Swoon-worthy Series Starters

Chapter One

Linc

My father was a pompous jerk, a philandering womanizer, an asshole of the first order, and now he’s dead, leaving behind four legitimate children and one illegitimate daughter. That we know of.

I spread the canceled checks I found weeks ago across his desk.

As I discovered yesterday from the private investigator I hired, the trail led to a sister I knew nothing about, and the information sent me reeling.

Who knows what other surprises await in the wake of Kenneth Kingston’s death of a heart attack a month ago?

“Slow down, Linc, or you’ll end up sleeping here tonight,” my brother Xander says. Feet kicked out in front of him, he leans back in his chair.

“I have a car waiting to take me home. I can get as drunk as I want.” I lift the tumbler to my lips.

Xander groans. “Look, I get it. I’m not happy about the news either, but it’s not like we thought Dad was a stellar human being. Are you really shocked he knocked up his secretary nineteen years ago and left a daughter to show for it?”

“No.” I take another sip. “But I am horrified by the fact that at some point he looked up the kid’s mother, found out the child was in foster care, and left her there.

” My private investigator tracked down Tiffany Michaels and got the story.

My stomach churns at how my sister was treated by both of her parents.

Xander glances up at the ceiling, adjusting the black-framed eyeglasses he’s wearing after a long day staring at a computer screen. “I changed my mind. I could use a drink myself.”

With a shake of his head, Xander rises, walks to the bar, grabs a tumbler, and brings it back to the desk. He picks up the bottle, pours himself a drink, and settles into his chair before indulging in a hefty gulp.

“What do Dash and Chloe say?” Xander asks of their siblings.

Of course Xander wouldn’t know how they took the news.

While I’ve been dealing with our late father’s estate, the business I’ve been helping to run for years, and the paperwork after his death, Xander has been closed up in his home office writing.

He’s a marine turned thriller writer after his return stateside whose books have been made into blockbuster movies, and he often gets lost in his own world.

I called him here tonight to fill him in about our sister.

I glance at the surprise checks I found. Everything relating to the family real estate business banking is online. That Kenneth obviously opened an account to hide these payments speaks volumes about what our father was capable of when it came to his penchant for deception.

“I dragged Dash’s ass out of the studio to talk to him. Did it on the phone because, as you know, he’s holed up and working with the band. He listened, said it figured Dad would leave us with this kind of surprise, and went back to work.”

Dash is the lead singer of The Original Kings, a rock band he’s been a part of since he was in high school.

After years of playing bars and smaller gigs, they were discovered, and their success is massive and worldwide.

When home in New York, Dash has a house near Xander’s in the Hamptons fully equipped with a studio and enough room for his bandmates to crash.

I rub the back of my stiff neck with my fingers.

Xander nods. “Dash is focused when he’s working.”

“Sound familiar?” I ask wryly. “Anyway, he texted me later and said he wanted to meet her, so he’s fine. Mellow and typical Dash.”

“And Chloe?” Xander drums his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“She’s upset. Devastated she has a sister she never knew about and one who obviously grew up in way different circumstances than us.” It turns my stomach. I don’t have details of this sibling’s upbringing, but I know it won’t have been pretty. “Aurora,” I say.

“What?” Xander asks.

“Our sister’s name is Aurora. I think we should start getting used to it.”

A knock sounds on the door, and my personal assistant and best friend, Jordan Greene, walks inside, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her black slacks and silk blouse as immaculate as they were this morning.

After her upbringing, Jordan prides herself on being able to afford quality clothing and looking her best. No more hand-me-downs from her sister.

“I’m leaving for the night. Anything I can get you before I go?” she asks, as she does every night I stay later than her. We both work long hours.

Xander turns to face her. “Hey, Jordan. You weren’t at your desk when I came in. I almost thought you gave up on dealing with my brother.” He jerks a finger back at me and laughs.

“Shut up, asshole.” I scowl at my sibling.

Jordan chuckles. “We all know I’m the only one who will put up with him. I can’t subject my fellow females to his bossy personality at work.”

“I am not that bad,” I mutter.

“Yes, you are,” they both say at the same time, and their joint laughter echoes around the room.

I shake my head as they make fun of me. It’s not unusual for Jordan to gang up on me with one of my siblings, and maybe I deserve it. I’m not always easy.

Jordan’s mother, Tamara, was the Kingston’s housekeeper throughout our childhood.

As a result, Jordan knows all of my siblings well but mostly me as we bonded early on.

We became not just best friends but a united duo.

Despite our different backgrounds, we clicked.

After school she’d come to our house to do her homework while waiting for her mother to finish working, and I used to join her.

Getting her to become my assistant after I graduated business school was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. My schedule is always up-to-date, she knows what I want almost before I ask, and our friendship has only deepened.

I meet her blue-eyed stare. “I’m good. You can take off for the night.”

“Awesome. I’m going to pick up sushi for dinner on my way home. See you in the morning!” she says, bright and cheery as always. “Night, Xander.”

“Good night, Jordan.” Xander gives her a wave before turning back to face me, a curious expression on his face as the door clicks shut behind her.

“What?” I all but bark the question at my brother, who’s still staring at me as if he has something to say.

“Have you really not fucked her yet?” Xander asks.

“You asshole. Don’t talk about Jordan like that.”

Xander’s grin tells me he’s nailed me, prodding me on purpose to get a reaction, and I gave the bastard what he wanted.

“Come on, seriously. Why haven’t you two gotten together?” Xander finishes his drink and puts the glass down on the old mahogany desk.

“Want more?” I lift the bottle of scotch.

Xander shakes his head. “No, but I do want an answer.”

Knowing I need more alcohol for this, I pour myself another drink.

I’m getting wasted far deeper and faster than I prefer, liking to keep my wits about me.

But after hearing about my new sister and processing how she was raised when a family with money would have welcomed her, I need to numb my feelings.

“Linc!” Xander kicks the desk with his foot. “Where did you go?”

I blink and look into my empty glass. “Sorry. What did you want to know?” The alcohol is getting to me.

“I asked why you and Jordan haven’t hooked up.”

“Because she’s my best friend, and I couldn’t live without her if things didn’t work out.

” Even if she has a body my fingers itch to touch, lips I’m dying to kiss, and sky-blue eyes that can see into my soul, I have to keep my hands …

and mouth to myself. Over the years, the restraint has cost me, but I’ve managed not to step over that line.

I grew up well aware of my father’s indiscretions, mostly with the women who worked for him, and I’ve gone out of my way not to be anything like the man.

If I’ve been more serious, asked more of others, then so be it.

As long as I’m not leaving work to meet up with a mistress or sleeping with one of my assistants or secretaries, I can look myself in the mirror each day.

Xander tips his head to one side. “Makes sense, I guess.”

Xander knows all about heartbreak after being duped by a young, hot Hollywood actress he fell in love with while in LA during the filming of his first book made into a movie.

He won’t argue with my explanation about why I keep things platonic with Jordan.

Not when it means avoiding both heartbreak and the potential ending of an important friendship.

“You ever wonder if she would want more?” Xander asks.

I shake my head, knowing I can’t let myself go there. It would only make it harder if I knew she desired me, too. But I have no intention of giving my brother ammunition. I haven’t told Xander I want Jordan and I’m not about to.

For the next hour, I drink, Xander watches, and we talk about Xander’s next book, in the pre-filming and heavy discussion stages. Xander doesn’t bring up our half-sister or our father again, and I’m grateful. I’m not sure why the news hit me as hard as it did.

Xander obviously has his head on straight about it, but then again, my brother works his issues out on the page. I brood.

“What do you say we call it a night?” Without waiting for an answer, Xander stands and grabs the liquor bottle from the desk before I can pour more. Which is just as well. I’m feeling the effects of how much I’ve already had to drink.

I pick up my phone to text Max, my driver. “You want a ride back to your place?” I ask my brother.

Xander has a house on Long Island where he retreats when he’s deep in work. And for when he comes into the city, he has an apartment on the Upper East Side in the same building I live in.

My brother shakes his head. “I drove in and I’m going to head back to my house tonight. I want to get to work first thing in the morning. Want me to drop you off?”

“It’s out of your way and my driver’s waiting. I’ll talk to you soon.”