The Prenup by Lauren Layne
English | 2019 | Romance | ePUB | 1.1 Mb
The Prenup : Ten years ago, I married my brother’s best friend. I haven’t seen him since. Until now …
Charlotte Spencer grew up on the blue-blooded Upper East Side of Manhattan but she never wanted the sit-still-look-pretty future her parents dictated for her. Enter Colin Walsh, her brother’s quiet, brooding best friend, and with him a chance to pursue her dreams. One courthouse wedding later, Charlotte’s inheritance is hers to start a business in San Francisco and Irish-born Colin has a Green Card.
Ten years later, they’re happily married. On different coasts. With separate lives. In fact, she hasn’t even seen Colin in a decade, and that’s just fine by her.
But fate throws her a curveball when her husband calls her back to New York, and she realize the boy she’s married is long gone. In his place is a shockingly appealing man … who wants a divorce. The problem? The terms of their prenup arrangement state that before either can file for separation, they have to live under the same roof for three months.
Now, in order to get divorced, they have to pretend to be married. For real …
“The taxi driver pulls his phone away from his face and glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Where to again?”
The words Sixty-third and Lex nearly roll off my tongue, and I bite them back. Apparently, ten years on the West Coast can’t undo twenty-one years as an Upper East Side princess. But the last place I want to be tonight is my parents’ house.
“Seventy-sixth and Madison. The Carlyle Hotel.”
He goes back to his conversation without acknowledging my response, but he apparently heard me, because twenty minutes later, the taxi pulls up to the correct address.
I pay the fare, and a second later, the car door opens. I smile in gratitude at the hotel doorman who’s already unloaded my suitcase from the trunk and is waiting with an oversized umbrella.
“Welcome to The Carlyle, ma’am.”
Ma’am. Ouch. I make a mental note to stop putting off replacing my eye cream.
And while we’re on the topic of appearances, I’ve forgotten how vicious the summer humidity can be on the East Coast. I feel my sleek blowout transforming into a poufy cloud with each passing moment. Thankfully, the hotel lobby is cool and dry, and I want nothing more than to check in to my room and make a hot date with a bottle of wine and a shower.”