Molly - Sarah Monzon Page 0,67

and did were taken from actual events and phrases from my daughter, Arianna. So, I need to start my thanks with her.

Arianna, thank you for blessing my life with yours. I can’t imagine who I’d be without you. Thank you for not only being so stinking cute and sweet and sassy and smart and kind and amazing in every way, but also thank you for letting me remember some of those cute things about you by allowing a fictional character to adopt them. I’m sorry I didn’t ask your permission first but, in my defense, you are only five. Oh, and thank you for letting me off the hook about not making a baby book or scrapbook for you. A novel is so much better, don’t you think?

A special thanks to Rachel McElvain and Mindy Song Houng for lending me your medical expertise in creating Ben. Any discrepancies are totally my own fault and in no way reflect your awesomeness.

Thank you to Toni Shiloh and Janet Ferguson, two of the best critique partners and women in my acquaintance. I hope I never have to write a book without your input.

As always, thank you Katie Donovan, editor extraordinaire, for polishing each word until it shines and investing so much of yourself into authors’ dreams. I appreciate you!

To my own hero, Jose. I love you.

Thank you, Jesus.

Thank you, readers.

Jocelyn

I was eight years old when I saw the movie Gone With the Wind for the first time. I remember the moment vividly: sitting on our threadbare couch (the only furniture in the matchbox-sized living room in our apartment), my little brother sniffling beside me, snot dripping from his nose, and Scarlet O’Hara silhouetted in front of the orange-hued sunset on the tube television as she boldly proclaimed, as God as her witness, she’d never go hungry again.

Something heavy pressed down on my breastbone at that moment. Different from the hollowness in my middle that had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. When Scarlet O’Hara made that vow, I mouthed the words with her…minus the lying, cheating, stealing, and killing addendum she’d tacked on.

That vow had led me to where I was that fateful day in July—sitting in a conference room on the sixth floor of an office building in my role as head of the budget analyst department of a top-tier finance conglomerate, despite the fact I’d never cared for mathematics and had a love/hate relationship with money. I loved the security money brought but hated what people would do to get it. Had I mentioned Scarlett’s willingness to lie, cheat, steal, and kill?

“That about wraps things up.” Jayden, the epitome of a Southern California surfer boy with his sun-soaked blond hair and perpetual tan, spoke from the front of the large oval teak conference table. He’d traded in his Rip Curl board shorts and Oakleys for an Armani suit and shiny Italian loafers, but I wasn’t one to speak.

My closet looked like it belonged to two separate women. On the left hung my tailored business attire, which transformed me into prim and proper Jocelyn Dormus—the woman people could put their trust in to analyze their financial well-being and facilitate a workable budget that would allow them to realize their monetary dreams.

The right side of my walk-in would trigger a blood pressure spike in my clients. Flowy Bohemian dresses with whimsical patterns and carefree material. Though there wasn’t even a hint of correlation, one glance at me in a billowing peasant top, my riotous natural curls confined in an artfully arranged headwrap, and my clients would assume I’d be just as loose with their money.

Tonya, the only other woman sitting around the massive table, poked a perfectly manicured nail in the air. I’d tried to be friendly with her—we women really needed to be allies and stick together in this male-dominated corporate world—but she was cut-throat and had a hard time believing I was for her and not against her. Sad, really.

“The corporate retreat?”

Ten pairs of eyes trained back on Jayden as I slammed my spine straight. I might have let some of the figures that had been droned on about for the last hour float around my head, but I wasn’t about to miss this announcement.

Jayden flushed under our undivided attention and rearranged a stack of papers in front of him. I kind of felt sorry for him, as I wasn’t sure he even wanted to be here. Were the waves of Tourmaline calling to him? Far

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