Save the Date (Modern Arrangements)

ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright
2013 Sadie Grubor
Cover Art by VST

This
book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means
without written permission from the publisher. Contact Author at
[email protected]
.

This
book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or
actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the
author's imagination and used fictitiously.

Dedication &
Special Thanks:

To
my husband, as always, thank you for putting up with the neglect while I spend
time with my many characters and laptops.

Special
thanks to
:

-M
y
work
wife – Glenda – for taking the early journey into this story with me.

-My
mother for always making me feel like I can accomplish anything.

-Monica,
thank you, thank you, thank you. As always, you make my words read so much
better.

Blurb

AIDAN IVERSON III, old money wealthy and blatant
playboy, has never felt the need to be with one woman. Why, when he has the
looks, money and a family name to rule the nightlife? And, when it thoroughly
aggravates Grandfather?

LILLIAN SNOWE, do-it-yourself overachiever, has a
plan to keep her father healthy and living in the home where he raised her.
But, how can she, when the hospital bills are piling up, the bank wants their
money and she is hundreds of miles away from home?

From the moment they meet, Aidan would have to be
blind not to feel an attraction, especially with Lilli's work attire and feisty
humor.

When illness, death, debt and a mutual friend, bring
these two together, feelings are hurt and someone is insulted. It takes
determination, sneaky actions and cockiness to secure the deal. But, even with
an iron clad marriage agreement and pre-nup in place, there are those who would
seek to destroy the spark threatening to engulf our couple in a happily ever
after.

So,
Save the Date
, because you are cordially
invited to the seduction of Lilli Snowe.

Prologue

Growing up in New York is just like
growing up anywhere else, but growing up an Iverson in New York, was not
something most could relate to. As an Iverson, there were as many open doors as
there were open hands.

My grandfather, Aidan Iverson Senior, started
AIS while married to his first wife, Isobel.  After her death, even after
remarrying, he built AIS into a multibillion-dollar company. My father, Aidan
II, only child from Grandfather’s first marriage, and my uncles, Liam and Henry,
worked vigorously at AIS. They learned everything from Grandfather, becoming
executives in the company. Father, being the
golden son,
was second only
to Grandfather.

Grandfather often preached of love,
marriage and Iverson heirs. It was beaten into my head for as long as I could
remember. Being the third Aidan Iverson and the male heir to the
golden son
,
I was an instant commodity to grandfather. He never hid his favoritism, often
creating tension within the family. Where my father reveled in the favoritism, I
didn’t enjoy the backlash.

One evening, while I stayed with my
grandparents, my parents attended an AIS sponsored charity event. The police
arrived to my grandparents’ home at an ungodly hour. I remember coming down the
large staircase of my grandfather’s Manhattan mansion seeing Grandma Olivia
collapsed in a chair sobbing and watching my grandfather cry for the first, and
only, time in my life. That was the night my parents were murdered. I was ten.

My parents, Aidan and Eliza Iverson, had
arrived at the townhouse we lived in, only to be greeted by what the police
believed was a robbery. Both of my parents were shot, but not before they were
forced to open the home safe, and not before they abused my mother.

The grief that washed over the family
after that night was detrimental.  Grandfather became colder and more adamant
about family loyalty and heirs. Where morning conversation would fill the
breakfast table, now there was silence. Every time Grandfather’s eyes landed on
me his brow would furrow and a scowl would form. As a ten year old orphan, it
felt as if he hated me.

Each day that passed without finding the
people responsible for my parent's death, became one more Grandfather grew
harder and pulled further away from the family. Uncle Liam and Henry took over daily
operation of the company and tried to run things on their own. It was four
months before they located the group of former AIS employees who committed the
crime.

Grandfather was never the same. The
media’s attention and coverage of everything played a part in keeping his
demeanor in the cold zone. When Grandfather finally resumed lead chair of the
company, I was taken in by Uncle Liam and his wife Viola. Vi was pregnant at
the time and due at any moment with a baby girl.

Maggie arrived ten days after I moved
into their Manhattan home. It was after her birth that my grandfather started showering
his full attention on me, his
golden boy
or
prodigal son
.

Aunt Viola raising me was a blessing. Never
overbearing, I respected Liam and Vi very much and still do. They also gave me
something I'd never known before – a true love and passion for each other. My
parents had appeared to love each other, but it was never blatant. Viola and
Liam were much different. They were openly affectionate and genuine. Their love
spilled over onto Maggie and me.

Since I'm an Iverson, I was subjected to
private school, chauffer, body guard and an obscene amount of power. Every
person in my grade school had a chauffeur and house help. The best thing to
come from school, besides education, was Oscar Emerson.

Oscar came from a very wealthy Texan
family; his father and uncles owning multimillion dollar oil companies and
refineries. Since Oscar was from a socially acceptable family, Grandfather
embraced the friendship. We played baseball together, baseball being the one
extracurricular activity my family enjoyed. When Grandfather found time he
would join us or take us to a game.

High school was the beginning of the
rebellious years, much to the dismay of Grandfather. I lived up to the family
obligations with the company and social events. However, I often did
unacceptable things and definitely multiple unacceptable women. College brought
out similar behavior, but also brought my cousin, James, and I closer.

James Iverson was the only son of Uncle
Henry and Aunt Anne. He was also the
shame
of the family, at least in Grandfather’s
eyes. James worked in the pharmaceutical area of the company. He was a cocky
bastard but he was loyal and I loved him.

College life also introduced me to Dixon
Haywood. He was one hell of a sports player; football, baseball and wrestling.
He was huge and overwhelming for most people. What most didn’t know is that
Dixon was a nothing but a jokester and a great guy.

After College I took my place next to Grandfather
and worked endless hours at his side. He was adamant that I learn and be a part
of everything, something which thoroughly infuriated Uncle Henry.

My life was planned by Grandfather. 
Except for my personal life, where he didn’t have the same control. We fought
about it endlessly. He even went as far as to set up meetings with prominent
girls in our social circle, attempting to make me a one woman man with a
purposeful
relationship. When I would bed these girls and leave them, Grandfather finally
gave up. Though, he never held back his disapproval.

I followed his business plan. The rest
of
my
life is
mine
.

Chapter One
Memories
Aidan

Hearing my phone ring on a Saturday
morning, I looked up to the nightstand clock. Nine in the damn morning was not a
welcome wakeup time. I groaned and reached for my phone.

"Hello," my greeting muffled
by a pillow.

"Are you still fucking
sleeping?" Oscar barked. "Christ, Aidan, it’s after nine in the
morning."

"You’re the one that had me out all
night." I rolled over to my back, rubbing my face.

"Well get your ass up! We are
playing some ball today and you need to join us, so wake the hell up and meet
me outside of your building in thirty minutes," he ordered.

"Who is us?" I asked quickly
before he hung up.

"A couple of the guys and a few I
work with," he answered. "Now, get your ass moving. You have thirty
minutes!" The phone went silent.

I groaned and headed to the bathroom.
After taking a five-minute shower, long enough to rinse off and scrub some
shampoo through my overgrown hair, I got dressed and went to the kitchen, grabbing
a banana and some milk. I ate fast and chugged.

My cell phone pinged. Oscar.

I’m waiting.

What a little bitch
.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my glove and cleats and headed out the door.

We arrived to the field and were greeted
by familiar faces, including James. I was completely caught off guard when a
large familiar guy appeared in the group.

"Dixon Haywood?" I grinned.

"Well if it isn’t Aidan
fuck-em-n-leave-em Iverson!" He laughed.

"What are you doing here?" We
clasped hands and shook. He was still as strong as ever.

"I work with this pussy over
here," he pointed to Oscar.

"You’re a doctor?"

"Nope," he smiled widely.
"I’m a nurse."

"Well, I didn’t see that one
coming," I chuckled. "Get much shit for that?"

"Nah, I’m scary," he wiggled
his brows. "Alright, bitches, it’s time to pulverize the other team."
He waved for us to follow him out onto the field.

It was good to see Dixon again. We had
lost track of each other after college. Once we beat the other team pretty
decently, we sat around on benches drinking beer and catching up. Seems that
Dixon had thought about becoming a doctor but, when he realized how much the
nursing field could use a man his size and how much he loved doing it, he just
went with it. I was envious of Oscar and Dixon; they got to choose their careers,
their lives. They weren’t burdened with being an Iverson.

"Hey, we’re out of beer,"
Dixon frowned. "We should head to my place and watch the game. I’ve got
plenty of beer there," he smiled and then looked at us for a response.

"Aidan?" Oscar raised his
eyebrow to me.

"I think that I need a shower
before I go anywhere," I laughed.

"Oh hell, you can shower at my
place if you are that concerned about it," he grinned widely.

"What the hell," I shrugged
and got up.

Oscar and I climbed into his car. Dixon
led the way in his Jeep. We pulled up to a decent apartment building. Nothing
like what Oscar and I had, but that was because of our family’s money. Dixon
didn’t come from that kind of life. I could hear music before Dixon opened the
door.

"Loud neighbors?"

He chuckled.

"Nope. My roomie." He opened
the door and the music was blaring.

Dixon dropped his things by the door and
we followed suit. The place was actually a lot nicer than it looked from the
outside. Once we were in further, Oscar and I stopped in our tracks. A petite
dark haired girl—wearing a tight blue t-shirt and tiny pair of sweat-shorts—
danced around a small kitchen, singing loudly.  The sight of her white socks,
the kind with the stripes around the tops, made me smile wider. The kitchen was
open to the living room, so you could easily see everything as soon as you
walked through the door.