One Way or Another_A Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance Read online

  ONE⁕WAY⁕OR⁕ANOTHER

  ~~~~

  ♦ THE ♦SISTERS ♦QUARTET ♦

  MARY J. WILLIAMS

  © 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Mary J. Williams.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the Copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  First E-book Printing, 2018

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ~~~~

  Writing isn't easy. But I love every second. A blank screen isn't the enemy. It is the opportunity to create new friends and take them on amazing adventures and life-changing journeys. I feel blessed to spend my days weaving tales that are unique—because I made them.

  Billionaires. Songwriters. Artists. Actors. Directors. Stuntmen. Football players. They fill the pages and become dear friends I hope you will want to revisit again and again.

  Thank you for jumping into my books and coming along for the journey.

  HOW TO GET IN TOUCH

  ~~~~

  Please visit me at these sites, sign up for my newsletter or leave a message.

  http://www.maryjwilliams.net/

  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-j-williams

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  https://www.pinterest.com/maryj0675/

  https://www.instagram.com/2015romance/

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5648619.Mary_J_Williams

  MORE BOOKS BY MARY J. WILLIAMS

  ~~~~

  Harper Falls Series

  If I Loved You

  If Tomorrow Never Comes

  If You Only Knew

  If I Had You (Christmas in Harper Falls)

  Hollywood Legends Series

  Dreaming With a Broken Heart

  Dreaming With My Eyes Wide Open

  Dreaming Again

  Dreaming of a White Christmas

  (Caleb and Callie's story)

  One Pass Away Series

  After the Rain

  After All These Years

  After the Fire

  Hart of Rock and Roll

  Flowers on the Wall

  Flowers and Cages

  Flowers are Red

  Flowers for Zoe

  Flowers in Winter

  WITH ONE MORE LOOK AT YOU

  One Strike Away

  For a Little While

  For Another Day

  For All We Know

  For the First Time

  COMING LATER IN 2018

  The Sisters Quartet

  Two of a Kind

  Three Wishes

  Four Simple Words

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ~~~~

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  HOW TO GET IN TOUCH

  MORE BOOKS BY MARY J. WILLIAMS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EPILOGUE

  COMING IN APRIL

  WITH ONE MORE LOOK AT YOU

  PROLOGUE

  ~~~~

  CALDER BENEDICT LOVED late afternoon best.

  The time of day when she and her sisters stopped whatever they were doing—wherever they were—to gather in their special room.

  Their mother never disturbed them. Sometimes loving, but mostly flighty and self-centered, Billie Benedict was happy to leave her girls to their own devices. One less thing for her to think about. One less worry. Though Billie never dwelt on any problem. She'd long ago graduated—with honors—from the Scarlett O'Hara Tomorrow is Another Day School of Life Lessons.

  Except in Billie's case, tomorrow never came. Troubles, like men, were easily forgotten. Disposable. Replaceable.

  Calder shook off the thought. She closed her eyes, flicked her long, dark hair over her shoulder, and let the room's magic chase away the sad.

  The ever-changing parade of servants knew the little girls' inner sanctum was off limits. Not even to clean. On the rare occasions Calder could cajole or bully her sisters to help keep the room tidy, she would. However, for the most part, she was on her own.

  Andi was too distracted, her head filled with dreams of the future. Big dreams. Important dreams. Dreams she was determined to fulfill.

  Bryce was always happy to help when Calder asked. Her twin started out with the best of intentions. However, after a few unenthusiastic swipes of her dust cloth, she would curl up on the faded, overstuffed sofa they'd rescued from the storage room across the hall, her nose buried in a book.

  Then there was Destry. She wasn't lazy. Or forgetful. Unlike her sisters, her head wasn't crammed with dreams or schemes or books. The youngest Benedict was simply too full of perpetual energy to stay put in one place for long.

  Ants in her pants pronounced their great-aunt Annis with an annoyed shake of her head. The old woman never had a good word to say about anybody. Especially the four Benedict girls.

  Calder smiled as she straightened the plate of little cakes. The four Benedict girls didn't need Great-Aunt Annis' approval. Or anyone else's. They had each other. And always would.

  "Chocolate? Yum! Gimme, gimme."

  Destry, her eyes wide with greed, rushed forward. Andi swore that after 'no,' 'gimme' was their little sister's first word. Calder had no doubt.

  At nine, Calder was a year older, reed thin, and a good three inches taller. With ease, she held the plate of cakes out of Destry's determined grasp.

  "You know you have to wait until Andi and Bryce get here."

  Destry wasn't a typical eight-year-old girl. She wasn't a typical anything. When she didn't get her own way, she didn't stamp her foot. Or pout. Or cry. She never yelled or threatened. Instead, she narrowed her lids over her burnished gold eyes, while her brain worked at the speed of light to figure out the best way to get exactly what she wanted. Usually, she succeeded.

  "Not today." Calder wasn't as intractable as her sister. However, when the moment called for stubborn, she could hold her own. "You're welcome to a cup of tea."

  Calder hid her smile when Destry grimaced. She and Bryce were the tea drinkers. Andi would settle for the brewed beverage, but she preferred the days when their housekeeper, Mrs. Finch, provided a pitcher of freshly squeezed, slightly tart, lemonade.

  And Destry? She wanted the sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. The sweeter, the better.

  Calder loved when she could make her little sister happy.

  "I snuck a Coke from the fridge when Mrs. Finch wasn't looking."

  With a whoop of happiness, Destry threw herself into Calder's arms.

  "I
love you."

  "Because of a can of soda?"

  "Because you're Calder."

  Destry's hug tightened. A moment of emotion from a little girl who more often than not, hid her feelings well.

  "Where are Andi and Bryce?" Destry was already across the room, a glass in one hand, the newly opened can in the other. "I'm starving."

  Before Calder could speculate over their missing sisters' whereabouts, the door opened.

  "I'm pooped." With a heavy sigh, Bryce collapsed onto the old sofa.

  "You look like a cyclone hit you," Calder observed.

  Though born only minutes apart, she and Bryce were opposites in many ways. From their physical features to their personalities. However, despite their differences—or perhaps because of them—they were as close as any twins could be.

  Bryce's red hair stuck out in all kinds of interesting directions, the two long, neat braids she'd worn when she left for school, things of the past. One knee was scraped. Her school uniform—and face—smudged with dirt. Whatever happened didn't prey on her mind. She relaxed as if she didn't have a care in the world. Which was probably true.

  "Jerry Welker stole Millie Pearson's hair ribbon. I had to chase the little snot around the school three times before I finally caught him."

  "And if I hadn't pulled you off, you'd have left him with more than a bruised ego." Andi, the oldest by a whole year and natural leader of their little, exclusive sisters' club, closed the door behind her. "Here. You dropped your latest gore-fest."

  Bryce snatched the book from Andi's hand. She ran her hand over the cover like she would an indulged pet.

  "Not gory. Thrilling. The blood is incidental."

  Andi shook her head. But her green eyes sparkled, and her smile was indulgent. Almost eleven, she already possessed the kind of glossy looks other girls envied. But she would have gladly traded her high cheekbones and silky blond hair for a few more IQ points. In her book, brains trumped beauty every time.

  A wave of satisfaction rushed over Calder, something she always felt whenever their circle was complete. No matter the circumstances, everything was better when the Benedict girls were together.

  "Can we eat now?"

  "Dig in."

  As they filled their plates, they chatted away about nothing in particular. Which was often the way. Just the four of them. Sisters. Able to enjoy each other's company. However, when serious matters arose—which they tended to do now and then—they didn't hesitate to share. Sometimes they argued. Often, they laughed. A few tears might fall.

  If one sister had a grievance with another, the solutions were swift and, for the most part, satisfactory to all concerned.

  Their problems with the world at large weren't as simple. Outside their room, Calder and her sisters led complicated lives. There were no easy fixes. However, talking always helped. Four sets of shoulders to carry the burden instead of one.

  "One more month until summer break." Bryce looked from sister to sister, her gray eyes sad.

  The calendar they ritualistically replaced each January hung on the far wall. Bright and cheery, yellow daisies adorned the month of May. Calder had looked ahead to June. Purple pansies. Such a happy flower. Too bad their moods didn't match.

  "We'll survive." Andi placed a supportive hand on Bryce's arm. "We always do."

  "What if we refused to go?"

  Three sets of eyes turned toward Destry. More than any of them, she dreaded summer.

  "You know we don't have a choice." Calder wished they did. But the law was the law. "Besides, I thought you were kind of looking forward to Europe."

  "Texas." Destry grimaced as if the word left a foul taste on her tongue. "Business, as usual, is more important than a vacation."

  "I'm sorry." Calder understood disappointment. They all did. But Destry always seemed to get the biggest slice.

  "Doesn't matter." Destry shrugged. "Wherever we go, he always hires a big-jugged babysitter who never wants to do anything but sit around the pool and work on her tan."

  Andi took a seat in an overstuffed chair. Big enough for two, she patted the cushion. Without hesitation, Destry joined her, burrowing into her older sister's comforting embrace.

  "One good thing. If our family fortune ever disappears, we can sell our story to a tabloid for a truckload of money."

  The sisters sighed as one. They weren't any different from other children of divorce. Except in one spectacular way. One mother. Three pregnancies. Four different fathers.

  Automatically, Calder and Bryce linked hands as they always did in times of turmoil. They'd shared a womb. But not a father. A rare phenomenon—though not unheard of—their mother was married at the time. Billie's husband didn't question whether the babies were his. Why would he? Until Bryce showed up with a shock of bright red hair. A trait they couldn't attribute to either side of the family.

  Already on shaky ground, Calder's father saw his way out. He demanded a DNA test. Imagine everyone's surprise when he turned out to be a father. But only to Calder. Bryce, according to their mother, was the product of a one-night stand with an old high school sweetheart.

  Bryce's biological father stepped forward and took responsibility. Though he was happy to claim her as his own, like the rest of their mother's baby daddies, he didn't have a lot to do with his daughter for most of the year.

  Until summer. Two and a half months of awkward bonding time. By the end, the men were more than ready to resume their roles as absentee fathers. And the girls were happy to let them.

  "We'll survive." Andi repeated her earlier words with an added amount of conviction none of them felt.

  Of course, they'd survive, Calder thought. They had each other to come home to. Billie Benedict wasn't the best mother in the world. She loved her daughters to the best of her absentminded ability. However, she'd accomplished two things for which her daughters would always be grateful. She gave them each other. And she'd insisted they carry her family name.

  "A toast." Calder stood. She waited as Andi, Bryce, and Destry joined her. Head held high, her gaze moved around the circle. "To the Benedict sisters."

  Hands raised, four voices became one.

  "To the Benedict sisters."

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~~~~

  "YOU SMELL LIKE a summer garden. All sweet and sultry and made for love."

  Calder rolled her eyes. For weeks, Milo Prendergast had tried everything he could think of to get her into bed. Groan-inducing lines he probably culled from an old movie wasn't the key. She knew by now he wouldn't get what he wanted. But he kept trying. And because she was in a dating rut, she let him.

  "Today is April 9th."

  "So?"

  "The season is spring. Not summer."

  Milo was a smart man. He graduated near the top of his class at Harvard law school. Calder's sarcasm wasn't lost on him. Especially when she used a big dose to practically hit him over the head.

  "I'm aware of the season. You were supposed to take my words metaphorically, not literally." Milo's arm tightened around her waist. "In spite of what you might have heard, romance isn't dead, Calder."

  Right. If Milo had an ounce of romance on his mind, Calder's opinion of him might have thawed—a fraction. If was the operative word. As they danced around their tiny segment of the crowded floor, she wondered if he realized how ridiculous he sounded.

  Through her eyelashes, Calder glanced at Milo's handsome profile. Years of careful breeding had gone into his genetic makeup. The result? A classically sculpted profile that screamed upper class. Unfortunately, his ancestors had been so focused on how they looked, something was lost from generation to generation.

  Milo and the entire Prendergast family lacked a very important trait. Anything that resembled a sense of humor.

  "Haven't I proved how much I want you?"

  Calder shivered with revulsion when Milo's wet breath washed over her ear. Naturally, he chose to interpret her reaction as pa
ssion.

  "Why don't we get out of here? Get a hotel room and enjoy the rest of the evening in private. Or we could go back to my place."

  Like Calder, Milo still lived in the Upper East Side mansion where he grew up. She stayed to be near her sisters. His reasons were more financial than familial. Either way, the idea of sex with his mother just down the hall wasn't the most effective aphrodisiac.

  What Milo didn't know but was about to discover, he could have offered Calder the top of a cleared-out Empire State Building, and she still would have turned him down.

  Most of the men she knew—Milo included—believed sex and romance equaled the same thing. A few candlelit dinners. An off-hand compliment or two. And boom. He expected her to fall at his feet.

  Calder was tired of the game. She wanted more. What, she wasn't sure. But she knew she wouldn't find the answer getting sweaty with Milo Prendergast

  "No."

  "No to the hotel room? Or my place? I suppose I can borrow Bridge Manfred's apartment for the night. He's out of town a lot." As Milo lowered his voice, he waggled his brows. "Drugs."

  Her interest piqued, Calder briefly delayed her need to dump Milo for good.

  "Drugs? As in, he takes them? Or he deals them?"

  "Both." Milo shot her a toothy smile. "How do you think a man with his lack of education and connections can afford the penthouse in that fancy new mid-town apartment complex?"

  Honestly, Calder never thought about Bridge Manfred. Or what he lacked. On the few occasions they'd met, he gave her the willies. An edge of danger was one thing. Handsome in a lanky, stringy haired sort of way, unsavoriness practically oozed from the man's pores.

  "He's your friend?" Calder couldn't form a picture of Milo and Bridge hanging out.

  "Hardly," Milo scoffed. "In exchange for a few goodies, Bridge gets invited to parties. We call him our recreational advisor."