Secrets & Chance (The Sterlings Book 1) Read online

  THE STERLINGS SERIES

  BOOK ONE

  Z.L. ARKADIE BOOKS

  CONTENTS

  Secrets & Chance The Sterling Series, Book 1

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Join Our Mailing List

  Also By The Author

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 by Z.L. Arkadie Books

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-942857-08-2

  Created with Vellum

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Special Thanks To:

  Red Adept Editing

  Cover by Streetlight Graphics, LLC

  ONE

  ROSALIE STETSON

  Rosalie Stetson guided her car off the freeway exit. The rain started up again as she made a right, drove a number of feet, and stopped on the gravel along the side of the road. The softly purring engine mixed with the sound of water pelting the window. She looked down at the passenger seat and stared at the letter that was sitting on the leather cushion.

  Edna Sterling, Rosalie’s ex-husband’s grandmother, had the letter sent to her by messenger two days ago. Rosalie had been divorced from Peter Sterling for six years. However, during their mostly contentious marriage, she developed a bond with his grandmother, a link they had continued until that very day.

  Rosalie took a deep breath and remembered when she had last spent time with Edna in June. Edna had come to Los Angeles to handle some personal business. Instead of staying at a luxury hotel, she’d spent two days at Rosalie’s humble abode in Pasadena, California.

  A day before her guest’s arrival, Rosalie hired a maid service and had her place cleaned from top to bottom. She drove out to Redondo Beach and stood in line for an hour just to buy a crispy apple pie from Pies in the Sky. Then she fought traffic all the way to Westlake Village and went to Mason’s Cellar because they were the only ones who sold Sterling Vine Premium Rosé for the more affordable price of two hundred fifty dollars a bottle. Produce King in Santa Monica was her last stop. Rosalie bought fresh carrots, celery, butter lettuce, spinach, kale, tomatoes, and more. Edna loved Rosalie's vegetable smoothies. She wanted to make at least two good ones during her guest’s stay. By bedtime, she was exhausted. But in the morning, Edna arrived and sat down to her first piece of her favorite pie.

  “Mm, divine,” Edna said after taking her first bite.

  Rosalie smiled from ear to ear. All of her ripping and running had paid off.

  Later that day, they ate all forms of lobster entrées and shook their shoulders to unknown bands at the Lobster Fest in San Pedro. Then on the following day, Rosalie and Edna drove to Santa Monica early in the morning for a brisk walk along the beach. Next they had breakfast at the Casa Del Mar Hotel then went back to Pasadena for the open-air antiquing mall. However, the most delightful parts of their time spent together were their conversations, which had spanned from politics to business practices to traveling to Rosalie’s nonexistent love life. They would stay up into the wee hours of the morning having them, and on Edna’s last night in town that’s exactly what they did.

  Rosalie took another breath then lifted the envelope off the seat. She opened it and read the letter for the umpteenth time.

  Dear Rosalie,

  On December the 31st, I will have reached the start of my 82nd year on God’s green earth. Of course there has been another party planned in celebration of this milestone. I know, darling, my “descendants” can be quite the challenge, but this year, I would love for you to join them. I will prepare a room for your arrival on the 29th. Please use the reply card to inform me whether or not you will grace us with your presence. We have much to discuss before my final hours.

  Sincerely,

  Edna

  THE RAIN TAPERED down as Rosalie read the last line again. She had received the letter on Tuesday afternoon via overnight express mail . She only had two days to make plans to not only attend Edna’s birthday party but arrive two days early. She immediately called Edna but her call went to voice mail. So she called three more times. Yesterday, she placed more calls and left more messages.

  In her last message to Edna, she said, “Edna, if you don’t answer me now, I’m driving to Blushing Green to see you today.”

  Five minutes later, Edna’s personal assistant, Kathy Lunsford, called and said, “Mrs. Sterling would rather you make her acquaintance on December twenty-ninth. She also would like for you to know that she is in good health and spirits and would prefer that you honor her wishes.”

  Rosalie didn’t know what to think or do. She wavered between insisting Edna get on the phone so she could speak to her or just honoring her wishes. Rosalie finally decided that Edna would never ask her to do anything unless there was a rational reason behind it.

  “Rosalie?” Kathy asked after Rosalie had fallen silent.

  She had sighed regretfully. “Okay. Tell Mrs. Sterling that I’ll see her Thursday.”

  NOW ROSALIE WAS ONLY fifteen miles away from Blushing Green, which was a small town in Northern California, comprised of plush vineyards on one side and an average, tiny, near-coastal mining town on the other. It was also the town her parents moved to before she was born. Her father had taught criminal justice at Santa Rosa College, which was thirty-five minutes away, and her mother had stayed at home to raise Rosalie and her older brother, Norman, who was now a homicide detective in San Francisco. Her parents had been divorced for ten years. When they did it, she wasn’t angry or upset like most eighteen year olds would’ve been after their parents had split. Rosalie thought getting away from each other was the best decision Vera and Richard had ever made.

  Rosalie put the car in drive, checked the rearview mirror, and gave the car some gas. The wheels spun in the mud under her tires. The car zigzagged, but soon, she was back on the road. Her mind immediately went to the last line of Edna’s letter. We have much to discuss before my final hours. What the hell did that mean? Was she terminally ill?

  Rosalie shook her head as she turned onto the freeway on-ramp. For the last three days, she’d refused to let her mind travel down the pathway to Edna’s possible death, so instead, she’d focused on a real impending doom. She was going to see Peter again. There was no way around it. He would be at that party. Not only would he make sure she would see him but he would find some way to make sure she paid for making sure they had followed through with their divorce. If it had bee left up to Peter, they would’ve lived in misery for the rest of their lives. Lucky for her, she hadn’t had to lay eyes on him since they’d finalized the terms of their divorce.

  Rosalie had never steered clear of Edna, but she had made sure she never ran into another Sterling since saying goodbye to Peter and Blushing Green. The Sterlings were a cold clan. They were the kind of people who believed the world should fall on their knees, kiss their feet and know that they were gods, and not just any gods—they were the mean, evil and narcissistic deities of Greek mythology.

  She opened her mouth wide to yawn and then gripped the steering wheel tighter. It was the seventh hour of her long road
trip and boy was she tired. To keep her mind occupied, she allowed herself to be entertained by memories of the first time Peter Sterling had asked her out. From ninth through twelfth grade, their lockers had been next to each other, being that her last name was Stetson and his was Sterling. In the ninth grade, their lockers were side by side. In the tenth grade, his was above hers. But in the eleventh grade, hers was above his. Of course Peter hated having a girl above him, so he asked if she would mind switching.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I’m a foot taller than you for starters.”

  She snorted sarcastically. “A foot? I don’t think so.”

  He rolled his eyes as if she were a peon. “So is that your final answer?” he asked impatiently.

  Rosalie considered Peter Sterling one of those entitled Vineyard Valley kids who thought the world revolved around him. His posture was too straight, and when he walked, his nose pointed too high in the air. Goodness, she couldn’t stand him. The fact that they never spoke—even though they had seen each other practically every day for two, going on three, years—was fine with her. And now he wanted the better locker?

  “Actually, my answer is hell no,” she said in a very unaffected voice. Rosalie then carefully closed her locker and strolled to class. She could feel his baffled gaze on her back. Of course she was truly freaking out on the inside. No one denied Peter Sterling, and the only reason she had walked away from him with such attitude was because she’d seen a similar situation play out on a television show she’d watched the previous Sunday night. It was one of those prime-time dramas in which the women wore too many diamonds, called everyone dahling, flirted with every man that crossed their paths, and from time to time, engaged in epic cat fights. Rosalie’s mom used to love those shows, and so did she.

  When she told her best friend back then, Bellamy Cooper, what had happened, Bellamy chastised her for making the stupidest mistake ever. Regardless, Rosalie spent three days trying to avoid Peter. On the fourth day, he was waiting outside of her trigonometry class.

  “You were right,” he said as soon as she walked out of the room.

  At first, Rosalie thought he was speaking to someone else, but he was looking right at her. Gosh, Peter Sterling was the best-looking guy in the whole school with his wavy brown hair, ice-blue bedroom eyes, and the facial features of an international male model. He was the high school quarterback, class president, and the most popular boy on campus. He was also dating Susan McAvoy, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, junior prom queen, and most likely future senior prom queen. Being the prettiest and most desired girl on campus was an absolute must for the blond, skinny, green-eyed Susan.

  “I was?” Rosalie asked as she continued walking to her next class. Actually, her head was hurting; trigonometry always had that effect on her.

  “That was your locker, not mine.” He grunted with amusement. “You didn’t have to give it to me, and you didn’t.”

  It sounded as if he admired her for the stance she had taken. But for some reason, she couldn’t trust people like Peter.

  “No, I didn’t,” she barely said while hugging her books against her chest.

  “Hey, what are you doing Friday night?” he asked.

  She studied him with one eye narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

  “I wanted to know if you wanted to go to a movie or something.”

  She frowned inquisitively as she nudged herself in the chest. “You want to take me to a movie?”

  His entire face lit up. “Yeah!”

  “Ha!” Rosalie scoffed. “What are you looking to make happen? A Carrie moment?”

  He looked genuinely confused. “A Carrie moment?”

  “You know the movie Carrie, don’t you?”

  His eyebrows ruffled. “Never heard of it.”

  “Everybody’s heard of Carrie.”

  “Not me. And what does that movie have to do with you going out with me on Friday night?”

  They rounded the corner, and her class was only two doors away. She had no time to explain how in the movie Carrie, the popular boy invited the unpopular girl to the prom just to dump pig’s blood on her. However, another thought came to mind.

  “Isn’t Susan your girlfriend?” she asked with a healthy amount of revulsion. Rosalie knew better than to date some girl’s boyfriend, especially a mean girl like Susan. She wasn’t afraid of Susan, but she had seen the pretty, popular girl destroy the reputations of others, and she didn’t want to be her latest victim.

  Peter looked away. “We broke up.”

  “When?” Rosalie asked before she could stop herself. If it were true, that would’ve been some pretty hot high school gossip.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “Yesterday.”

  She stopped before reaching the open door of her classroom. “But why?”

  He stared into her eyes for the longest time as curious students filed into the classroom. “You’re very pretty, Rosalie.”

  She was choked up and sort of turned on. She couldn’t ever remember a boy looking at her that way. Actually, she could.

  Rosalie had spent the summer at her aunt Candace’s house in San Diego. Kim, her cousin, had shown her how to shampoo and condition her hair so that it always looked soft because, as Kim had said, boys liked it. Kim had also told her to always wear mascara and red lipstick so she would always look her best. Rosalie hadn’t even been interested in boys until that summer. But the more attention she’d received after following Kim’s tips, the more confident she’d felt and the more she’d started thinking about being with a guy—not going all the way, but at least making it to first base.

  Peter stood close to her. She thought about how his height made her feel safe. She also thought he didn’t smell too good. He had just come from football practice and hadn’t showered. Rosalie looked down at her shoes. She knew she was blushing. Her face was hot, and her palms were damp.

  “I have to go.” She quickly turned in to the classroom.

  To her surprise, Peter followed her and sat down right next to her.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “You have this class?”

  He furrowed his brows as he looked around the classroom then at the teacher, who was sitting up front. “What class is this?”

  “Government.”

  “Oh.” He made himself comfortable in his seat. “No.”

  “Then what are you doing in here?”

  “Waiting for you to say yes.”

  The classroom was filling up fast. Those sitting nearby had already figured out what was happening and were watching the spectacle Peter was making of himself. Rosalie felt stubborn yet flattered. Heck, her cousin Kim’s tips had worked in San Diego, and now they were working in Blushing Green.

  She looked at the clock and saw they had only one minute before the bell rang. “You’re going to be late.”

  “So what?” he asked with that sense of entitlement that always made him her enemy.

  If only she had followed her gut. A guy like Peter Sterling could never be the one for her. She wanted a modest man who was smart, mature, and nice. As far as she knew, Peter Sterling was the opposite of that. But looking at those blue eyes and those soft pink lips of his, Rosalie felt she could kiss him all night long and not miss a wink of sleep.

  “Okay, I’ll go out with you,” she said, not wanting to take it back.

  Smiling victoriously, Peter shot to his feet and practically ran out of the classroom before the bell rang. For a moment, she thought he wasn’t entitled after all because he didn’t want to be late for his next class.

  ON THEIR FIRST DATE, Rosalie smelled and looked her best. One date turned into more, and she and Peter dated all that year. Susan never exacted revenge on Rosalie for dating her ex-boyfriend because she had actually cheated on Peter with his best friend, Rick. During the summer before Rosalie and Peter entered the twelfth grade, Rick broke it off with Susan before moving on to Colorado State University, where he eventually flunked out because he enjoyed p
artying more than studying.

  Once senior year began, Susan made a play to win Peter back. But by then, Peter was wholly dedicated to Rosalie, especially after he injured himself during the first football game of the season. He’d pulled a groin muscle, and the doctor advised that if he wasn’t going to play college or professional football, there had been no use putting in the effort to overcome the injury in high school.

  As she exited the highway to get gas, Rosalie remembered the look on Peter’s face when he’d told her that he had to quit the football team. He’d had the same facial expression after their lawyers had hammered out their divorce settlement. He’d been relieved to get rid of football, and six years after they’d married, days after her nineteenth birthday, he had been relieved to get rid of her.

  The red light turned green at the end of the circular off-ramp. Rosalie guided her car up the narrow road until she reached the gas station. It was fifty-three degrees, and she was wearing a seventy-degree outfit. Her cap-sleeved T-shirt and stretchy black pants were comfortable for a nine-hour drive up north. Instead of reaching into the backseat to grab her black jacket, Rosalie took her chances on the cold being kind to her. She rushed out of the car, swiped her debit card, and inserted the pump into the tank. She hugged her cold arms as she waited. It must have been raining a lot lately. The sweet scent of wet grass and faint fragrance of the salty ocean lingered in the air. The Pacific Ocean was twenty-six miles away.

  Seventeen dollars’ worth of gas was in the tank when a cream-colored SUV pulled up behind Rosalie’s more modest but current sedan. She hugged herself tighter, regretting not putting on her jacket, as she squinted at the front of the large vehicle. It was a beautiful piece of machinery and had definitely cost a pretty penny.

  A man briskly exited the driver’s side with a cell phone pressed against his ear. He wore black jogging pants and a black zip-up hoodie over a white T-shirt. His clothes hugged him in all the right places. It had been a while since she’d been sexual with a guy. It usually took more than what a man looked like or drove to send her into a lustful stupor, but for some reason, there she stood, admiring the stranger’s sexy physique.