Cause and Affection Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Praise for Sheryl Wright

  Other Books by Sheryl Wright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Acknowledgments

  A Note on Music

  A Note on Creating an Advertising Agency

  A Note to My Readers

  Synopsis

  What happens when a chance encounter turns out to be anything but?

  Kara Wexler has only a few days to decide whether to accept the nomination of Chief Executive Officer and remain under her father’s hand. Should she say enough is enough and resign from the family company completely? Her siblings desperately want her to take the top job and use her innovative ideas to turn the company around. But Kara is tired of fighting with her father at every turn.

  Kara’s siblings aren’t willing to let the decision go to chance. Worried that Kara no longer has the fight necessary to lead the company, they concoct a scheme to get Kara back on track. Surely deceiving Kara for the short-term is worth the long-term gain.

  Madeleine Jessepp’s career has hit an all-time low. Her dream of becoming an actress isn’t going to happen and she doesn’t even have the money to return home to Minnesota. At first she scoffs at the offer to play the “Love at First Sight Role,” and spend a week as a fantasy date. But after some convincing she agrees to do it. After all, she is an actress.

  Thrown together by Kara’s well-intentioned siblings, Madeleine and Kara both get more than they bargained for. What will happen when Kara discovers she’s been deceived by everyone—especially by Madeleine?

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  Praise for the Works of Sheryl Wright

  Don’t Let Go

  Georgie and Tyler are wonderful characters and the way their relationship changes from purely professional to a romance is lovely, with good pacing. This is a clever book on many levels, and it really kept me on my toes, intellectually speaking. It was both challenging and heart-warming in equal measures, and I absolutely loved it.

  —Rainbow Book Reviews

  Nothing is quite so refreshing as something completely different to the norm. Don’t Let Go is a traditional romance, set in the corporate world and with a twist of a corporate intrigue to add to the action. What makes it unusual is that the main character in both the romance and the corporation is a Vet who has suffered a traumatic brain injury and is suffering from a range of seemingly catastrophic aftereffects.

  —Lesbian Reading Room

  Queen of Hearts

  …is a sweet romance about finding love when you don’t expect it and recognizing that everyone deserves a happily ever after. I was impressed with how Wright was able to give such a large cast of characters their own distinctive personalities and prevent so many female characters from blending together. This is a robust cast of side characters who bring humor and drama to the story. Queen of Hearts is an entertaining romance. It was such a quick read for me because the scenario is so appealing. A reality TV show full of interesting and beautiful lesbians looking to find true love is something that I would clear my schedule for. This book is a lovely break from the daily grind and if you’re looking for something light and fun, check it out.

  —Lesbian Review

  Other Bella Books by Sheryl Wright

  Don’t Let Go

  Stay with Me

  Queen of Hearts

  Copyright © 2019 by Sheryl Wright

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  First Bella Books Edition 2019

  eBook released 2019

  Editor: Katherine V. Forrest

  Cover Designer: Judith Fellows

  ISBN: 978-1-59493-605-0

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  For Dawn,

  who,

  for some unimaginable reason,

  gets me.

  Chapter One

  “Why are we sitting in business class?” Joanne Bryson-Wexler asked, uncomfortably fussing with the seatbelt and expecting a challenge to their presence at any moment. “It’s against company policy!”

  “We’re flying business class because this stupid airline doesn’t have a first class section,” her sister grumbled, eyes fixed on the world outside the jetliner’s convex portal.

  “Since when?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t own the airline.”

  Joanne huffed, “That’s not what I mean, and you know it, brat! Answer me!”

  Kara Wexler’s attention was fixed on the layers of morning cloud the airliner blew through as it climbed out of Toronto’s Pearson airport. “Fine. Since I decided I wasn’t going to listen to Dad’s bullshit anymore.”

  “Wait!” Joanne asked, panicking, “This isn’t coming out of my events budget, because if it—”

  “Will you relax, I paid for the upgrade out of my own money. I do have some you know.”

  Joanne just nodded, waiting while a trim flight attendant took their drink order. Once he delivered their premium booze, and in real glasses, he turned his attention to the other passengers. “Thanks, sis. Sorry, I guess I’m just tired of having to justify every cent my department spends. It gets old fast. Sometimes I just want to tell Dougie…”

  “Our brother is not responsible for the nickel-and-diming going on, and you know it. Geez, Jo, why can’t you just admit the old man’s the problem?”

  Joanne grumbled under her breath, taking her time to try her drink before commenting, “It’s really all our fault…”

  “Stop,” Kara begged. “Please, let’s not have this argument again.”

  “No! I want to have my say. You get to have all your politically correct stuff. Why can’t I say I just want us to get along?”

  Staring out the cabin window, Kara didn’t immediately reply. When she fina
lly turned to her sister, her constant exhaustion was as present as were the tears in her eyes. “Jo, is wanting to be treated the same as the next person being politically correct? Is treating strangers with respect being politically correct?”

  “Why do you do that? That’s not what I meant. You keep taking things all wrong!”

  Kara was struggling emotionally. The turmoil of the last few years had started with the American electoral victory of hate. Now Canadians were jumping on the bandwagon too. Suddenly their baby-panda hugging political leader wasn’t as fashionable, and some were pushing for the old ways. The country seemed evenly divided into those who were too scared or ignorant to move forward and those too tired and depressed from having always to be the face of a fairer future. “You keep talking about newcomers not respecting our beliefs. What you’re actually saying is they don’t look like us, and that’s wrong—because? Don’t answer that. Think about it this way. What did the indigenous people do when Cartier landed?”

  “They…they spent all winter nursing him and the crew back to life and curing their scurvy with natural medicine.” It was a line every Canadian school kid could recite.

  “And did they insist Cartier and his men change their style of clothing and hair, adopt their spiritual beliefs, or adapt to their matrilineal laws or politics?”

  “Well, no, but that was their mistake. Besides, it’s different, they are a defeated people and have to adapt to our ways.”

  Kara groaned to hear this common misconception. “Defeated by whom? The only enemies we’ve fought on our land are the French—if you take the English standpoint. The English, if you take the French standpoint, and the Americans from everyone’s standpoint. It’s the Americans you should be worried about, not a handful of well-educated displaced middle-class professionals who just happen to be Muslim.”

  “That’s not the point! They come here and just take over. It’s not right.”

  “Why? Because it’s what Dad says, or do you really think that a guy who’s lost everything isn’t entitled to come here, work at a crappy job, and care for his family who’ve already suffered through hell just to get here? How does that hurt you? Come on, tell me how it affects you or your family?” Not waiting for her answer, she raised her glass, signaling the flight attendant for a second drink. On the headrest monitor in front of her, the air map showed they were barely a quarter of the way to Las Vegas. There was a time she would have relished this conversation, looking forward to schooling her baby sister on opportunities of fairness and equality. She couldn’t help but feel that those days were gone. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, but caring hadn’t helped her life or made it any easier to deliver a vision of a fairer world to her family or company. There was a time when she loved the challenge and lived for a heated debate. Now, not so much. She’d given up on intellectual sparring when the champions became those who shouted the loudest. Her sister could be like that. Regurgitating every piece of crap that fell from their father’s mouth. “Why am I here?” Kara asked, more a rhetorical question than evidentiary.

  “It’s the annual sales convention, silly. Everyone will be here this year.”

  “Except you keep forgetting I have no desire to attend.” At her sister’s gaping look she added, “Jo, I handed Dougie my resignation on Friday. I’m only here because he begged me to deliver the pivot-or-sprint analysis.”

  “If you quit, why do you care?”

  Kara finally turned to look at her sister. Even in the poor cabin lighting, it was easy to see the sadness in her eyes. “I’m not quitting because I don’t care. Jo, I’ve just had enough of Dad’s bullshit. Stop, I see it in your eyes, I know you don’t really understand. After all is said and done, he’s your daddy, but for me, he’s just the bastard who spent every moment we had together telling me why I don’t deserve his attention or support. That, of course, was on the few occasions he bothered to recognize my presence at all.”

  For the first time in a long time, Joanne was uncharacteristically quiet. Finally, she broke the silence between them. “Dougie told me about the resignation letter. He said you promised not to tell anyone until after the convention. Will you keep your promise?”

  “Will I keep…I’m not the one making promises all over the place, promises he’ll never keep. I swear Dad’s more overboard this year with his ridiculous campaign to get Dougie in the top job. I would think announcing my resignation is just what he needs to get the board to roll over.”

  “He won’t do that.”

  “Jo, really? I know you still have faith in Dad. So do I. I have every faith that he will announce my resignation to the board but he’ll be sneaky. No need to give anyone time to look elsewhere. Instead, he’ll wait until the meeting on Saturday. He’ll pull out my resignation as he makes the motion to recognize Doug as the next CEO.”

  “He won’t do that,” she repeated.

  Kara’s look was a mix of disappointment and doubt.

  “He won’t do that because I hid your resignation in my office safe. He hasn’t seen it, and Dougie promised he wasn’t going to tell him.”

  “What the… Why? Why would you two do that?” When her sister didn’t answer, Kara covered her ears with her hands, rubbing small circles above her brows and along her temples. Eventually, her fingers steepled together and she lifted her head. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, you and Doug, but Jo please, I’m burnt out, and there’s just no coming back from this.”

  “Of course there is! I know you’re hurting. And I know you’ve been walking away from things, not just work things but friends too.”

  At Kara’s questioning look, she explained, “Leslie called me. She was worried. She said she hasn’t seen you this down since you and trailer trash broke up. It took you all of three weeks to get over her. This is different. You’ve been sliding away for a few years now, but this last year has been the worst. I don’t understand why. Please, Kara, let me help?”

  * * *

  “Take it,” Franco insisted, pushing the envelope forward. “I don’t even want my commission. It’s all yours.”

  “I…I can’t, you know…”

  “Hey! It’s not like that. I checked these guys out. They’re legit. It’s all according to the script. You just get her back to the room, give her a nice kiss and off you go.”

  “Off I go, letting this woman—I will remind you I’m straight—a woman no less, who I’m supposed to make fall in love with me then send her off with a quick peck on the cheek? Come on Franco, I—”

  “Hey, they say they studied her and everything before they created this scenario. Evidently, she just wants the girlfriend experience, you know, hand-holding and that kinda shit. You can handle it. It’s all about showing her around and helping her let loose. They need her on the ball Saturday and ready for some big boardroom smack down. All you gotta do is lay on the charm, get her pumped for battle, and send her off feeling she’s got some mojo going on.”

  She grumbled under her breath, reading through the dog-eared script. It was all of nineteen pages long and mostly contained entries like where to take this woman and what to say when they got there. And they specified the mood she was to create. Yes, it did sound like she just wanted an escort to attend stuff. That wouldn’t be too bad, and the venues and restaurants were all the best Vegas had to offer. She tapped her fingers on highlighted text on page four. “I’ve never been backstage at Cirque du Soleil, how the hell do you expect me to give her a backstage tour?”

  “It’s all arranged.” He opened the large envelope she had been ignoring, retrieving a smartphone. It was new and a big improvement over what she was using. “You get to keep this, after. It’s got all the contacts, the times, even your tickets. There’s a credit card too.” He handed the gold plastic to her.

  She was expecting a prepaid card, but this one had her name on it. “What the hell?”

  “It’s in the script. Saturday morning, when you walk through Caesar’s Palace, you’ll buy her something to give he
r confidence. If you need to spend more than ten grand, send me a text, and I’ll make sure her people are expecting it.”

  “Her people—won’t she think it’s weird that I’m buying something for her with her own money? I mean…”

  “That’s the thing, it’s all a surprise.”

  “What? You said she wanted the girlfriend experience, now you’re saying ‘her people’, whatever the hell that means…”

  “Maddie baby, give it a rest! It’s just how this experience thing goes. These rich people pay for the whole thing to happen sometime in the future. Hell, for all we know this chick may do this every place she visits. They say she travels a lot and expects to meet people and have adventures. Maybe it’s just her thing! Come on, you know how weird rich people are.”

  It wasn’t like she could say no. After ten years in Vegas, she was sure she’d seen everything. Of course, she was sure her career and her life had hit rock bottom too. Maybe the only way to test that hypothesis was to take on this stupid pantomime. Besides, she owed Franco. Her new and overstuffed Grand Cherokee in the parking lot was his. He had won it in a backroom high stakes poker game and had handed her the keys sight unseen. “What do I need with another Jeep? You keep it. This way I know you’ll make it home. I couldn’t forgive myself if I sent you home on the bus.”

  She was staring at the bulging manila envelope which she knew contained the opening payment of ten thousand dollars. Successful completion of the scripted weeklong romance promised an additional ten grand. One thing for sure, this might be rock bottom, but she wouldn’t be leaving Vegas beat down and broke like all the rest. She wouldn’t be going home a star like she promised her family, but she could return to Minneapolis with some pride for having tried. Couldn’t she?