Just Us: The Big Apple Billionaires Series, #3

By Evelyn Jeannie Hall

He's her lawyer. She's his client.

Sean is a single dad grieving his deceased wife. Elizabeth is a widow, just now healing from the loss of her husband. Becoming involved could not only get Sean fired from his firm, it could cost Elizabeth her livelihood and her home.

They should fight their attraction despite how hotly it burns. They really should…

But will they?

WARNING: This story is a slow burn that contains regular use of a certain fake cussword, rippling man muscles clad in skintight jogging attire, and steamy naughtiness employing several dollops of cake frosting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Jeannie Hall
• Release date: Oct 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223742005

Book preview

One: Bread and Breakfast

JUNE

Elizabeth Farrell-Yates never would’ve characterized herself as a badass or a boss lady. Yet as she eased her massively pregnant self onto a shiny stool inside the Bread and Breakfast Bakery, she couldn’t deny this quaint Brooklyn bake shop had become her pride and joy. As she smoothed her hands over her swollen stomach, she had to admit how good it felt to know this was her business, one she both owned and operated.

And the reason why she’d settled into this quiet corner away from the action of the counter was to conduct another interview.

So, your résumé states you’ve been working at Coffee Offees over the past year, Elizabeth said to Petra Pendleton, her interviewee. Petra had multi-hued hair—lavender, magenta, neon yellow, and peach—shorn into a pixie cut, a ring through her nose, a dragonfly tattooed on the inside of her wrist, and a bubbly personality.

The young woman had provided not only her CV, but three references to go with it. She also wore dress pants and a top that proved modest enough to cover all the essentials. Unlike many of her job applicants—one of which had strolled in wearing something so revealing she could’ve been arrested for indecent exposure—Petra seemed remarkably professional for a nineteen-year-old.

Yes. I’ve learned how to make lattes, cappuccinos, espressos, and cold brews.

Well, our main focus is on the baked goods side of things.

I have some experience with that, as well, Petra added, quickly. So that won’t be like, a totally foreign concept for me, either.

Good to know, Elizabeth told her, biting back a grunt as she received a swift kick near her bellybutton. At least it wasn’t her bladder. She’d had a few close calls over the past couple of weeks. Still, her discomfort must’ve shown because Petra leaned forward.

Are you okay?

Oh, sure. Just part and parcel of being pregnant.

If you don’t mind my asking, when is your baby due? Since she’d asked so considerately, Elizabeth didn’t mind at all.

"August 10th is the official date, though it’s babies, plural."

"Babies?" Her interviewee gawked at her as if she’d never heard of such a thing, and Elizabeth repressed a snicker. She wondered what the girl would think once she discovered Elizabeth herself was a triplet. Petra would discover this fact, she decided. She liked her, had a good feeling about her. Elizabeth believed in trusting her feelings. Those feelings had led her to two other solid employee finds already.

Twins. A boy and a girl.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

She didn’t go into the whole explanation about being a surrogate for her sister Katrina and brother-in-law Benji. One, it wouldn’t be appropriate for an interview. And two, it was a long story that tended to lead to personal questions about herself that Elizabeth didn’t divulge to others, especially strangers.

Why are you leaving Coffee Offees? Elizabeth continued, and one side of Petra’s lips twisted downwards as a V marred the skin between her brows.

They only give me limited hours that change from week to week. I’m taking summer classes at NYU, and I need more shifts and if possible, more regularity in my schedule.

I have a sister who just graduated from NYU. She’ll be a kindergarten teacher over at Central Park East Elementary this fall.

Wonder if I’ve met her. Petra wore a contemplative smile. I’m an education major, too, but in secondary biology.

Feeling playful, Elizabeth tilted her chin toward the door. Let’s find out. That’s her coming in now.

Elizabeth regarded Petra as Lacey breezed in looking like a flower in her pink poet’s blouse, long patterned skirt, and sandals. Her middle triplet caught sight of her, waved and smiled, then disappeared into the tiny back office. Lacey had been working full time this summer, claiming she’d be bored otherwise, but Elizabeth knew her increase in hours had more to do with helping out during this pregnancy.

The family had made an enormous fuss over Lacey after her graduation ceremony last month. Elizabeth and Katrina had helped Zane decorate their condo with balloons and streamers, and he’d chosen the perfect mortarboard-shaped cake with a tassel made of purple and white fondant icing representing NYU’s colors. Elizabeth’s interviewee peered back and forth between her and the door Lacey had disappeared behind.

Are you the older sister or the younger one?

Ah, foiled in her attempt at a joke. Typically, unless someone knew them, they couldn’t tell she and her siblings apart. But with her belly distending so far out that she could no longer catch sight of her own toes, she didn’t currently resemble either Lacey or Katrina below the neck. Until after her niece and nephew arrived, Elizabeth would resemble a beached whale more than her identical siblings.

She’d even had to purchase a support belt she wore like a girdle to hold up the weight of her lower stomach while standing. Otherwise, her hips ached so badly she couldn’t remain on her feet for more than a few minutes at a time. She couldn’t complain, though, since she’d signed up for this.

I was born last.

Oh, that’s nice. It’s like, a family business, then.

In a manner of speaking.

In reality, the Bread and Breakfast wasn’t in anyone’s name but hers. Sometimes, she still woke up amazed she’d taken Mr. Farawinder up on his offer to become a bonafide entrepreneur. It’d required not only a lot of work on her part, but for the stars to align just right.

She’d needed Benji to loan her the money for the purchase and renovation, Katrina’s painting skills, and Lacey, Zane’s, and her own elbow grease to bring this thing to fruition. But together, they’d done it.

It was so gratifying to see her dreams for this place made real.

Gone were the old yellow rectangular tables made of scratched Formica and the torn padded chairs that had seen better days. Circular white lacquer tables had replaced the originals, and matching lacquer stools in pastel pinks, blues, greens, and oranges now sat in their modern funky glory around them. New hardwood floors had been laid down, and certain boards had been painted with the same colors as the stools to create a unique herringbone pattern.

The lights overhead had been shaped to look like powdered donuts, and the walls depicted huge representations of some of the foods on their menu. There was a loaf of fresh bread on one, an apple turnover on another, and an enormous cinnamon roll on the wall opposite the glass storefront. Katrina had done such a wonderful job that they all looked good enough to eat, and often when Elizabeth skated over the threshold first thing in the morning, they made her hungry.

Then again, that might be due to the two lives she was temporarily housing.

Other than giving her patrons the munchies, which could only be considered a benefit, the effect was cheerful, upbeat, and pleasing to the eye. It was like working inside an ice cream sundae.

I’m going to use this color scheme in my classroom once I have one. Kids love it in here, Lacey had said when they’d finished the remodel. Elizabeth had been only six weeks along back then.

Or you could just provide cupcakes to them every day, Zane, her boyfriend, had suggested with a smirk.

With sprinkles, Benji had agreed with his best bud. I’d go back to kindergarten for that.

You will be going to kindergarten, Katrina reminded her husband. Once our baby is five.

It’d be another four weeks before they’d discover Elizabeth was pregnant with twins.

"Our baby, yours and mine..." he’d murmured dreamily, causing his wife to plop herself in his lap and kiss his eyebrow scar.

This brief showing of PDA caused Zane and Lacey to mimic the other two by batting their eyelashes and cooing at each other with deliberate exaggeration.

"Awww, I love you so much, mi alma," Lacey affected an attempt at Benji’s raspy baritone.

I love you, too, you hunky Puerto Rican stallion, you, threw in Zane in such a ludicrously high-pitched version of his deep bass voice that Elizabeth couldn’t help but snort.

Yet, her humor contained a healthy helping of irony because the second couple were guilty of being just as sappy and over the top in love with one another as the first. Lacey and Zane even shared a single pair of kidneys, for heaven sakes.

Undeterred, Benji upped the ante of his wife’s eyebrow kiss by laying a much more provocative one on her lips. He also shot his best friend and middle sister-in-law double birds behind Katrina’s back. Much as her family adored hassling each other, though, there’d been nothing but pure dedication and true love all around Elizabeth at every holiday, get-together, and friendly outing. Which was great. It really was.

Even if it did fling the fact that she remained alone somewhat glaringly in her face.

But that hadn’t been their intention, and Elizabeth knew it. Besides, she enjoyed the independence of being on her own. Most of the time, anyway. And she kept those rare occasions when that didn’t prove true to herself.

Did you notice my availability? Petra said, dragging Elizabeth back to the present.

I did, and I think we can accommodate a fixed schedule that would work around your summer classes. I’m going to contact your references, but as long as they check out, I believe this’ll be an advantageous arrangement for each of us. She offered the young woman her hand. Welcome to the Bread and Breakfast family. Listen out for my call within the next few days to a week.

Petra’s youthful face lit up like a lightbulb as she shook Elizabeth’s hand. Thank you. Thank you so much.

If only she could get rid of the blues that had been nagging her despite all the excitement that had come into her life. What would it take for her to feel as legitimately chipper as her prospective new hire? 

Two: Served

Lacey wandered toward her, and Elizabeth hitched a more pleasant expression onto her features. She shouldn’t be down in the dumps after successfully bringing aboard another fresh-faced employee, after all. Elizabeth tried to heave herself into an upright position using the round top of the table, but it ended up being too light to give her the right amount of purchase. She huffed out a breath, frustrated. This multiple pregnancy stuff could be a royal pain sometimes.

Come on, big mama, Lacey told her, assisting Elizabeth with an arm.

After lumbering upward, she cast her middle sibling a peeved look. Big mama? Seriously?

"What? That wasn’t insensitive. It’s simply... descriptive." Lacey made a gesture in front of her that mimed the shape of Elizabeth’s present state of girth.

Uh huh. You couldn’t find a nicer nickname? As if I’m not already aware that I’m the size of a house.

You’re not gonna cry, are you? Lacey quipped, while Elizabeth rubbed her lower back. How on earth had their mom ever carried all three of them without falling over face first? Oh, shit, you’re not, are you?

Elizabeth’s peek at her sister caught her wide-eyed and biting the inside of her cheek. Griefous, she hadn’t been that emotional. Lacey’s expression made her beauty mark stand out until Elizabeth waved off her concerns.

I know you’re kidding.

Not that her hormones hadn’t been all over the place on more than one occasion. It’d been unnerving to find herself grumpy one moment, restlessly exhausted the next, and well... turned on right afterward, not to put too fine of a point on it.

She had experienced her bouts with tears, though, even if the majority of them had occurred prior to her conceiving these bundles of joy in the first place. It’d taken four separate IVF treatments and six months for the implantation to take properly. By that last go around, Katrina had been so distraught that she swore to give up on the surrogacy route entirely if it didn’t work.

Elizabeth would never forget riding home after their failed third attempt.

Benji had driven she and Katrina through the midafternoon traffic, and they’d been stuck unmoving in one of the city’s customary jams. Benji—usually an exceptionally patient man—barked out an irritated, "Jesús Bendito. Fucking come on," at the seemingly endless line of vehicles in front of them, and his wife promptly burst into sobs.

Her brother-in-law apologized over and over, and Katrina eventually calmed down, but those three strikes in a row had felt like a bad omen. Thankfully, they’d decided to give it one final try, and that time, everything had come up roses.

The fourth time had been the charm.

Everything had gone remarkably well ever since then. There’d been wellness appointments, sonograms, and the delight of finding out she was carrying twins. They’d kept reaching all these successful milestones, and on one memorable occasion, Elizabeth, Katrina and Benji had been able to share another special discovery together.

Elizabeth had been five and a half months along—or twenty-two weeks to use pregnancy lingo—when she’d started to feel the babies moving around. This had occurred twice previous without the presence of the parents, but on this lucky encounter, the three had been on their way to an appointment. From the passenger seat, Elizabeth had twisted toward Katrina in the back, placing her eldest sister’s palm on the side of her abdomen.

Oh my God, Katrina whispered, grabbing her husband’s arm over the BMW’s console and pressing his hand against the same spot. 

Then, baby number two—or baby B as Dr. Allison termed it—joined in on the opposite side, and Elizabeth seized Benji’s hand herself.

It’s right... She felt around with his palm in tow as he pulled off the road. "There. Right there."

Elizabeth knew the second Benji felt that tiny bump, bump, bump because he’d stared at Katrina with so much awe in his gaze that moisture instantly flowed from his wife’s eyes. It’d done the same for Elizabeth. Benji’s eyes had become pretty wet, too.

The three of them had embraced without speaking, all of them encompassed in this bubble of pure elation. It’d been indescribably beautiful, even sacred in a way. She’d felt so grateful to bring such a moment to two of the people she so dearly loved.

Elizabeth tucked the memory away, not wanting to make herself misty again. Which turned out to be a good thing because a man had entered the shop calling her name. Elizabeth Yates? I’m trying to locate an Elizabeth Yates?

That’s me. She began to waddle over to him. He was a nondescript guy wearing an oxford shirt and tie with dress pants. Can I help you with something?

Yes, ma’am, I have a delivery.

Automatically, she accepted the large white unmarked envelope. Do you know what it is or where it’s from?

Yes, I do, he said. You’ve just been served. The guy then vacated her place of business as if he couldn’t dash out of there fast enough.

Served? Lacey asked, sounding as confused as Elizabeth felt.

I don’t know... Elizabeth removed the documents inside, finding lots of legalese. As far as she could tell, someone seemed to be challenging her right of ownership over Bread and Breakfast. Or as it stated in the paperwork, Farawinder’s, the name of the bakery before her former boss had sold it to her.

Another statement on those forms mentioned Mr. Farawinder’s death, and that it had occurred two weeks ago at his assisted living facility down in Florida. Blinking fast, she backed toward the stool where she’d been sitting a minute before and slid down onto the seat again feeling as if she’d just been smacked into by a semi-truck. Lacey snatched the papers from her grip as Elizabeth started to shake all over.

This is total bullshit. You bought this place from Mr. Farawinder fair and square. Her middle triplet had raised her voice, capturing the sharp gazes of some nearby parents of younger children. Elizabeth clamped onto Lacey’s elbow. The last thing she needed was to lose the patrons she’d worked so hard to gain.

But this posed a problem. A big one.

Help me up. I need to call Benji.

Three: Autopilot

Sean Graydon pulled the breakfast items from his fridge on autopilot, his brain barely registering his actions. Pouring the apple juice into his daughter’s sippy cup, he next doled out just enough milk to come halfway up her Cheerios, placing the cup and bowl in front of her. Glancing over at Vienna, he watched her take her first bite, then peered unfocused into space.

Man, she’s about to do it, Wyatt Ahn, his best friend since high school warned him, and Sean peeked up in time to catch Vee before she dumped her bowl—cereal, milk, and all—over the top of her head. His buddy chuckled. What is up with that, anyway?

A habit she started, Sean muttered, but he wasn’t upset. He never felt annoyed with his precious two-year-old, no matter what she did. Most of the time, he couldn’t summon up enough energy to feel much of anything.

Even when he tried to feel something—anything—outside his underlying love for his baby girl, the numbness reigned supreme. Maybe suffering the worst loss of his life had scorched off all his emotional nerve endings. Or maybe something had gone wrong inside him to the point that it couldn’t be fixed. Sean didn’t honestly know. Only vaguely did he acknowledge that had it not been for Vienna needing him, he might not have bothered with living at all.

A habit? Okay. But is it normal? Wyatt prodded him, and Sean had to concentrate to come up with an answer.

Chelsea said it was.

Oh, okay. Cool, Wyatt said, and Sean knew the case would be closed after that.

He and Wyatt both understood that his nanny, or rather childcare expert—Chelsea Porter would rage quit if she heard him calling her a nanny—had this raising and educating kid’s stuff down. She’d worked at daycares all throughout her teens, and during her undergrad days, she’d spent volunteer time in schools and as an underpaid intern for various family psychologists. Chelsea had chosen to answer his ad for Vienna’s care due to his willingness to pay well as she completed her graduate degree in childhood psychology at Queens College.

And since Chelsea served as a combination of caregiver, emotional support, and instructor for his daughter, she was worth her weight in gold.

Without her and Wyatt, Sean would be more lacking as a father than he already was. Well, without those two and his parents. But it was harder to be around his mom and dad than his best buddy and Chelsea. Quinton and Naomi Graydon were always eager to pitch in with Vee, but anytime they saw Sean they wore their worry on their sleeves like a neon strobe light.

Most likely because they’d been at his side to witness those dark days right after his wife Janae had been killed.

Down, Vienna said, and without argument, Sean released his daughter from her highchair. Ellie?

She named the stuffed pink elephant her mother had made for her. Janae had sewn it stitch by stitch while pregnant with Vee. Their daughter dragged Ellie the elephant everywhere with her and wouldn’t go to sleep without it. Chelsea had to sneak the toy away from her while napping in order to wash the thing.

She’s over on your horse, he told her.

Vienna used her chubby little legs to sprint across the room to her playcenter. He’d stationed the rubber mat made up of giant puzzle pieces in primary colors next to the glass door that led to the balcony he almost never accessed. He only bought the center’s components based on Chelsea’s suggestions, then built it once they were delivered. Over the mat sat an iridescent tent-like structure—its fabric transparent so he could always see her—and a rocking horse she never seemed to get tired of. She’d seized Ellie and hopped on the horse’s seat the moment she reached it.

You know, she’s the inspiration for my newest project. It’s an education app to monitor growth and development in toddlers, then come up with a physical workout and learning plan tailored for each individual child to help them hit their benchmarks more rapidly.

Sean blinked, only having caught about half of that. Not wanting to be a bad friend, though, he plastered what he hoped was an enthusiastic expression on his face. Sounds great.

I hope so. My goal is to have something that will let parents, pediatricians, and school officials work together so no kid is left at a disadvantage in preschool and elementary. Wyatt regarded his goddaughter with pride and affection.

Sean cleaned up her mess, which was minimal all things considered, and tucked her highchair into its slot by the fridge again. While he perpetually kept her in his sights, he tried to avoid studying her closely—allowing himself to truly take in the full impact of her appearance—very often.

The older she became, the more she resembled her mother. She had Janae’s spiraling black curls, deep mahogany irises, and so far, her mother’s pleasant disposition. Her baby soft skin was a cross between his lighter complexion and Janae’s richer, darker South African tone, landing somewhere in the middle. She had her mother’s smile and kind eyes, too, the features he’d most adored about Janae. What Vee had inherited from him was more subtle. The sharper outline of his nose, and his thinner, more oval face. Janae’s had been heart shaped.

He didn’t like admitting that staring at his beloved daughter sometimes hurt.

He’d loved the holy living fuck out of his wife. Sean wished to God that she were here with him now, then stopped himself. Missing Janae didn’t help, didn’t make any difference. He could wish and pray and promise to sell his soul to the devil himself, and it wouldn’t bring her back. Nothing would.

His cell phone rang and figuring it was one of his folks, he went over to the counter where he’d left it charging