PROLOGUE （UNEDITED）
FALLON
I take one final glance in the mirror before I walk out the door. A small smile finds my red-painted lips. I look good tonight. Considering the fact that I’m usually either in scrubs from work or in sweatpants while running around after my daughter, I’d say I clean up well.
My daughter, Harper, is eight years old and the light of my life.
She’s staying at my ex-husband’s house tonight, which is why I said yes to this party.
Fancy black-tie fundraisers aren’t really my thing.
I prefer more casual evenings. Unfortunately, when my daughter isn’t around, most of those evenings are spent alone.
There’s nothing casual about me right now though. Tonight, I'm in a long, spaghetti-strap formal dress in a gorgeous turquoise shade that the saleslady said matches my eyes. The fitted satin bodice flatters my slim figure and makes me feel like a million bucks.
My blonde hair is blown out into wavy perfection, and I spent more than five minutes on my makeup, a rarity for me these days.
My doorbell rings right on time, and I open the door to see one of the most attractive billionaires on the planet, Beckett Windsor.
Beckett is in his fifties, yet he maintains his youthful appearance with his styled, dirty-blond hair, fit physique, and dazzling smile.
His daughter, Andie, is Harper’s best friend and has been since pre-school.
His wife tragically died in childbirth. I didn’t know him then, and I didn’t know him beyond an occasional wave at school for a few years.
He always looked so sad and kept to himself, though he was the one to drop her off at school and pick her up.
Never a nanny. It always struck me as sweet that, despite his tragic story and what I assume was a huge job, his daughter was his priority.
A few years ago, he met a talented artist, Amanda Tremaine, and it completely transformed him. It was like the zombie was awakened from a years-long slumber.
She’s a few years his junior and has an adult daughter from a previous relationship. They’ve since gotten married and had twin sons of their own. Amanda adopted Andie, and an outsider would never know she wasn’t Andie’s biological mother. She’s Andie’s mother in all the ways that matter.
He smiles when he sees me. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.” I take in his tuxedo-clad appearance that would put James Bond to shame. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Very debonair.”
He playfully wiggles his eyebrows up and down as he offers me his arm. “Shall we? The ladies are already a bottle in. I think they’re letting loose tonight. You’ll have to play catch-up.”
I look toward the sleek, black limo waiting in my driveway and can hear the cackling of Amanda and Reggie. Reggie is Amanda’s lifetime best friend. She’s also a nurse at the hospital I work at, so I’ve known her for years.
“Oh boy, it’s going to be a long night,” I offer.
He sighs. “It sure is. The little ones are out of control. I think Amanda is happy to have a night out away from them, and she plans to take full advantage of it.”
Their toddler boys are a bit of a nightmare. The little rascals are always getting into trouble.
Like the gentleman he is, he escorts me to the limo, and I climb inside, happy to see my close friends.
Amanda looks like a vision in red. Without or without fancy clothes and makeup, she’s a gorgeous woman.
Like me, she’s petite with a generous bust, though she has a darker complexion with brown hair and eyes, unlike my lighter complexion with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Reggie looks great too, all dolled up in a black gown.
I’m not used to seeing her in anything but scrubs, but she’s glowing tonight.
She’s a bigger, curvier woman and constantly cracks jokes at her own expense, but she’s beautiful, both inside and out.
She’s been married to her husband, Sam, for over twenty years, and they have five kids ranging from ten years old through adulthood.
Reggie has dark, curly hair with porcelain skin and a few adorable freckles spread over her nose.
She fans her face as I get in. “Hurry up and close that door from this humidity. I’m going through cougar puberty, and the heat is getting to me.”
I giggle. “Is that what we’re calling perimenopause these days?”
They’re both a bit older than me, in their upper forties, and are experiencing the early signs of menopause.
I’ll be forty next year, and it’s weighing heavily on me.
Harper is the air I breathe, but I never expected her to be an only child.
With her nearing nine and me nearing forty, I’m fearful that it will never happen for me.
When I got divorced six years ago, I had the wherewithal to have my eggs frozen just in case. I’ll put them to use if I need to, but I’m still holding out hope that I’ll meet the one and we’ll be able to conceive naturally. I know the clock is ticking though.
She nods at my perimenopause question. “Yes. Calling it cougar puberty makes me feel younger. Yesterday was horrible, dropping Ben off at college. It was so damn hot in that dorm room, I thought I was going to pass out. My sweat stains were shining through. It was made worse by the fact that when I made his bed for him, I knew right then and there that those sheets would probably never be washed again.”
I giggle. “Well, you clean up nicely. You look amazing tonight. No evidence of sweat stains.”
She smiles as she straightens her shoulders. “I might not be a ten at the beach, but I’m confident that I’m a solid eight at Walmart.”
Amanda and I start laughing, as we often do at Reggie’s humor. Sam throws his arm around her shoulders and says, “Baby, you’re a one hundred out of ten everywhere,” as he kisses her temple.
They’re the sweetest couple ever. I adore them.
“Maybe I’m a hundred in pesos,” she replies, “but that’s a legitimate currency.”
He smiles as he always does at her jokes. “I’m glad you spoiled yourself tonight and bought a new dress.”
She nods. “Me too. My kids have $400 bats and $300 baseball gloves, but I sit every day in the same bra and panties that I’ve had for four presidencies and a pandemic. I deserved a new gown and, thanks to Amanda and Beckett buying us a table, I have somewhere to wear it.”
Amanda and I share a bemused glance. Reggie is on her A-game tonight.
It takes a moment, but Beckett gets his big body settled in his seat and then easily pulls Amanda onto his lap.
“My wife looks edible tonight.” He then loudly whispers in her ear, “I’m ready to go home and peel this dress off you, cherry pie.
” She melts in his arms and nuzzles her nose into his neck.
Yep, this is my life. All my closest friends are madly in love, and I’m always the fifth wheel without a prospect in sight. My most intimate relationship is with H?agen-Dazs.
***
“She’s a single woman, not a single mom. Harper isn’t looking for a daddy, Fallon is,” our friend Cassandra loudly announces.
I look around to make sure no one can hear her resounding voice as we sit at our table at the fundraiser. Cassandra is filterless and always says what comes to her mind.
Seated with us tonight are Trevor and Cassandra Knight, parents to Harper’s other best friend, Dylan, and Darian and Jackson Knight.
Darian is Cassandra’s forever friend, while Jackson is Trevor’s father.
Yep, do the math on that. It means Cassandra is more than twenty years her husband’s senior.
They completely own it and don’t give a crap about what people think of their age gap.
Unfortunately, my love life appears to be the hot topic tonight. Cassandra has already confiscated my phone to set up a profile page on a dating app she downloaded.
I glare into her blue eyes, which contrast beautifully with her shoulder-length black hair. “If I’m looking for a daddy, does that mean you’re Trevor’s mommy?” I ask cheekily.
Trevor, who is gorgeous with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a muscular physique, smiles widely. “Ooh, maybe I’ll call you mommy when I breastfeed later.”
Jackson, who’s physically an older version of Trevor, makes a look of disgust. “Ugh, can we get back to talking about Fallon’s love life, not yours?”
“Love life?” I scoff. “I have no love life. I found myself licking a Snickers bar upside down yesterday just so I could feel the veins.”
The whole table erupts in laughter before they pepper me with question after question to fill in my dating profile. They then decide to fill out my information without my input, as if I’m not seated right here. As if it’s not my profile.
My head is starting to spin. Why is everyone in my life obsessed with finding me a man? My mother, my friends, all of them. Hell, even Tanner, my ex-husband, mentioned to me this week that I should be dating more. Yes, I’d love to meet someone, but that’s easier said than done.
I’m not sure people realize just how damaged I still am from my marriage and subsequent divorce.
It’s not easy to love someone who doesn’t love you back.
It’s not easy to beg for the attention of a man who cares more about his job than you.
I don’t think I could ever again take the heartbreak I felt when my marriage fell apart.
If I were ever seriously to date again, it would be to a man who leaves the office at five and never gives it another thought.
***
JETT
I head out to the expansive balcony just to get some fresh air, immediately loosening my bowtie when the warm, late summer breeze hits my face. I don’t know how I get talked into these events. I could strangle my agent and best friend, Leo, for making me attend tonight.
He begged me to come to this fundraiser. “It’s for the sick children,” he pleaded as he told me the people at my table would donate $10,000 a head to sit with me, a Hall of Fame quarterback and current NFL coach. How could I say no to that?