Sweetheart – The Morgans of New York Read Online Deborah Bladon

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“James is torn up, Sinclair.” Kalon keeps his gaze on me. “I told him not to come to this fucking wedding after what happened yesterday, but he insisted. Do you know why he insisted?”

The question doesn’t fully register because I’m stuck on what he said about yesterday.

“What?” I manage to whisper. “What are you talking about?”

“He came to this wedding because of you.” His hand rakes his hair. “I tagged along because I didn’t want him to be alone. No one should be alone after a loss like that.”

“A loss?” Dread seeps into my belly. “What loss?”

He studies me before his arms cross his chest. “You don’t know, do you?”

I step closer to him because his game of riddles is raising my blood pressure. “What happened yesterday, Kalon? What loss are you talking about?”

“Denia died.” His voice cracks. “Jameson’s grandma died in her sleep.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Jameson

“This fucking city,” I mutter as I descend the concrete steps outside of the entrance to Howerton House. “Coming to this wedding was a mistake.”

“You’re telling me.” Kalon’s voice comes at me from behind. “I couldn’t stand Dwight in high school. I don’t know why the hell he invited me to his wedding.”

As I step onto the sidewalk, I glance over my shoulder. “You’re joking, right? You’re a Beaumont. You and your brothers own half of this city.”

“So?” he spits the word back.

I let out a stilted laugh. “You must have heard him talking about how he needs a new job. He did it when he was standing right behind us. Don’t be surprised if he shows up at your office the day after his honeymoon.”

“I’ll tell security to toss him out of the building the second they spot him.”

I doubt like hell he’s joking, so I change the subject because Dwight was a dick back in high school, and I wouldn’t want to work with the asshole either. I’m shocked that Donna is marrying him, but maybe they are living proof of the love is blind concept.

“Where to now?” Kalon asks as he scans the screen of his phone. “We can hit up a bar or…”

“Your apartment,” I interrupt. “Are you sure it’s okay if I crash with you again tonight?”

“My home is your home.” He pockets his phone. “You can stay as long as you want, James. I’m not kicking your ass to the curb anytime soon.”

Kalon has always been a solid friend to me, even when I dropped out of sight two years ago.

It took me more than three months to get in touch with him after that, but he never brought up my disappearing act. We picked up our friendship right where we left off after I hightailed it out of New York City.

“I appreciate that,” I tell him.

“I’m here for whatever you need.” He straightens the lapels of my jacket with a firm tug. “Let’s head home. You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

I glance at the entrance to Howerton House one last time. I haven’t admitted it to Kalon, but I came to this wedding tonight for one reason and one reason only. I suspect he figured it out because he pointed out Sinclair as soon as she walked in.

The beautiful brunette with the big blue eyes is still the most striking woman I’ve ever seen.

“Are you ready to go?” Kalon’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “I ordered a rideshare. They’re less than a block out.”

“Good.” I tear my gaze away from the building to look toward the street. “It’s been a long day.”

“It has,” he agrees as he pats the middle of my back. “I’m here for whatever you need. I know this is a tough time.”

It’s the worst, but I’ll get through it because I have to.

Death is never easy, but I’m in Manhattan not only to honor my grandmother but to close this chapter of my life forever. That includes putting the business I once hoped I’d run in my rearview mirror and facing my brother one last time.

Add dealing with Sinclair’s hatred of me to that equation, and I’m in for one hell of a bumpy ride.

“There is no other way to handle this?” I stare at the man standing in front of me. “There must be another way.”

“I’m afraid there’s not, Jameson.” His voice is calm and edged with the type of compassion required in situations like this. “Denia wanted this. She insisted on it.”

I’m not surprised. My grandmother always had the last word when she was alive, so I can’t be shocked that she’d want the same in death.

It’s been four days since she took her last breath. The world seems smaller, less bright, and more confusing than ever.

When her attorney asked me to meet him at his office this morning, I hoped it would be a one-on-one deal.

“Mr. Wismer, look.” I stop to gather my thoughts, so I can find a diplomatic way to tell him that I’m not ready to see my brother yet.



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