Worth the Effort: The Worth Series Book 3 Read online

  Worth the Effort

  The Worth Series Book 3

  Weston Parker

  BrixBaxter Publishing

  Contents

  Find Weston Parker

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Insider’s Group

  About the Author

  Find Weston Parker

  www.westonparkerbooks.com

  Description

  Alexander Drake has the perfect life on paper. Mounds of money, plenty of power, and a supermodel on his arm who has just agreed to be his wife. So why does it all feel so empty and pointless? It isn’t until he meets a curvy caterer that he realizes exactly what he’s been missing.

  * * *

  Lila Johnstone is living her dream. Starting a high-end catering business in the big city, she’s elated to land her first real client. But the millionaire businessman seems intent on mixing business with pleasure. She’s willing to give him a chance, until she discovers the party she’s catering is his engagement party, to another woman.

  * * *

  When Alex’s fiancée learns about his interest in the caterer, she sets him up, then sets out to smear him in the press, causing Lila to lose her business before it even gets off the ground. And that’s not the only obstacle, as Lila’s ex reappears to remind her of her bitter past, and another caterer tries to persuade her to partner up, and not just as business partners. But Alex is determined to make Lila realize that he’ll give up everything to prove himself to her. Will she give him another chance at her heart?

  Worth the Effort

  * * *

  Copyright © 2017 by Weston Parker

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

  * * *

  First Edition.

  * * *

  Editor: Mary Wolney

  Designer: Kellie Dennis, Book Covers By Design

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Lila Johnstone wiped the sweat off her brow as she hovered on the outskirts of the crowd. She'd always thought the expression about not being able to stand the heat in the kitchen was a foolish one, and her opinion had not changed. The kitchen inside was hot, but she thought she might weep when she'd have to leave it behind.

  Masterson's equipment was flawless. Modern. A cook's dream. Pots were simmering, trays of appetizers were perfectly plated by experienced servers, and an army of tiny tarts were almost ready to be taken out of the oven. But she was outside, standing behind the collection of packed tables which had been organized on the mansion's lawn, nearly hidden in the shadow of the balcony that ran the length of the huge house.

  She'd been ecstatic when Janna had asked her to cater her wedding to millionaire Brice Masterson. It was the opportunity Lila had been waiting for, and the payment she'd receive for this job would allow her to start the next phase of her career. Of her life.

  Her attention was drawn to the head table where the happy couple were sharing a laugh. The bride's eyes were shining, a smile that she'd worn since Lila had seen the couple escorted into their reception with shouts of congratulations and a fall of streamers still gracing her lovely face. Janna Puchina, now Janna Masterson, was an exquisite bride, more than a match in beauty for her well-formed husband.

  Brice Masterson was also smiling, but his handsome face looked a little lost at the commotion around him. Until he laid eyes on his new wife. Then a look of such devotion covered his features that Lila had to turn away, as if a hand was pressing down on her own heart. To have a man look at her like that, now that would be something.

  Janna's father, a tall man with a slight paunch and a twinkle in his blue eyes, was regaling the crowd about his little girl's notorious inability to choose a direction in life. Lila was familiar with Janna's struggle. They'd been classmates at the local community college when the attractive redhead had decided to join the culinary arts program. Unlike Lila, Janna's heart hadn't really been in cooking, and before long she'd been off on another tangent, transferring to the university to pursue a PhD in biology. Still, she and Lila had become fast friends for the couple months they'd had classes together. Janna was smart, quirky, with a good sense of humor and more tenacity than most. She'd kept in touch after she'd transferred, and now she'd asked Lila to cater her wedding.

  And what a wedding it was. Or reception, actually, although Lila assumed the church ceremony had been lovely. She'd been unable to attend, too busy getting things ready. In truth, she hadn't wanted to brave the church with its horde of paparazzi and curious public stationed outside, cameras clicking and the crowd clamoring for a glimpse of the couple. But the Masterson estate was surrounded by security so no uninvited guests could get close to the private reception. Lila was uncomfortable around crowds and abstractly terrified of the press so she was grateful that the reception was calm and smallish, unlike the media circus she'd visualized the wedding being.

  Lila took in the scene around her. Dozens of well-dressed people were seated at the multitude of white-draped tables that dotted the lawn. Expensive flower arrangements bloomed all around them, and paper lanterns and lights were strung above them, ready to be lit when the sun set and the dancing began. Not that Lila would be dancing. She'd be back in the kitchen, finishing up the last preparations and then beginning the massive task of cleaning up her mess.

  She didn't dance. Unless you counted shaking her wide hips to her iPod while baking. But she never danced with a partner, and that wasn't going to change tonight.

  She caught sight of the happy couple again. Janna was burying her face in Brice's broad shoulder as laughter shook her at her father's words. The older man winked in their direction as he wrapped up his speech. "Although she might never find the right career for herself, it seems Janna had no problem picking the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with."

  Lila watched Brice's slow smile as Janna's father raised his glass. The crowd resounded with their applause "to the Bride and Groom." Lila turned back to the double doors that led inside to the kitchen's welcoming heat. But before she could enter, a deep melodic voice drew her attention back to the festivities.

  "I'm probably the last person you're expecting to hear give a toast," the voice said, "since it's well known that Brice and I have been rivals since college. It's a testament to just how special Janna is that I'm here speaking to you now."

  Lila's heart sputtered in her chest as her gaze settled on the speaker. To say the man was handsome would be like saying the devil was a naughty boy. He was tall, at least six feet, lean but well-muscled. His hair was dark a
nd thick, midnight brushing the golden skin above his collar. He had a dangerous air, and when he smiled he stole Lila's breath.

  She'd never seen a more attractive man, and her intention of returning to work disappeared. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

  "It's no secret that Brice and I are competitive. He's lost more than one lady to my superior charm." Lila's eyes flicked to the head table. Brice's face was tight, his eyes wary. It was clear that he didn't entirely trust the speaker, and a thread of unease worked its way up Lila's spine.

  "I'm not gonna lie," the handsome man continued, and Lila thought she recognized a hint of a southern drawl in his words, "when I met Janna, I had every intention of stealing her from Brice. And who could blame me? She's smart, sexy, and possessed of a host of talents ranging from biological research to abstract painting. Her taste in movies is sophisticated as well, as evidenced by her liking of the Die Hard series. Just the first two movies, of course."

  Light laughter rippled through the crowd. A grimace took up residence on Brice's face until Janna stroked his cheek and his expression melted into a gentle smile. Lila wished then that she had a man to touch like that, a man who would look at her with the light of love in his eyes. It wouldn't hurt if that man was also brutally handsome with a southern drawl.

  Lila fanned herself. The heat's made you delirious. But she wasn't in the kitchen. And it was a different kind of heat.

  The dark-haired gentleman continued his toast, the cocky half-smile on his face changing as he became serious. "Although I thought about stealing her at first, I quickly realized that she wasn't the type of woman who could be stolen. Janna became my friend, something I have few enough of, and something I cherish now. So Brice, you better treat her right, or so help me I will steal her from you!"

  The laughs were louder this time. Lila thought she saw Brice's expression tighten, but it gave way to a chuckle after Janna kissed him on his cheek. The look that passed between the happy couple made a surprising burn of jealousy flare up inside her belly. Lila frowned and turned back to the house, trying to ignore her envy.

  Janna deserved the love of a handsome millionaire, and love her he obviously did. But handsome millionaires didn't grow on trees, and most seemed to be reserved for beautiful women like her friend. That meant some women would have to go without.

  Lila held back a sigh as she retied her apron strings and opened the stove. At least her tarts were beautiful.

  * * *

  Alexander Drake stood against one of the pillars that supported the second-story porch, taking in the scene around him. Holdin' up the wall, his momma would have said, meaning that he should have been doing something useful and not something unnecessary. At least, that's what he'd always assumed she'd meant.

  His date had deserted him after the wedding ceremony. An alleged event that she was contractually obligated to attend. But it could have been the lack of press and looky-loos at the reception that had hastened her exit.

  Alana Morgan, his girlfriend of a year and three months, liked having pictures taken of her. He supposed it was a good thing in her line of work. But the cameras were absent from the reception, save the ones belonging to the wedding photographer, and those pics wouldn't be made public.

  So he was here alone, watching what he'd once considered his nemesis getting married to someone who might just be his best friend. It could have felt awkward, especially following his toast, but instead he felt empty. He was thirty five and had built an empire that made him one of the wealthiest men in the country. He'd achieved every goal that he'd set for himself. And lately, it felt like he'd been passing time.

  Maybe this wedding was the inspiration he needed. Since college Brice Masterson had been the yardstick he'd measured himself against, even if he didn't always like to admit that fact. And now Brice had found a lovely woman and had accepted the shackles of matrimony. Alex didn't think he'd ever seen someone so happy to be lugging around a ball and chain. Still, it had prospects.

  Perhaps he was aging out of the millionaire playboy set as well. His relationship with Alana might be telling, as it had lasted over a year and he hadn't broken it off yet. He wasn't so blind to his feelings to think he was in love with her. Alana was beautiful, skilled with the press, and exactly the kind of arm candy a man like him needed for the endless parade of social events that had started taking over his calendar as his bank account had grown bigger. But Alana didn't have his heart.

  Alex wasn't sure if any woman ever would. That's fine. It's stupid to mix love and business anyway. It always makes your bottom line suffer.

  Still, marriage might not be a bad idea. He'd had a steady string of lovelies since the press had started paying attention to him, after he'd ruthlessly taken over the stumbling business of a former frat brother whose father happened to be the Governor of great state of Louisiana. It had caused him perverse joy to dismantle the empire their family had been building since the Civil War, likely off the backs of misguided taxpayers who'd kept voting one corrupt family member after another into office since 1872.

  Alex smiled at the memory, but the recall no longer caused the rush he associated with his self-righteous revenge. He'd felt less and less of anything lately, no cresting adrenalin, in his career or his social life. Although he'd never been without a body to warm his antique canopy bed, he'd never made a long-term commitment to anyone. Most assumed he was enjoying his carefree lifestyle, a roguish bee buzzing from flower to flower, sampling each but never spending much time with one in particular.

  Until Alana. Their relationship had lasted longer than any of his others since high school. Although he felt a fondness for her and some attraction, there were no deeper feelings. Alana knew how to network, how to greet a fellow member of the fashionable set -- a kiss on the right cheek, then the left, then the right again -- and how to shine on a red carpet. Those qualities would be beneficial as a mogul's wife. She generated enough positive press to make up for her lackluster performance in bed and his absence of affection.

  Not to mention that they'd been together long enough that it was expected they'd either marry or split up soon. A sliver of guilt made him consider the splitting up option. Alana deserved a husband that was in love with her, didn't she?

  Does that mean you deserve a woman who's in love with you?

  A corner of his mouth tilted into a wry smile at his inner voice's protest. Love wasn't likely, not the kind of love like Brice and Janna had found. Not with his predilections and his position in society. A marriage of convenience would be simpler.

  It wasn't as if other women hadn't offered their love to him before. But it has never felt genuine. It was the fantasy of love prompted by the illusion he presented to the public. The cultured, urbane millionaire, ruthless in the boardroom and matchless in the bedroom. At least that was the impression he was trying to put out. But it was only an impression, only half the story of his life. And a woman who told him she loved him when she'd only knew half the man wasn't one that he kept around for long.

  At least in Alana he knew he'd found a kindred spirit. It was all about branding, and Alana Morgan protected her image as fiercely as a mother bear did her cubs. Her moves were always made with an eye toward public perception, and while they might sometimes seem risqué or counterintuitive, she always ended up with the spin in her favor.

  If he asked, Alana wouldn't turn him down. Despite the fact that he'd never said the L-word to her. Miss Alana Morgan knew what she wanted, and her actions made it clear that money and notoriety were higher priorities than affairs of the heart. She was the type to entertain herself when he was called out of town on business, to turn a blind eye if he decided to stray.

  The thought made him lean his head against the pillar and stare at the coming twilight.

  Not long ago, he'd intended to seduce the blushing bride in his customary attempt to cause Brice Masterson misery. He'd never once considered Alana's reaction if she'd discovered his indiscretion with Janna. Was it because he didn't ca
re about the model's feelings? Or because he knew she wouldn't care about his actions? Which was worse?

  Alex ran a hand through his hair as if he could brush these thoughts out of his mind at the same time. The last few months he'd found his thoughts turning maudlin more and more often. Perhaps he was losing his zeal for empire building. And sleeping around. And the desire for revenge against Masterson and his ilk that had burned so hotly for most of his twenties had diminished over the years until he wondered if the coals had gone out at last.

  Enough of this weepin' and wailin'. Stick to facts, like the columns of a balance sheet.

  Alana would make a decent wife for a man in his position. If he left her, he might not find another so well suited to handle his lifestyle but self-absorbed enough to require very little of his time. Although he'd had other women who were just as polished as the supermodel, they'd almost all wanted more of his time, more of his affection. More of him. Much more than he was willing to give. He grimaced at the thought of another decade breaking hearts and making mortal enemies of his female peers.

  If he married Alana instead of leaving her, he wouldn't have to put any effort into finding the next Alana to string out until his boredom or her expectations drove them apart. Besides, there was always speculation when a man decided to remain a lifelong bachelor. Better to avoid such unpleasantness and get himself hitched. Maybe start a family.