Five Days in Paradise: Love by the Numbers, #5

By J.A. Coffey

Nick DeSilva has been trying to get a job with his brother’s record label for years. Assigned to monitor a thrashing rock band at an exclusive tropical resort, he runs into more trouble than he expects when Lise McCabe, his former flame, has taken over the whole island.

Lise can’t believe her bad luck. As a wedding planner, she’s sent plenty of happy brides down the aisle, but a resort scheduling glitch means she’s got to duke it out for space with one of the hated DeSilvas—a family that almost destroyed her own.

It may take a little magic to sweeten the deal, but somehow Nick and Lise must negotiate to satisfy both their business contracts—and their hearts. Will their battle for control take over their budding passion during these FIVE DAYS IN PARADISE?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.A. Coffey
• Release date: Mar 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386630012

Book preview

Copyright (c) 2017 by J.A. Coffey

Cover by J.A. Coffey

Editing by Jody Wallace of Meankitty Editing

This e-book is sold on condition that it shall not be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the copyright owner's consent, and without a similar condition being imposed on a subsequent purchaser.

About this Book:

Nick DeSilva has been trying to get a job with his brother’s record label for years. Assigned to monitor a thrashing rock band at an exclusive tropical resort, he runs into more trouble than he expects when Lise McCabe, his former flame, has taken over the whole island.

Lise can’t believe her bad luck. As a wedding planner, she’s sent plenty of happy brides down the aisle, but a resort scheduling glitch means she’s got to duke it out for space with one of the hated DeSilvas—a family that almost destroyed her own.

It may take a little magic to sweeten the deal, but somehow Nick and Lise must negotiate to satisfy both their business contracts—and their hearts. Will their battle for control take over their budding passion during these FIVE DAYS IN PARADISE?

Table of Contents

Copyright Information

Blurb

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

Epilogue

About the Author

Sweet Readers,

I hope you love this series as much as I’ve enjoyed creating a new world for you. Love by the Numbers Romances feature younger heroes and heroines who struggle with life and love without the benefit of years of experience. I’m enthralled by the raw intensity of this new novel and I hope it becomes one of your favorites, too.

This novel is special, because it’s featured in the Enchanted Keepsakes stories from the Sexy Scribblers. This romance presented a unique challenge of incorporating a little magic into the contemporary romance setting of the Love by the Numbers characters. So read on and tell me if you think I’ve captured the essence of a quest to bring Lise and Nick a happy ending.

Happy Reading!

J.A. Coffey

AN ENCHANTED KEEPSAKES NOVEL

"True love has no boundaries. It knows no space or time.

Human or immortal, true love will always find you."

Legend spins a tale of Korinna, a beautiful witch. With loving parents who doted on her, she wanted for nothing. On her fifth birthday, tragedy struck when her mother became ill and was suddenly taken from her. For two years, it was only Korinna and her father, until one day he fell in love. Her father married, and their family grew. Korinna’s copper curls and wide violet eyes were a contrast to her four siblings’ raven locks and emerald gazes. The men showered her with attention while ignoring her sisters, stealing their chances for love and marriage. On her eighteenth birthday, her resentful stepmother placed a curse upon her.

Korinna would forever walk the earth, never finding her own true love. Her desire to help others sent her time-traveling through exotic lands, collecting keepsakes along the way. With her treasures in hand, she placed an enchantment upon each of them. It is said whoever possesses one of these trinkets will be blessed with true love.

So remember, the next time you step into a small shop, take a close look around. Do you sense the magic? If you happen to spot a redhead with sparkling violet eyes, it just might be Korinna, setting up shop in your town. Take care, for the treasure that whispers to you—to lift it from its resting place and take it home—could lead you straight to your one true love.

-Enchanted Keepsakes foreword, written by Valerie Twombly

Chapter One

Lise

After replacing the transmission on my car, losing a lucrative wedding contract to a competitor, and forgetting my twin brothers’ birthday dinner, I thought it was safe to say that my week could not get any worse.

I was wrong.

What do you mean you can’t hire me? My best friend Evie sets down the conciliatory mocha cappuccino I’d purchased for her before I broke the bad news.

I know we talked about how great it would be to work together. But I ran numbers last night. Unless I snag something big, I don’t have it in my budget to hire an assistant. I’d just shelled out some major bucks to renew my website domain name and hosting package. A three-year contract means a solid chunk out of my bank account. Add in the expense of social engagements and travel to bridal showcases and I am officially tapped out.

I thought you were doing well. Her face is a mask of disappointment, like one of those sad French clown paintings I sometimes see when scouring flea markets. Evie’s been my bestie for years, and while I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood, I left home determined to make it on my own. It’s been a few lean years of pushing this rock uphill, but with luck, I’ll be able to make my dreams come true. You seem so...together.

I’m scraping by. People are doing weddings on the cheap these days, using online resource lists instead of a personal planner. Not that I blame them. Anything I can do to beautify my own life on a budget, I’m willing to put in the elbow grease to achieve. Which is why I’d worked straight through Mason and Matt’s birthday celebration instead of indulging in some delicious cake and ice cream.

Dang, that sucks. She flips the thin plastic edge of her to-go lid. Thwap, thwap. I was counting on this job.

I know and I feel horrible. I fold my hands together under the table. But I’d feel worse if I hired you and we both went under. I absolutely hate disappointing her. Or anyone, really.

She sighs and takes a sip of the sweet concoction. I guess I can always move back in with my parents. There’s always that.

I know I’m crushing her dreams of living on her own. It’s been rough for my generation. Some of us who attended college are struggling to find jobs while juggling student loans, and those of us who didn’t go to college, me included, are left trying to piece ends together to form a career.

I’m one of the lucky ones. Two years ago, I used what was supposed to be my college fund as a down payment on a tiny rundown bungalow near North Capitol Hill that I dubbed Lavender House. I’m now the proud owner of a shabby chic boutique where I offer wedding and event planning. Some, like Evie, who went to college, haven’t fared any better. Jobs are tough to find, especially in Seattle where the cost of living is higher than most of the U.S.

But maybe I can still help.

I do have a suggestion, though. Why don’t you move in with me rent-free for a while? It wasn’t such a bad idea. I mostly use the upstairs of my boutique for storage, but there’s a clean small bedroom—more than enough space to accommodate Evie—and there’s a full bathroom for her to use.

Downstairs is my own shabby chic elegant space, filled with flea-market finds and upcycled vintage pieces that speak to me—and my clientele. The place needs some serious TLC, but I use it as both office and apartment to cut some of my overhead.

Really, Lise? Are you sure? She sounds so hopeful. Man, I love making people’s wishes come true.

Of course I’m sure. I’d have to move the stacks of fabric samples and the crates of signature wedding favors that I’d stashed up there, but how bad could it be? I’d been tortured by two younger twin brothers for the first twenty years of my life until we all moved out. Living with Evie, my favorite person in the world, will be a vast improvement. It’ll be great having you there. We can split utilities and groceries and stuff, but I won’t charge rent until you land a better job.

Okay, but only if you allow me to help out with your wedding stuff in exchange for my portion of the rent. Evie would never take an outright handout, and she’s super creative and a hard worker, which is why I had the notion to take her on as my assistant in the first place. I can do that and still work night shift at Magic Beans.

She started as a cashier at the former pub turned coffeehouse last week because she doesn’t have a car and it’s right off the bus route. While she likes the owners and the customers are nice, it won’t enrich her bank account or even make ends meet, and we both knew it. But at least it’s a stopgap until Evie figures out what she wants to do with her life.

I press my spare key into her hands, grateful today isn’t a total loss. Pack up your stuff and come on over. I’ve got an appointment back at Lavender House with serious potential, but I can help you move in afterwards.

Serious potential?

Mhmm. I can’t say more because Faris Brindwald is practically royalty around Seattle and I don’t want to jinx myself. Faris is a twenty-something bride, fresh out of college and full of promise—and promised to a much older sports franchise owner. I’d bumped into her at an exclusive bridal show last month after we both squeed over some silk-edged bridal veils and she’d mentioned that her previous wedding planner had passed in a tragic roller derby accident. Big fish. Huge. Whale proportion.

So awesome. Today rocks! Evie whips out her phone. She’s already surfing her contacts for a friend with a truck who can haul her stuff over. Unlike me, Evie’s always been a drifter. She made good grades in school without studying, but she hasn’t latched on to anything that could be called a career. Not like me.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been enamored with weddings. Not that I wanted to be a bride. No, sir. My first job in high school was working long hours at a bridal shop. After agonizing over every detail with some of Seattle’s best and worst common denominators, eventually I toiled my way up the ranks from junior seamstress to event coordinator. I guess it’s only fitting that I transformed into Seattle’s most promising up-and-coming wedding planner—according to an article about Lavender House in the Seattle Brides magazine—by the ripe old age of twenty-four.

My cell rings with an unknown number. Lise McCabe.

Sis? One of my twin brothers, Matt or Mason. I can’t tell from the single syllable. I check my watch. It’s late afternoon, a time when both should be holed up at work. Matt owns an indoor climbing gym here in Seattle, while Mason’s a pit boss at the Red Wind casino about an hour away. I’m in trouble.

Mace? I take a wild stab at who’s most likely to be in hot water. Probably the twin who deals cards and dabbles in the occasional walk on the wild side. The noise in the coffeehouse is too loud for me to decipher the specific timbre of his voice.

No, it’s Matt.

My heart plummets. Of the two, I wouldn’t have guessed that he’d be the one needing any assistance. What’s up, little brother? Trouble at the climbing gym? I take a swig of my cappuccino while waiting for the dirty details.

He’s quiet a moment. I need you to come to the county courthouse. I’ve been arrested.

Arrested? Coffee explodes out of my mouth. Evie hands me a wad of napkins to wipe my chin, the table...the everything. Where are you? What happened?

He huffs an exasperated breath into the phone, like static. I’m at the police station. Just a misunderstanding. Can you come bail me out?

A misunderstanding? I enunciate, in case I heard him incorrectly. Misunderstandings don’t land you in jail, Matt. I stand, grabbing my things and stuffing them into my purse. Evie mimes for me to call her later with huge, round eyes. I’m on my way over.

When I arrive at the jailhouse, the officer behind the desk looks over the top of her glasses as I give my name. McCabe? Criminal mischief. Hundred dollar bail. You can remit cash or certified cashier’s check over there. She gestures.

A hundred bucks? I groan, yanking the bills out of my wallet. So much for grocery money. I’m tempted to walk out and let him rot, but I can’t. He’s family. Plus I have no idea what he’s done.

He’ll come through there. They point again, this time at a heavy metal door with a tiny square window at the top.

I pace, too nervous to sit on one of the cracked fake leather chairs as I wait for him to shuffle down a short hallway to me. The minute he emerges, looking a lot like Bruce Banner after a Hulk rampage, my restraint crumbles. I smack him as hard as I can on his huge bicep as they release him into my custody.

You idiot, I blast. Criminal mischief? I might have expected this from Mason, but you? What did you do? I can’t picture my massive, muscle-bound baby brother doing anything reckless. He’s always so careful, so responsible, because in his line of work, being reckless means people get hurt. Really hurt. Mason is a complete imp, but Matt...no way. Is this because I missed your stupid birthday? I’ve apologized for that.

His face crumples. I took a poke at someone. Shouldn’t have, but... His brown eyes flicker at me. We leave the police station, and he follows as I clomp angrily to my car.

A poke? My brother is over six feet and easily three hundred pounds of muscle. A blow from him could land someone in the hospital. What kind of poke?

The proverbial kind. It was DeSilva, he mutters, jerking the car door open. He slides into my passenger seat, barely managing to fit into the compact sedan. I sorta tried to get a guy kicked out of my building.

Nick? All the oxygen in my car seems to evaporate as I key the ignition and we pull out of the parking lot. I struggle for control, as my breath rattles in my lungs, like a fish trying to exist on dry land. You live in the same building as—

Not Nick. He shakes his head. Not Marco, either. I...sorta made life difficult for one of Marco’s rock star clients.

Why...? I force myself to swallow. Why would you do such a thing?

His eyes grow tight around the edges with righteous anger.  Do you really have to ask?

Because of me? Oh, God. Matt, seriously. I want to smack him again, but I don’t dare take my white-knuckled grip off my steering wheel. Nick and I have been over for almost six years. There’s nothing to avenge.

Lise, he ruined your life! If he hadn’t kno—

Don’t. I cut him off ruthlessly before his hateful words can reach my ears. I’m well aware of our sordid history with the DeSilvas, both before and after my misguided romance. I don’t need a replay of my failures.

It wasn’t your failure, sis. He’s the one who screwed up. Him and his asshole brother Marco. He turns away, his mouth twisted up with anger.

Matt, I love you. But don’t ever use me as an excuse to go after someone.

I just thought you’d want to get back at him. I know I do.

No. You didn’t think. And I don’t need your help. I’m very happy with how my life has turned out. I don’t need you championing long-dead causes. And I sure as heck don’t want my Mack-truck of a brother getting himself into trouble because of a major mistake in my past. I’m beyond that.

Fine, he grumbles, shifting in his seat the way he and Mason used to do during timeout on the special stair in our old house. But I heard Nick was hired at Silverstreak, which means he’s not in L.A anymore. He’s here. You’d best be prepared to bump into him. His flushed face and hot, watery eyes are a sign that he’s still dangerously angry.

For a moment, I see my brother the way that he used to be. A stubborn, chubby child with red, angry cheeks, like that day he’d been accused of eating Mom’s chocolate pudding pie right before her Bunco party.

If Nick is in Seattle, I don’t give a crap. My irritation evaporates just like that damn pie. I guess I can understand why he went after the DeSilvas. Because the McCabes stick up