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Camden (The Casanova Club Book 13) Page 16

I had the power to spare my parents a miserable future, and I would not squander it. When the thirty-first rolled around, I would keep my chin up, and I would do what needed to be done for the sake of my parents and my brother. They were the people who’d earned my loyalty.

  Love was a luxury.

  And even though I knew there was a man amongst the twelve who would complete me, who would challenge me, who would make me stronger, and who would see me through the darkest times of my life that still lay ahead, I would not choose him.

  I would forsake him for the money.

  And I would do whatever it took afterward to clear my conscience and move forward.

  Extended

  Piper

  December 31st, 2019

  The chair beneath me creaked when I sat down. It was made of dark cherry oak and had a dark green upholstered seat and back. The fabric had gold leaves on it, and it was quite elegant. It paired nicely with the room I was in, rich wood walls, a bold fireplace crackling to the left, bookcases all around. It was a luxurious study, and everything seemed perfectly in place.

  Except for the wall across from me, which was set with a two-way mirror. Through the mirror, in the room beside the study, was a simple room bare of any furniture.

  Across from me, sitting in front of the mirror, was Jackson Lee.

  He had one leg crossed over the other, and he was smiling pleasantly at me. Between us was a low coffee table with gold legs and a marble top. In the center was a wooden tray, upon which rested a single-stem white rose and a blank envelope.

  There were two glasses of water on the table. Jackson’s was half gone. I’d yet to touch mine.

  “So, Piper,” Jackson said, his pleasant smile still plastered to his lips. “Tell me about the year you had.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Did you fall in love?” he asked, leaning forward and waggling his eyebrows.

  I’d learned half an hour before arriving for this meeting with Jackson Lee that our conversation would be recorded for audio and video. The video would not be released to the public, but there was a chance the audio might go out as a podcast or for a radio show. Jackson wasn’t sure yet, but he’d warned me, and such things were noted in the contract I’d already signed.

  So here I was, potentially baring my soul to all who wanted to listen.

  We were too close to the end for me to bother lying.

  “Yes,” I said in answer to his question. “Yes, I fell in love.”

  Jackson’s smile broadened, and I had the sense he was genuinely happy for me. “That’s wonderful news. Did it surprise you? That you fell for someone?”

  Someone? Singular? I wished.

  “Yes. I thought this experience would be easier. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

  “It sounds to me like someone is a little confused.”

  “I am,” I admitted. “I didn’t expect to fall for anyone. And here I am, torn between all my feelings and what I know I must do.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Are you in love with more than one of these men, Piper?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know.”

  “That sounds difficult.”

  I hated this format. I hated that he was treating me like an interview subject. I knew it wasn’t personal and that it was all part of the process, but still, I didn’t like it.

  I ran my hands down my thigh. “How long is this interview?”

  “Eager to be done with it all?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Jackson chuckled. It wasn’t a jab at me. It sounded more like understanding in my ears. “Very well. We’ll bring the men in.”

  “In?”

  Before Jackson had a chance to answer, the room on the other side of the two-way mirror filled up with men. My men. All twelve of them.

  “Now, Piper,” Jackson said, ignoring the movement behind him and fixing me under his stare. “The men can’t see you. But you can see them. This is your chance to make your decision. If you have any last-minute questions for them, now is the time to ask. And they must answer.”

  Questions didn’t matter anymore.

  “Is there anything you’d like to ask any of them?” Jackson asked.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? We have time if you—”

  “I’m sure.”

  “So you know what you would like to do? Even though you’ve fallen in love with more than just one of the men behind me, you know the choice you’re going to make?”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  “Very well,” Jackson said. He gestured at the table. “Before you is a rose and an envelope. In the envelope is a check for a million dollars. As you know, if you choose to forgo a proposal, you may opt for the cash instead. We cover the taxes. The million dollars is yours to take home. Now, if you choose to marry one of these men, you need only pick up the rose and tell me his name. We’ll separate the men and bring you to him so the two of you may have your moment in privacy. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “No.” Let’s just get on with this.

  “Excellent.” Jackson smiled. He had no clue what was coming. He gestured once more at the table. “Make your decision, Piper.”

  I stared at the envelope and the rose on the wooden tray and inched to the very edge of my seat. The rose was beautiful. The petals were full and soft looking. Beads of moisture clung to them, and I imagined it might have been cut just moments prior to my arrival.

  The envelope was as crisp and white as the flower petals. It called out to me, promising stability and freedom. Promising a future free from the strain of financial stress. A future that was bright with hope and comfort for me and my family.

  The future I’d been aching to give them all year.

  Jackson watched me like a hawk. The weight of my decision pressed down upon my shoulders as I lifted my hand from my lap and reached out.

  My gaze flicked up. Not to Jackson, but past him, to the lineup of men on the other side. I looked down the length of them, studying the familiar lines of their handsome faces and the brightness of their eyes. They had hope, too. Just like me.

  But they were hopeful for love and for a future of their own.

  Of our own.

  I reached for the envelope.

  Jackson shifted in his chair.

  My hand stilled above the white paper when my eyes fell upon the last man in the lineup. He was the only one looking at the mirror, and for a moment, I thought he was looking right at me. Then I realized I was wrong. He just happened to be looking in my direction.

  His stare was intense. Focused. His shoulders were stiff, and his jaw flexed when he swallowed. I saw his chest swell as he took a deep breath, and then he smiled.

  I pulled back.

  I knew he wasn’t smiling at me. That was insane. Because he couldn’t see me. But he was definitely smiling, and his eyes were warm. The tension had left his body, and his lips formed words that parted the clouds closing in around my heart.

  I love you, Piper.

  My vision blurred with tears.

  “Piper?” Jackson asked tentatively. “Do you need some time alone to think?”

  I stared at the dark-haired man at the end of the line. My man. The man I knew was mine since the moment I’d left him at the end of our month. The man who’d left more of an impression on me than all the others.

  The man I’d have given everything to save. To love. To cherish.

  His brown eyes fell closed, and he drew another deep breath.

  I looked at the rose. It dared me to pick it up as Camden’s words rang in my ears.

  You must choose the man who makes you happy. Promise me you’ll do that.

  I gritted my teeth. “I promise.”

  “What?” Jackson asked.

  I ignored him.

  Reached out.

  Closed my finge
rs around the stem.

  And exhaled.

  “I promise,” I said again.

  The End

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  About the Author

  Ali Parker is a full-time contemporary and new adult romance writer with more than a hundred and twenty books behind her. She loves coffee, watching a great movie and hanging out with her hubs. By hanging out, she means making out. Hanging out is for those little creepy elves at Christmas. No tight green stockings for her.

  She’s an entrepreneur at heart and loves coming up with more ideas than any one person should be allowed to access. She lives in Texas with her hubs and three kiddos and looks forward to traveling the world in a few years. Writing under eleven pen names keeps her busy and allows her to explore all genres and types of writing.

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  Camden: The Casanova Club #13

  Copyright © 2019 by Ali Parker

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

  First Edition.

  Editor: Eric Martinez

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