Verwandte Artikel zu Just Our Luck

Just Our Luck - Softcover

Williams, Denise

 
9780593641439: Just Our Luck
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593641434 ISBN 13: 9780593641439
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

USA TODAY BESTSELLER • LibraryReads Pick

"I'm a forever fan."—Tarah DeWitt, USA Today bestselling author of Savor It

A lottery ticket + donuts = love in this steamy new fake dating romance from beloved author Denise Williams.

Sybil Sweet has always been lucky, but lately she can’t catch a break. After years of bouncing from job to job in search of something that feels right and from man to man in search of something special, Sybil is worried that she’s the directionless, floundering daughter her family thinks she is. All she really wants now is a little financial stability and carb comfort. Lucky for her, she’s got just enough in the bank to buy a lottery ticket, and the late-night donut store is open.

Kieran Anderson put his dreams of becoming a doctor on hold to take over running his family’s bakery, and after fighting a losing battle to save the place, he’s exhausted, broke, and no closer to getting back to school. But when a whirlwind of a woman sweeps in late one night, flirty energy gives way to more…until she runs out the next morning, leaving behind her winning lottery ticket.

Lucky for Kieran, his attempt to return the ticket looks like a grand romantic gesture and goes viral, sending sales through the roof. In an effort to keep the store afloat and to convince Sybil’s family she can make good relationship choices, they agree to fake a relationship for three months. Even with hundreds of millions of dollars, finding each other might end up being the sweetest bit of luck for both of them.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Denise Williams

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

Sybil

Sybil, it's already seven forty-five." My mom stood in the open garage door with her coffee mug in hand, waiting for me to free up her driveway. It was a little game we played every morning-me losing track of time in the shower and her tapping her foot and dressed for the occasion in her signature slacks and sweater set from Ann Taylor Loft. "We need to go. What are you doing?" Her tone was the one that communicated "you are the child who tests me" versus the one reserved for my sister, which sounded like "thank you for being exceptional, Grace." I'd really tried to be on time that morning-set an alarm and everything. It just . . . didn't work out.

"I found a penny!" I bent to wedge the coin from where I'd seen it peeking between the grass and the sidewalk under the last few layers of melting snow. My fingertips were chilled, but one didn't just leave a penny on the ground-at least, I never did. "Got it!" I held it out like a gold medal toward my mother before shoving it in my pocket.

This was a good sign. Today was going to be lucky. I rubbed my palms together against the cold, then waved through the windshield. Turning the key, I rubbed the dashboard to coax my old girl to life, and she sputtered but didn't turn over. My stepdad insisted she was a pile of junk, but I knew she just needed a soft touch. "C'mon, girl." I turned the key again and got the same result. "C'mon," I said, an edge in my voice. She was a pile of junk, but since I hadn't ever held on to a job for more than six months and was currently living with my parents after getting kicked out of my apartment, she was the only pile of junk I had. "It's my lucky day," I said, petting the dash again and hoping my mom didn't see me doing this dance with my car. She'd side with Paul, which would lead to a long lecture about responsibility, none of which I had time for today.

The engine roared to life, and I cheered, throwing the car into reverse and speeding toward the donut shop. Traffic was light, and I picked up my phone to dial Emi as I drove.

"It's my lucky day," I said into the phone as soon as I heard her answer, her breaths coming heavy as she talked during her run. I imagined her ponytail bouncing as she paused at a red light while we spoke. We were unlikely friends in high school-she was studious and captain of the debate team, and I was everyone's favorite invite to a party, but we discovered a shared love of gelato and the Channel 8 meteorologist we had to watch for a class project. With spoons in hand and an intensely inappropriate interest in barometric pressure, the rest was history.

"You always think it's your lucky day."

"I'm aways right." I waved at ancient Mr. Edwards, who clutched his bathrobe closed and waved his newspaper at me. Lucky again. No peek at his stretched-out briefs and everything sagging out of them this morning.

"Marcus and I are going to be at the bar tonight, so if your date is a dud and you want to hang with us . . ."

"No need." I'd been talking to Carl through the app for a few days, and he checked all the boxes. "I'll see you there, but I have total confidence he's going to be a ten. Plus, he has the most amazing eyebrows." He also had a real grown-up job in finance, liked dogs, and didn't make me cringe politically. Since I'd stretched the truth and told my mom and sister I was seeing someone kind and responsible to get them both off my back, it would be great if this worked out.

And it would.

Sure, my last several boyfriends had left a few things to be desired, and one had stolen all my forks before ghosting, but good things happened to me, and Carl was the next good thing. And if that good thing could help me convince my family I was more than just the fun sister, that I could be taken seriously, too, well, that would be a bonus. Grace had Warren, and if I could find a guy that was serious and motivated and . . . well, a little boring, I could show them they didn't have to keep worrying about me. "It's going to go great tonight," I repeated.

"Just in case. You know where we'll be."

I whipped my car into a parking spot. There were signs indicating it was backup-only parking, but I knew I'd only be a minute, and whose bright idea was back-up only, anyway? With a quick glance up and down the street for parking enforcement, I closed my door. "I told my boss I'd pick up donuts for the office," I said, hurrying toward the entrance. "She ordered them from this place, and today's the day I ask to be considered for that full-time event planning job."

"Good luck," Emi said as we hung up. The bell above the door to Joe's Donuts chimed as I walked in, the scent of sugar and fried dough making me want to stop and take a longer inhale. I rolled the lucky penny in my pocket and searched for the cashier. "Hello?"

There was a crash, and a man's harried voice from the back of the store called out to give him a minute. I imagined myself surrounded by the contents of a shelf I'd bumped into in the stockroom at my last job and sent out good vibes to whoever was in the back. Everyone had those kinds of mornings, and I had a couple of minutes, so I looked around. There was a bulletin board to my left covered in thank-you notes from young kids with large, uneven handwriting and donuts colored in with crayons and markers. A couple tacked at the bottom read "Get Well Soon, Mr. Joe!" next to a flyer and a collection box for the Pennsylvania Street shelter, asking for donations to support their programming. I slid a finger along the flyer and continued my visual inspection. The drink case gave a low hum, and the coffee urns were labeled with regular and decaf on handwritten note cards.

The pink frosting and brightly colored sprinkles covering the donuts at the front of the display case made my mouth water. I imagined tapping donuts in celebration with my boss when she applauded my gusto to ask for the job and offered it to me on the spot. I grinned and glanced down at my watch. She probably wouldn't care that I was a few minutes late. After all, I couldn't help there being a delay at the shop. Although the donuts and pastries were for a meeting with big potential clients. I tried to peek into the back again. "Hello?"

On the counter, two pink boxes sat, labeled "Josefina." I reached for my wallet, where I'd carefully stashed the petty cash before leaving the office. The total, $36.38, was written under Josefina's name in black Sharpie, the handwriting small and blocky. "Hello?" I said again, more quietly. It was 8:05 and the meeting started at 8:30. The shop was still, save the faint voices I heard in the back of the store. I could just leave the money with a note. "Here for Josefina," I called out. "I'm just leaving the money!" I thought I heard a grunt of acknowledgment from the back, and I flashed some side-eye to the closed swinging door. We all made messes, but the clerk still hadn't returned. Customer service at this place definitely left something to be desired, but I wasn't letting it get me down. "Keep the change," I added.

I rummaged through my purse for my wallet. If I broke a few traffic laws, which, let's be honest, I was going to break anyway, I could get to the office in fifteen minutes. My fingers landed on my keys, my phone, three ChapStick tubes, and a few loose condoms, but no wallet. "Shit, shit, shit," I muttered to myself. "No, no, no." I tossed it back on the counter and looked inside. On visual inspection, there was a fourth ChapStick rolling around but no wallet. My watch brightly shone 8:07 a.m., and I looked through the door to the back, seeing no one. I searched my purse one more time, as if the wallet would magically appear, and made a snap decision.

I snatched a napkin from a stack nearby, pulled a pen from the cup next to the register, and wrote a quick note and dropped it on the counter. There was...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593641434
ISBN 13 
9780593641439
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
401
Kontakt zum Hersteller
BERKLEY
https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY

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