hopeless.”

“You’ve never had any trouble turning heads.” Jennie shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

*I hope you enjoyed this excerpt of
Trading Up
. If you’d like to read the book in its entirety, it’s available on
Kindle
and
Nook
, or check with your favorite online retailer for availability. Please turn the page for an excerpt of
Crazy For You
.*

CRAZY FOR YOU

by

Sandra Edwards

PROLOGUE

1988

New York City

T
he interview
wasn’t going well. Not from Roxanne’s point of view. She knew Lauren Weber’s reputation as a talk show host. In a word, barracuda said it all. This came as no surprise to Roxanne and now she wondered how she’d ever been talked into this.

If Lauren’s guest had anything to hide, she had a way of tempting those skeletons out of the closet. And Roxanne had plenty to hide. Plenty that could tarnish her public image of sweet and innocent.

This is all Walt’s fault
. Roxanne’s publicist had convinced her it would be good publicity for the new movie. Initially, his argument had been a good one: Lauren Weber was the most popular talk show host around, and this would be a nice plug for the new movie since millions of people would see the clips.

Walt had been adamant, so reluctantly, and against her better judgment, she’d agreed to let America’s favorite talk show host interview the renowned authoress-actress Roxanne Simon.

“What can you tell us about Garrett-Hollander?” Lauren’s questioning voice brought Roxanne back to reality.

She didn’t falter at the mention of the ever-popular rock band. “Well…” Roxanne said, “I don’t know what I could tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Isn’t it true that you and your sister Candy knew them when they were nobody?”

“I’ve never thought of Frank or Rich as nobody.”

“Isn’t Frank Garrett the father of your son?”

The audience reacted with a mixture of gasps and whispers.

Roxanne laughed skeptically. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, his name
is
Frankie.”

“Frank is my father’s name,” Roxanne said with all the repose expected of someone with two Best Actress Oscars under her belt.

Lauren took on one of those looks that said she knew she was getting nowhere. But Roxanne wasn’t falling for that. Lauren Weber was regrouping. And Roxanne Simon would be ready.

“Your latest movie,” Lauren said, changing the subject, “Bad Company was released last week and it’s doing well at the box office.” She paused briefly, allowing the audience time for applause. “And rumor has it that it’ll be nominated for multiple Academy Awards.”

“Well…I think it’s a little early to be supposing about the Oscars,” Roxanne declared.

“You’re no stranger to the Oscars,” Lauren said. “You’ve won awards before. Aren’t you getting used to collecting them by now?”

“I’ll never get so used to it that I’ll take something like that for granted,” Roxanne said meekly of the Oscars. “I’m always grateful for any recognition of my work.”

Roxanne was surprised at how cool she’d managed to remain. Lauren had invaded territory that was better left alone. Territory known for bringing out Roxanne’s weaknesses.

“What’s next?” Lauren’s voice remained casual.

“A vacation,” Roxanne said, and dropped it at that. The time had not come for the public to know she’d started working on her autobiography.