The Interview_New York & Los Angeles Read online

  The Interview:

  New York

  &

  Los Angeles

  New York Times, USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author

  Sandi Lynn

  The Interview: New York & Los Angeles

  Copyright © 2018 Sandi Lynn Romance, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Photos & Design by Sara Eirew Photography

  Cover Models: Lucas Bloms & Gus Smyrnios

  Editing by BZ Hercules

  Table of Contents

  Mission Statement

  Books by Sandi Lynn

  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

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  About the Author

  Mission Statement

  Sandi Lynn Romance

  Providing readers with romance novels that will whisk them away

  to another world and from the daily grind of life – one book at a time.

  Books by Sandi Lynn

  If you haven’t already done so, please check out my other books. Escape from reality and into the world of romance. I’ll take you on a journey of love, pain, heartache and happily ever afters.

  Millionaires:

  The Forever Series (Forever Black, Forever You, Forever Us, Being Julia, Collin, A Forever Christmas, A Forever Family)

  Love, Lust & A Millionaire (Wyatt Brothers, Book 1)

  Love, Lust & Liam (Wyatt Brothers, Book 2)

  Lie Next To Me (A Millionaire’s Love, Book 1)

  When I Lie with You (A Millionaire’s Love, Book 2)

  Then You Happened (Happened Series, Book 1)

  Then We Happened (Happened Series, Book 2)

  His Proposed Deal

  A Love Called Simon

  The Seduction of Alex Parker

  Something About Lorelei

  One Night In London

  The Exception

  Corporate A$$

  A Beautiful Sight

  The Negotiation

  Defense

  Playing The Millionaire

  #Delete

  Carter Grayson (Redemption Series, Book One)

  Behind His Lies

  Chase Calloway (Redemption Series, Book Two)

  Second Chance Love:

  Remembering You

  She Writes Love

  Love In Between (Love Series, Book 1)

  The Upside of Love (Love Series, Book 2)

  Sports:

  Lightning

  Prologue

  Anti-relationship. That was me. The thought of giving my love and heart to someone for the rest of my life scared me. It wasn’t logical. Nothing ever lasts, and in the end, you’ve given up the person you were to change yourself to who you thought you should be, only to get your heart shattered. You’re probably sitting there thinking, “What the hell happened to her to make her feel that way?” So, let me enlighten you.

  My parents had been married for thirty years. My father, Jefferson Holloway, was the CEO and owner of Holloway Capital, one of the largest investment firms in Boston. My mother, Adalynn Holloway, was a successful charity event organizer who loved the pretty things in life, including the pool boy who took care of the pool at our six-thousand-square-foot estate; a home in which I grew up and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of.

  My family was the most dysfunctional family in the world. Well, maybe not in the world, but at least in Boston. Not only was my mother banging the pool boy and her tennis coach, my father was banging anyone who had a vagina. Mid-life crises set in, and as much as they wanted my siblings and me to believe they were happy, they weren’t fooling us, or at least me. Divorce wasn’t an option. There was too much money and properties involved. Plus, how would it look in their social circle if the Holloway’s divorced? Outside the home, they were the perfect couple to everyone. People envied them. My parents could have won Academy Awards for their stellar performances. Did I mention that my mother liked to drink? Tequila was her beverage of choice these days. The simplicity of wine just wasn’t cutting it for her.

  My brother, Alfie, age twenty-five, who was every girl’s orgasm with his clean-cut sandy blond hair, green eyes, light stubble around his jawline, and his six-foot-one, muscular stature, lived up to my father’s expectations and followed in his footsteps, working side by side with him at Holloway Capital. Me? I worked as a journalist for the Seattle Times writing for an advice column called “Everything Laurel,” which ranged from anything relationships to etiquette and self-help.

  George, my best friend, thought I’d be the perfect fit, so he talked to his boss, Eric. Plus, he owed me since I saved his ass from a deranged sorority girl who was out to kill him after he broke up with her back in college. I wasn’t kidding about the killing part. She was a broken-hearted, obsessed girl who thought she was madly in love with him. One day, she went and got herself a 9mm and pointed it directly at him. If I hadn’t shown up to his apartment that night he was being held at gunpoint, he’d be dead because she was crazy enough to pull the trigger. Fortunately, I was studying psychology as my minor and was able to talk her out of it and get her the help she needed. I always wondered what happened to her once she left Boston University. So yeah, George owed me big time for saving his life and things couldn’t have worked out more perfect taking a job over three thousand miles away from my dysfunctional family.

  Not only did I have a brother, but I also had a twenty-year-old sister named Bella, who looked exactly like Alfie with her blonde hair and green eyes. I was the odd girl out with brown hair and blue eyes. Where did I get that from, you ask? My birth parents. See, Jefferson and Adalynn were my adoptive parents. They adopted me when I was three weeks old because my mother was told she could never have children after three years of IVF treatments. Then two years later, she became pregnant with Alfie. It was a miracle, and even more a miracle, five years after Alfie, when Bella joined our family. Since my mother wasn’t taking any more chances on these “surprise” pregnancies, my father decided to get a vasectomy. He insisted after my mother had told him she was getting her tubes tied. Clever on his part, because then he wouldn’t have
to worry about getting any of the women he had affairs with pregnant.

  Bella was a student at Juilliard. She had been accepted right after she graduated high school at the age of seventeen. Her dream after Juilliard was to join one of the top dance companies in the world. We weren’t as close as two sisters should be, probably because of our seven-year age difference or the fact that when she started dancing at the age of three, life revolved around her.

  Now that you have the background story on my family, back to my anti-relationship issue. First, there are some things you need to know about me. My name is Laurel Holloway, I’m twenty-seven years old, I’ve been someone’s girlfriend once in my life and I love sex. Sex with guys where there’s no chance of getting emotionally attached, usually one-night stands. I have plenty of friends and I love to go out and have a good time. It’s hard to imagine that one experience in your life could alter the way you see things forever. After much debate with myself at the age of eighteen about getting into a relationship, I finally gave in and became the girlfriend of David Hampton, an aspiring musician who I met my freshman year at Boston University. He swept me off my feet and made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I fell for him hard and fast. We had dated for almost a year, spending every moment we could together. I shared a room with my childhood best friend, Marissa. We were inseparable since the age of seven and knew each other’s deepest secrets. The one secret I didn’t know about her was that she was sleeping with my boyfriend and had been for over two months of our relationship. It was just as much David’s fault as it was hers. Would you like to hear the gory details of how I found out? I thought you would.

  I had gone home for the weekend because it was Bella’s birthday and my mother threw her a big birthday bash. I had asked David to come with me and he said with finals coming up, he needed to stay back and study. So, I left on Friday after my classes and decided to go back early Sunday to surprise him. Now, in the meantime, he had been texting me all weekend saying how much he loved me and missed me. He really knew how to set my heart on fire and I truly believed that we would be together forever. Stupid, I know. I decided to stop at my dorm room and change before going over to his frat house and surprising him. When I opened the door, the only thing I saw was him fucking Marissa while she was bent over the bed and him saying over and over again, “I love you.” Shock swept over me as my heart began to pound so hard, I thought my chest was going to explode. I stood there and stared at them while my perfectly happy heart broke in half. The pain that coursed through me was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. Tears filled my eyes as I took in a deep breath, turned, and walked away. David ran after me wearing only his jeans, and when I exited the building doors, he grabbed my arm and told me he was sorry and that it would never happen again. I never did forgive him or Marissa.

  After many hours of walking around, crying, and staring out the window of a café while sipping on a latte I wished so badly was filled with alcohol, I went back to my room, packed up all my things, and told Marissa she could have him. That was the day I met George. He saw me loading up my car and walked over and helped me. He introduced himself, and we spent the rest of the night talking, or should I say, me crying on his shoulder. He had an apartment not too far from my dorm and he told me that I could stay there as long I needed to. I couldn’t go home, because if I did, I’d have to explain to my parents what happened, and I didn’t want to do that, plus I couldn’t miss my classes. That was the day my heart was broken for the very first time, and I lost the love of my life and my best friend. But some good came from it. George and I had become best friends and best friends only. Not best friends with benefits. There were never any romantic feelings between the two of us, just respect and a good solid friendship. That was also the day I closed off my heart again, but this time forever.

  George Locke was one year older than I was and graduated before me. As soon as he left Boston University, he went back home to Seattle where a journalist position was waiting for him. It also helped that his dad’s best friend owned the Seattle Times. We kept in touch almost every day and I flew out there a few times to visit him. After I graduated, I took a part-time job at a local newspaper in Boston, but that only lasted six months before they shut down. I ended up doing some freelance work for small magazines for a few months before George called me and offered me a job in Seattle. I was on that like a bee on honey. I needed to get out of Boston and away from the constant badgering of my mother asking me what I was going to do with my life and why I didn’t have a boyfriend, while she sat there and kicked back her tequila at twelve in the afternoon.

  I ended up staying with George and Kairi, his then girlfriend, for a couple of weeks until I found an apartment. I got settled, started my new job, and have been as happy as a clam for the past four years, living life on my own and exactly how I wanted.

  Chapter One

  Los Angeles Bound

  “Laurel, I need to see you in my office,” my boss Eric spoke.

  Getting up from my chair, I walked in and took a seat across from his desk.

  “What’s up, Eric?” I asked.

  “Congratulations. You’re getting a promotion.”

  “Wow. Really?” A wide grin graced my face.

  “Yes. You know how we’ve started the ball on our new magazine, Fusion Daily?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We want you to write articles for it and we’ve decided that we’re going to switch Everything Laurel to the magazine from the paper. We believe that it will help to gain traffic and sales.”

  “Okay. Do you have any specific topics for the articles?”

  “Actually, I do. We thought it would be a good idea to interview some well-known bachelors.”

  “Huh?” I arched my brow.

  “Not just any bachelors.” He pointed at me. “Bachelors that are self-made millionaires under the age of thirty-five and very successful in what they do. I want you to find out what makes them tick and why they haven’t settled down. I think it would make for an interesting read, especially for the ladies.”

  “And what makes you think they’d tell me?”

  “Come on, Laurel, you’re a journalist. It’s your job to get that information out of them. Plus, you’re a beautiful woman. Throw on a sexy dress and some high heels, and draw them in.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do you have certain bachelors in mind?”

  He pushed a piece of paper to the edge of his desk.

  “We took a poll.”

  Taking hold of it, I studied each name and occupation. The list consisted of two men: Craig Pines, head chef and owner of Rosie’s in Los Angeles, and Wyatt Coleman, owner and CEO of Coleman Enterprises in New York.

  “They’re both successful, young, and single.” Eric smiled.

  “And they’re very rich men.” I smirked.

  “Exactly! And that’s why women want to know why they’re still single. Start with Craig Pines in California and then head to New York. You have one week. Get to know them, interview them, find out their secrets, and write your stories.”

  “Okay, then.” I sat there nodding my head. “Do you think one week will be enough time for both?”

  “Get in and get out.”

  “When do you want me to leave?”

  “As soon as possible. Take a couple days to get packed and be on your way. In the meantime, don’t neglect Everything Laurel.”

  “What about flight arrangements and hotels?” I asked.

  “You can do all that yourself. Use the company account. I’ll have Shari give you the company American Express card to use for food and incidental expenses. Just don’t go overboard.”

  I arched my brow. “You do realize how expensive California and New York are, right?”

  He sighed. “Yes, I know. Just spend wisely. Maybe you only need two meals a day. On second thought, get the billionaires to buy you dinner. They can afford it.”

  Rolling my eyes, I got up from my seat. “I’ll let you know when I�
��m leaving,” I spoke as I walked out the door.

  Looking at my watch, I saw it was lunchtime and I decided to leave the office and go home to start making arrangements for my trips. Walking to my car, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed George, who was in Florida working on a story.

  “Hello, sunshine.”

  “Guess who’s going out of town?” I smiled as I walked to my car.

  “Would that be you?”

  “Yes. Eric is sending me to California and New York.”

  “Lucky bitch! Why?”

  “To interview two young, single, and successful millionaires.” I climbed into my car and shut the door.

  “Wow. Is that for the magazine?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “In a couple days. When are you getting back?”

  “My flight gets in Thursday afternoon at two o’clock.”

  “Maybe I can coordinate with your schedule and we can meet up at the airport before I board. Maybe have lunch or something.”

  “That would be great. Hey, I have to go. I’m being summoned.”

  “Have fun and stay safe. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  When I arrived home, I poured myself a glass of wine, opened my laptop, and looked up flights to Los Angeles. Picking up the phone, I dialed Rosie’s.

  “Good afternoon. Thank you for calling Rosie’s. How can I help you?”

  “Hello, I would like to speak with Craig Pines, please.”

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “This is Laurel Holloway with the Seattle Times. I would like to set up an interview with Mr. Pines.”

  “Hold one moment, please.”

  As I listened to the boring elevator music on the other end, I lightly tapped my fingernails against my desk.

  “I’m sorry, but Mr. Pines is not interested in doing an interview. Thank you for calling.” Click.