This beautiful standalone
contemporary romance by Claire Contreras is NOW LIVE! #ClaireWrites
Meet Mia and Jensen in Paper
Hearts.
Grab your copy at:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1KSiifj
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Blurb…
I lost her.
No, I didn't lose her. I threw
her away.
She was my best friend.
I was never supposed to fall in
love with her.
I was careless.
She was heartbroken.
I thought I was doing fine. But
here she is, years later, forced to work with me,
reminding me why I fell in love
with her in the first place.
And this time I'm going to do
everything in my power to never let her go.
Prologue
Jensen
I don’t
take ownership in a lot of things. I rent an apartment, lease a car, and go to
a no-contract gym. I have a wandering heart—an incessant mind. It’s hard for me
to look at something and see forever; though I had a forever once.
I
let her go, not because I loved her too much to ask her to stay, but because I
couldn’t bear to hear her tell me she wouldn’t. Still, every once in a while I
wonder.
And
nothing is more haunting than regret.
Chapter 1
Mia
I used
to wonder what I would do if I had the chance to go back in time and right
something. Would I take it? Would I look at it as a second opportunity, or
would I just let it go, knowing the experiences I went through and learned
from?
Discomfort
spread through me as I walked into the building of my new, albeit temporary,
job. The feeling stayed there, stuck to the lining inside of my uneasy stomach,
echoing its way into my mind until I reached the twentieth floor of the
building. As I exited the elevator and stepped into the lobby of the magazine,
a smiling brunette, who was sorting through a colorful cup of pens, greeted me.
Something about her—maybe her fidgetiness, the Lisa Loeb look she had going, or
the welcoming smile on her face—made me breathe a little easier.
“How
can I help you?” she asked in a singsong voice as she swiveled slightly in her
chair.
“I’m
here to see Mrs.—I mean, Dr. Zamora.”
“Fran,”
she said. “She likes to be called Fran. Are you Mia?”
“Yes.”
The
girl smiled and gave me a quick onceover. “Cool. I’m Katie. Let me make sure
she’s in. Take a seat.”
I
let out a breath as I placed my bag on the floor and sat across from her in a
sleek white chair, taking in the vast space filled with photographs shot by
people whose work I admired. In an effort to calm my nerves, I picked up one of
the magazines beside me and leafed through it, and even went as far as to try
to channel my inner zen, remembering what an incredible yoga session I’d had
earlier that morning. But nothing worked. That sticky feeling of what did I get
myself into? could not be soothed.
It
felt like the time I let my twin brother talk me into letting him cut my hair
so that we could “really be twins,” and I ended up looking like Peter Pan for
two months while my mother cried into her pillow every night. I fished out my
phone and contemplated sending him a text. Rob had always been the brave twin,
with words of wisdom to get me through these times. But, I’d dug my grave, and
now I had to lie in it.
When
I ran into my favorite college professor months ago, a local magazine had just
published some of my pictures for a special they were circulating. The
accomplishment I felt at telling her this dwindled when she asked the dreaded
words: what next? But then she offered me the opportunity of a lifetime: to
take pictures for a huge magazine, one I probably wouldn’t have had an
opportunity to work for had my professor’s sister not been the person in charge
of the project. The catch, of course, unbeknownst to my professor or her sister,
was that my exboyfriend, The Dream Crusher, wrote for the same magazine. But
I’d have been an idiot to turn it down. Regardless of where I worked after
this, to have this experience on my resume would be incredible.
“She
just got here,” Katie said, jerking me out of my thoughts. I stood quickly,
hitching my bag on my shoulder as the glass door to my right opened and a tall
woman with an uncanny resemblance to my professor—wild red hair and bright
green eyes—walked through it.
I
laughed when she winked at me. After she hired me for this job, we started
following each other on any social media that allowed for stalking.
“It’s
like we’ve been friends forever.”
“Social
media will do that,” she responded with a laugh as she turned on her heels.
“Let me show you around.”
If
Fran were a car, she’d be in fourth gear at all times. By the time she finished
showing me around the place and we got back to her office, my legs felt like
they were on fire. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the heels I was wearing, or
because I had to take four strides to her two. Being short could be a bit of a
curse.
“We
already got the clearance from W Magazine and are keeping the title ‘What Would
You Do With Your Second Chance?’ I’m sure they told you already,” she said as
we each took a seat.
They
hadn’t told me anything. Not that it mattered. I’d taken pictures for an
article with a similar name, but it was for a small, local magazine, nothing of
this stature.
“I
hope your friends don’t mind that we’re stealing their limelight,” Fran added
with a smile. She’d become completely fascinated by the fact that the couple on
the cover of the magazine, my best friend and her now-husband, were a second
chance love story.
“They
definitely don’t mind,” I replied with a laugh. “They wanted to kill me when
they saw the magazine in our grocery stores, so replacing it will be a good
thing.
”
She laughed. “Were they uneasy because they weren’t an official couple yet?”
“Basically.
Her brother wanted to kill Oliver … the guy,” I paused to clarify before
continuing, “when he found out about the whole thing.”
“But
it’s so romantic,” Fran said, letting out a deep sigh.
“I
guess it is.”
“Oh,
don’t tell me you’re one of those girls!”
“One
of what girls?”
“The
ones who are all ‘I don’t need a man’ and ‘I hate romance.’” She rolled her
eyes, but I could tell she was biting back a smile as she said it.
I
shrugged. “I’m not any kind of girl. I don’t need a man, but I don’t hate
romance. I think I’m kind of obsessed with romance, really, which is probably
why I’m still single.”
Fran
laughed loudly. “Funny how that works, right? I’ll tell you what, had it not
been for Match, I would have never met mine. I’m sure you don’t need any help
finding a guy, though.” She waved the length of my torso as if she was
presenting me to someone as some kind of trophy.
“Finding
a guy isn’t a problem. Keeping a guy is a problem, and finding the guy is a
complete catastrophe.”
Fran
nodded in sympathy. “Yep. I’ve been there. But alas, you’ll find the one. You’re
young, adorable, funny, talented, and smart. Hell of a combination.”
I
smiled and looked away. “One day.”
“Anywho,
enough about boys. Let’s talk about work. As I stated in the email, you’ll be
taking your headshots today. You don’t need to come into the office every day,
but feel free to use our facility for anything you need. I sent you the contact
information for the couples you’ll be shooting so that you can schedule their
test shots first, and after that, we’ll let you know who we narrowed it down
to. We only want to select four couples to feature: two young, and two older.
They all have different stories, anyway, so that’ll be fine.”
She
paused for a breath as I nodded, taking mental notes. “And … oh yeah, here are
the names of the writers working on the special. Carlos and Deborah are regular
staff; the other two are freelance, but work with us often. I wrote down their
emails and will send them yours now so they can contact you. Sometimes they
like to go along for the shoots and do their interviews there.”
My
eyes scrolled down the list as I nodded. I stalled when I saw his name. Just
words on a page, but they made my heart flip once, twice, and finally nestle
its way into the pit of my stomach. I was prepared for this.
“You
should meet us for drinks on Wednesday,” Fran said, pulling me out of my
thoughts. I was so not prepared for this.
“So
I only see them on days that I shoot?” I asked, waving the paper slightly.
“Well,
that only happens if they want to interview the people in their element.
Otherwise, we only see each other during meetings, and we don’t have many.
We’ll be having one this Wednesday over drinks, though, and then again to lay
out the final plans.”
I
swallowed loudly and nodded. “Okay.”
“It
would be great for you to come on Wednesday and meet them,” she said again. I
felt like I was on a downward spiral, moving here, knowing this job would mean
I would be insanely close to him, secretly hoping that I was, while reminding
myself of the reasons I’d avoided him in the first place. I took a breath and
braced myself for the inevitable fall.
“Sure.
Drinks sound great.”
Author Info
Claire Contreras graduated with
her BA in Psychology from Florida International
University. She lives in Miami,
Florida with her husband, two little boys, and three
dogs.
Her favorite past times are:
daydreaming, writing, and reading.
She has been described as a
random, sarcastic, crazy girl with no filter.
Life is short, and it’s more
bitter than sweet, so she tries to smile as often as her
face allows. She enjoys stories
with happy endings, because life is full of way too
many unhappy ones.
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook |
Twitter
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