All They Loved: Bennett Family, #10

By Rhonda McKnight

Leela Ingram is starting over after her divorce from her cheating husband. She's relocated and lucked into a great career as an event planner. Leela is determined to be successful at maintaining and elevating her new business. She's focused until she meets television executive, Kiefer Bennett, whose charm, and down-to-earth personality are hard to resist.

Kiefer is overwhelmed by his new position as VP of programming for Bennett Television. Conversations with Leela are a distraction he needs. When he discovers she's burdened by financial struggles Kiefer proposes a unique arrangement that includes Leela working for him part time and dog sitting while he travels for business. Their professional relationship soon evolves into something more, as Kiefer needs her in ways that consume not only her heart, but her time.

Love is inevitable, but will their romance have a chance once someone from Leela's past resurfaces, and Kiefer's insecurities and a complex secret he's been keeping becomes known.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rhonda McKnight
• Release date: Nov 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223147992

Rhonda McKnight

Rhonda McKnight is the author of several bestselling novels, including An Inconvenient Friend and What Kind of Fool. She is the winner of the 2015 Emma Award for Inspirational Romance of the Year. She loves reading and writing books that touch the heart of women through complex plots and interesting characters in crisis. Themes of faith, forgiveness, and hope are central to her stories. Originally from a small coastal town in New Jersey, Rhonda writes from the comfort of her South Carolina home. Visit her online at rhondamcknight.com; Instagram: @authorrhondamcknight; Twitter: @rhondamcknight; Facebook: @BooksByRhonda; and Pinterest: @rhondamcknight1.

Book preview

All They Loved

Rhonda McKnight

Dedication

For Unoma Nwankwor – You are an undeniable force in my life.  

Prologue

One year before...

Leela Ingram knew better than to take calls from unknown numbers. However, ignoring them wasn’t making the calls go away. In fact, they were increasing in frequency. That was why she told herself, face your problems head on .

But now that she was on the phone, she regretted that she’d allowed herself to be put in this situation...again.

Ma’am? Are you still there? the voice on the other end inquired.

Yes, Leela replied, her tone cautious.

We need to know when we can expect a payment from you.

Leela ground out the words, This is not my debt.

You are the cosigner on the vehicle.

I know, but it’s my ex-husband’s car.

We’re not able to reach him.

Because he’s probably smart enough not to answer his phone, Leela thought bitterly.

Leela cleared her throat. My understanding is that you got the car back.

We did, but there is still a balance, which includes the remaining loan amount and the recovery fees of forty-eight hundred dollars.

And you think you’re going to get that from me when I never drove that car a day in my life.

You cosigned for the loan, making you equally liable for the debt as Mr. Morris.

His address hasn’t changed. Can’t you send a subpoena or something?

We have reached out to Mr. Morris, but we have you, and you’re a lienholder on this account as well.

I’m not paying for it. The judge ordered him to pay it in the divorce.

The divorce order is for debts that you individually incurred. That does not include this one. If you don’t make some arrangements, we’re going to have to take legal action against you.

Like what? Court? Wouldn’t it cost you more to sue me?

No. We add legal fees onto your balance. Now, what are you willing to do, Mrs. Morris?

Leela wasn’t Mrs. Morris. Not anymore. And this was why. That’s what she told herself. It wasn’t the whole reason. The whole reason was that she had walked into her house one day, after having left work sick, only to find Mr. Morris in bed with their neighbor—the grungy gamer chick he had always talked about so negatively.

Men.

She hated them. Well, maybe not all of them, but definitely Brad. 

Mrs. Morris? the voice on the phone prompted.

Stop calling me that. I told you my name is not Mrs. Morris.

"Okay, Not Mrs. Morris, I need to know your intentions."

Leela pulled the phone away from her ear. Oh no, she didn’t. What kind of bill collector had a fly mouth?

She wanted to know her intentions. Leela intended to scream once she hung up the phone. She intended to stop at the bakery and indulge in cake and cookies, preferably with nuts, on her way home. She intended to consume it all and then cry herself to sleep. Those were her intentions, even though gaining more weight wouldn’t help the situation. But it was the only thing she could afford that made her feel better, even temporarily.

I’m thinking, Leela replied, genuinely trying to figure out what she could afford to do. She had to offer them something. She had to rebuild her credit. Not paying bills was not a good way to start the reset her finances needed.

I can pay forty dollars a month, Leela proposed.

We’ll need more than that. This account has been with our agency for ninety days already.

You can’t get blood from a turnip. It’s forty or nothing. And no, I will not let you set up auto debits from my account. She knew that was the next question.

They talked more about the details with Leela hanging up and walking back into the office building.

Leela dropped into her chair. Her eyes fixed on the large screens displaying the live lottery drawing. Her fingers tapped nervously against the desk, a subtle sign of her mounting desperation. The weight of her debts bore heavily on her mind, and she couldn’t help but yearn for a stroke of luck.

The room buzzed with anticipation as the lottery drawing commenced. The familiar voice of the lottery host echoed through the speakers, sending a ripple of excitement through the office that everyone pretended they didn’t feel.

People won the lottery. Old people heading toward retirement, young people beginning their lives and people like her...people with worry lines that hinted at an intense need for the money. 

Leela was one of those people. Desperate, needing, wanting to win because if she didn’t...her life could not restart as she’d hoped. She was saddled in debt and not only debt, but bad credit.

And the first number is... 16!

Her heart quickened. She had that one. Leela reached for her pen, preparing to jot down the numbers on a piece of paper. Her knuckles tightened around the pen.

Summoning her willpower, Leela took a deep breath. Her gaze locked on the screen, praying for a miracle.

Next up... 7!

A flicker of hope danced in her heart. She had that one too. Her palms instantly grew sweaty with anticipation. She whispered a silent plea, her hopes pinned on the next number as she prayed. Please, please, God.

32.

Her stomach dropped.

18!

It had all gone south.

And the final number is... 22!

Three out of five. I’ve won enough for another ticket, she murmured. She should have known better than to pray to win the lottery. She folded the piece of paper and dropped it into the trash basket under her desk.

Leela straightened her posture. Tear-filled eyes fixed on the computer screen, her fingers danced across the keyboard as she resumed her work. Her fortune didn’t lie in the numbers drawn from a lottery machine, but in her own resilience and tenacity. She needed a new job...a new plan...an opportunity.

She whispered, her voice barely audible. God, I’m sorry about the gambling, but I know you have better for me.

Her phone pinged in a text message. She reached for it, noting it was from her cousin Sienna Ingram. It read:

Do you still want to get out of Florida? I need an assistant.

God heard her prayer. Just like that, her life was about to change.

Chapter 1

The pristine white walls and sparkling marble floors of the luxurious apartment mocked Leela’s empty bank account and low FICO score. No matter how many times she crunched the numbers, they refused to budge in her favor. With a heavy sigh, she shoved the brochure in her bag and turned to face the leasing agent.

Thank you, Leela said, forcing a smile. I’ll think about it.

The leasing agent’s eyes roamed the room like she knew she was working with prime real estate. Take your time, Ms. Ingram. We’ll hold the unit for twenty-four hours, but after that, I can’t make any guarantees.

That’s what they all said.

Leela walked through the lobby, her Prada stilettos clicking expensively on the tile like she could afford them. She and Harper were the same size and Leela was appreciative of her cousin’s hand-me-downs so she could at least look the part when she met with clients and well...leasing agents who would certainly wonder if she had the money for their property. She did not.

Leela pushed the heavy door open and made her way through the thick humidity to her SUV. She was glad to be out of there. She was small and insignificant compared to the grandeur of the building. The only thing keeping her together today was the fact that the Tahoe helped her save face. It was a company vehicle, left to her with all the other collateral when she took over Dream Events. If she’d been driving her old Honda, the weight of her financial struggles would show up before she even entered the leasing offices. At least they offered her cookies and coffee with respect because they assumed she could afford their units. Frustration pressed heavily on her chest. She pulled the door shut. Its cavernous sound echoing her sense of hopelessness.

Okay, Leela, breathe, she muttered to herself, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She glanced at the rear-view mirror, catching sight of her dark brown eyes filled with frustration. Where was she going to live?

She’d come to Georgia for a fresh start, but her stale finances were holding her back. She started the engine and pulled away from the curb, her mind racing with thoughts of how she would find an affordable place to live in Forest Hills.

It was then that her phone rang, breaking her reverie. Glancing at the screen, she saw her sister Chelsea’s name flash across the display.

Hey, Chels, Leela said, her voice heavy with emotion she couldn’t hide.

How’s the apartment hunting going? Chelsea’s voice carried optimism Leela wished she shared.

Ugh, not great, she admitted, biting her lip. I just left another place, and it was way over my budget.

Have you thought about asking Dad for a loan?

Leela shook her head, even though her sister couldn’t see her. No, I can’t do that. I already owe him money.

Leela, you know he’d help you, Chelsea insisted, and then after a pause said, Why don’t you stay with Harper and Logan for a little while longer? It’s not like they’re kicking you out, right?

Leela had explained why she was moving to her sister, but Chelsea didn’t get it. Harper’s due any day now. Logan’s already announced he’s going to be working from home for the first three months. I don’t want to be in the way.

But how could you be in the way? It’s an enormous house.

Chelsea was right. Harper and Logan’s home was like six thousand square feet, but it only had four bedrooms. It was all kitchen and massive living spaces. With the new nursery, that only left two bedrooms for guests and she was one of them. After the baby arrived, they’d have other people coming and going. The Bennett family was huge.

I’ve been living with them since last year. They’re sweet and I know Harper means it when she says stay, but it’s better to leave before the welcome mat gets pulled from under my feet.

Chelsea conceded, All right, well, let me know if you need any help. I’ve got to run, but I love you. Keep your head up.

Love you too, Leela said, ending the call and doing her best to push her fears aside.

As she drove past the familiar streets of Forest Hills, Leela’s thoughts turned to the Ingram family house, her cousin’s home that hardly had anyone in it because Sienna was often in West Georgia working with her fiancé, Mason. No one had offered a room in the house. They were oddly territorial about their deceased parents’ home and of course no one knew her business. They didn’t know she was broke and uncreditworthy. She was too ashamed to say so.

Feeling overwhelmed by the cloud of uncertainty that hung over her, Leela decided to seek solace in her favorite thing. A cupcake. That’s what she needed, and it was also within her means. She turned on Main Street and headed to Sweet Delights Bakery.

Her phone rang. It was Brad, requesting a FaceTime chat. She sighed. Leela pulled off to the side of the road. She desperately needed to block him, but he had the dog and an important set of photo albums that she’d forgotten to take. She didn’t want him to burn her pictures. Brad had a temper, so blocking him wasn’t a good idea. She answered his call.

Brad was lying on the bed. His hair and beard were longer than he usually let them grow. He had a vape pen in his mouth and he looked tired, which meant he drank too much the night before.

He scrunched up his face and whistled. Dang, babe. You lookin’ fine.

Leela rolled her eyes. What is it, Brad? I’m going into a meeting with a client. She was not, but she still had on her workface and clothing, so she looked professional enough to carry the lie.

"Meetings and