Zoya Hart has been eluding her gold-digging stepmother for the last few years. Knowing that this woman will do anything to gain control of her and her late father's company, Zoya finds herself hiding out on a farm. Now, with a PI on her trail, Zoya'...
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Before Roman started wardrobe shopping, he made a quick stop by the building supply. He was eager to get the renovations done so he could invite Ophelia and his stepbrother, Manfred Flynn, before Ophelia started her new job.
Ophelia would start as a junior associate at her girlfriends' father's firm, but she was on the fast track to becoming a full partner in one of the most prestigious law firms in New Orleans.
At least Dad had Ophelia and Flynn, to be proud of, but what else was new? Even when Roman had gotten a full athletic scholarship to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, it hadn't won Dad's favor. No matter how hard Roman tried, nothing had ever been enough. He was the only biological child of his, and maybe that made him unlovable. Thank goodness he finally understood and didn't give a shit.
Sure, he'd once dreamed of being a CEO of a major company, if for no other reason than to prove he could amount to something regardless of what the old man thought. But truth was Roman had no control over how his father or anyone else judged him. God knew he'd tried that route. Bent over backwards to make the best grades, worked hard to excel in football and set the right example. That's why it'd been a surprise when Dad asked his buddy, Derek, to give Roman a summer part-time job.
Roman had taken the gesture as a sign things were getting better with his father. And they had for a while, but when the place burned down, Dad had been first in line to believe the worst. He'd known Derek Grimald for twenty years. No way would he lie. Yeah. Right. Wonder what Dad thought about Grimald now?
Two sharp raps on the back of the truck shook the thought from his mind. The delivery man closed the tailgate. "You're good to go, Mr. DeRoux. Thank you for your business."
Roman waved to the loader, then drove away. Fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of Daniel's Duds. Stupid name, but the clothes in the window looked good. It'd been a long time since he'd bought anything but jeans and casual shirts, so he figured a professional's help couldn't hurt.
Turned out, Danny was quite the salesman and Roman bought more than he needed. As he loaded the shopping bags into the backseat, a young boy carrying a box approached. A mop of brown hair fell in waves over his small head. He wore an oversized Spongebob shirt and wrinkled plaid shorts. Green sneakers had holes in both toes. He looked to be about five and should be in school.
"Hey, mister. You want a puppy? I just got one left." He set the box down and removed the scraggly dog. "He's housebroken and everything."
Mixed breed for sure, but resembled a Wirehaired Terrier, mostly brown, with a tuft of gray between ears and around his muzzle. Talk about puppy dog eyes. Those big chocolate peepers stared up at him as if begging for a new home. "What's the everything?"
"Huh?"
Roman scanned the street for an adult but saw none. Who'd let a kid this age camp out downtown with no supervision? "You said house broke and everything, so what's the everything you're talking about?"
