For April: Novella Couplet, Book #1

For April

Book 1

Jillian Jacobs

Published by Green Moose Productions

Copyright 2017 by Jillian Jacobs

For sales information please contact: http://www.jillianjacobs.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy’s, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author. This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination.

ISBN: 978-1-942313-13-7

For April

Book 1

Ryan Cole has two stiff middle fingers for those who say, You can rise above your past…because, yeah…when has that ever happened?

Until it does…

After aiding an influential Senator, Ryan is thrust into a scenario that lays the foundation for his dreams of becoming a trial lawyer. All he has to do is befriend the Senator’s daughter—a woman with no friends, no social skills, whose past traumas are even worse than his own…and on top of all that, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

As Ryan manipulates his way into April’s life, he discovers he’d do anything to release her from the cage she lives within.

But when he slips and April discovers her father’s plan and Ryan’s part in it, he must face the consequences of his betrayal and a future without the woman he loves.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

About the Author

Connect with Jillian Jacobs

Dedication

To Jeremy

Acknowledgements

To my beta-girls. Also thanks to Linda Carroll-Bradd. Best editor ever. Any mistakes are my own.

Chapter 1

Part 1

Ryan Cole ran a hand across his wrinkled Jiffy Oil shirt. Meeting a United States senator while sporting his day job’s uniform—a gray shirt and plain black work-pants—wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned reuniting with the man, but apparently fate had other plans. Or maybe it was karma. Not that either had been particularly good to him, and he didn’t expect that to change anytime soon.

Walking to this teashop from his apartment already had him sweating. Long sleeves during a humid day in Central Indiana wasn’t a smart move, but between his day job, his night job as a bartender, and online law classes, he had zero time for pain-in-the-ass chores like ironing. Nor did he have time for appointments with politicians. Heaving a sigh, he pulled on the shop’s door handle, took the step up, and blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust after being outside in the sun. He caught a glimpse of blond perfectly-trimmed hair by the front window and headed in that direction.

Good morning, Mr. Cole. Senator Paul David waved him over.

A bright red tie topped his navy blue suit. Typical. Dude even had the little American flag pinned to his lapel. A handsome older man, his age likely upward of fifty-five, the stylish dark frames he wore highlighted his blue eyes.

Sir. Ryan nodded and shook his hand before raking his fingers through the side of his shortly cropped dark blond hair. The top was longer and needed a trim. A fact he’d likely not care about if David weren’t also a partner at one of the top law firms in the state—a law firm he’d give his left nut to work at. Taking online and local university classes, he’d completed his Bachelor’s in political science, and he had scored in the top range on his LSAT. However, further schooling had become an issue due to lack of money, which added a harsh sense of never-gonna-happen to his dreams of becoming an attorney.

Let’s sit. Senator David pointed toward a flowery upholstered chair.

The area at the front of the teashop was like some kind of tea-drinking-cocoon. His oil-stained attire in no way matched the colorful couch David settled onto. Flowers and tea—he’d never felt more out of place.

Can I get you something to drink?

Ryan merely raised a brow then shook his head. Unless the beverage was black wake-up-the-dead coffee he had no interest.

No? Fine, then I’ll get right to the purpose of this meeting. David leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, dangling his to-go cup between his legs. First of all, I want to thank you for what you did for me.

Sir, I—

No, no. The senator lifted his hand, palm out. I made a grave mistake, and you helped me rather than using my misfortune to make a profit. I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. In my position, I don’t trust anyone, but…something about you makes me believe I can put a little faith in you.

Around a month ago, Ryan left a friend’s apartment late one night and noticed a Cadillac resting sideways in a ditch with smoke pouring from the engine. The senator was drunk and injured, but cognizant enough to know that the police and the media couldn’t discover his incident. Aware of the need for discretion, Ryan called a friend who owned a tow-truck company and took the senator to a nurse he’d dated.

Honestly, he’d love some gratitude in the form of this influential man offering him a job...but his cynical nature stood up and said, Hold on there, cowboy. Why would you have faith in me, Senator David? Ryan shook his head. You don’t even know me.

David shrugged. I’ve found it’s what people do when no one is watching that counts. He glanced around the shop.

What he was looking for Ryan couldn’t say, as the only other inhabitants were the guy behind the counter and a big guy, maybe-early twenties, dressed in a finely-cut gray suit that didn’t match his cauliflower-ears or scarred nose.

While pretty fit himself at six-two and one-ninety, Ryan would rather not wrestle with Mr. I-can-lift-an-elephant-with-my-pinky, leaning against the counter.

The Senator twisted in his seat and faced the man. Dewey, leave us a moment.

Dewey glanced at Ryan then nodded and stepped outside.

The senator rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. I’ll begin. He cleared his throat and took a drink from his to-go cup before meeting Ryan’s gaze. You may or may not be aware, but I have a daughter. I’ve struggled over the best way to proceed with her, but I-I…you see, ever since I met you, I’ve had this crazy idea stirring in my mind. So bear with me, because I believe what I want will become clear after you hear April’s story.

April is your daughter?

Yes. I’ve raised her as well as I can since her mother…passed. He cleared his throat again. Are you sure you don’t need anything?

No. Not unless they had a nice bottle of whisky hidden behind all those tea canisters. And was it hot in here? It seemed hot in here. He tugged on his collar. Why should he care about some spoiled politicians daughter? Yet, curiosity kept him in his seat. Go on.

My wife, Anna, was born and bred to be a senator’s wife. Her family came from the East Coast. Old money and old connections. We met while I attended Harvard. Anna was a few years older, but that didn’t matter. We aligned perfectly. She had this poise and grace you don’t see much nowadays. A true lady. Strong-willed and intelligent. The perfect wife for a man with my political aspirations. As expected of such women, she volunteered with various national charities and traveled to third-world countries.

Ryan nodded, having a suspicion this story did not end well, especially when the man used past tense words like had.

Once she could walk, April frequently accompanied Anna. Since we’d campaigned as a family, my wife was well known. Because of her popularity, when she went to Sierra Leone for the second time, she and April were abducted and held for ransom.

I’m sorry. Ryan winced, wishing he actually had a drink now. Plus, saying sorry never changed anything. Sorry, you have to live with your Mom’s abusive boyfriends, Ryan. Sorry, there’s nothing to eat. Sorry, you have to live in a roach-infested apartment. Empty words, but sorry was all he could think to say. While I commend your wife for her efforts, I don’t know that I’d ever travel to such places like Africa. Hell, I’ve barely been out of Indiana, so if I had a chance to escape, it’d be all pleasure. All pleasure? What the hell am I talking about? The guy is wrenching open his heart, and I’m talking about taking pleasure trips. God, he was such an idiot.

I understand and agree. I should have been more aware of the dangers surrounding Anna’s travel choices. David sighed and leaned back in his seat. I don’t know how familiar you are with militant groups, but they have no moral compass. And…my wife and April were treated as prisoners in every sense of the word…exposed to many horrors. He closed his eyes for a moment then took a deep breath. When my wife finally returned home, she was a completely different person, especially due to some…scarring on her face. April has never spoken of her time there. She was just a little girl…seven years old.

The senator stared out the window, which was covered with the shop’s logo—a steaming tea cup. A warm, welcoming image so at odds with cold, dark story being relayed inside.

Those were very difficult times for our family. Both April and Anna became sullen and withdrawn. He stood and paced in the small space between the couch and the coffee table—or in this instance, tea table.

Ryan certainly understood dark times and losing a mother. He rubbed his temples. Sweet baby Jesus, what am I doing here? Opening up about the past wasn’t something he’d ever do, so what did this guy want? Would it be rude to pull out his phone and check the time, because Jesus, he needed to get to work.

You might find this a bit ironic, Mr. Cole.

Ryan arched a brow, sure this next admission would be a doozy.

Approximately a year after Anna returned, she took April for a car ride. The senator sucked in a breath. She deliberately crashed the vehicle into a tree and didn’t survive. April, however, did. He tucked both hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. Anna’s suicide mission never made it to the press. Which will continue to be the case.

Damn. This story just kept getting worse, and by the way the Senator was staring at him, he was expected to respond. Right. Of course I won’t say anything. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m still not seeing what this has to do with me. Ryan fingered his phone, considering texting his boss for real. This conversation was obviously going to last a bit longer.

I don’t know what to do about April. David threw up both hands. "After the accident, she was…well, basically, we had to institutionalize her for a few years. But then she requested to come