Do You Take This Man (96)
For better or for worse. I’m so blessed to have an editor who makes my work shine, but also crafts my “worse” into something I’m so proud of. Kerry Donovan, you are a delight and a blessing, and I implicitly trust you to make my stories better. Thank you also to the Berkley and Penguin Random House team who brought this book into the world. Thank you, Bridget O’Toole, Dache’ Rogers, Mary Baker, Karen Dziekonski, and Lindsey Tulloch. The beautiful cover was designed by Farjana Yasmin.
For richer or for poorer, but let’s shoot for the first one if we can, yeah? To my indelible agent, Sharon Pelletier: I feel continually blessed to have such an ardent advocate in my corner and I always appreciate your humor, kindness, and candor. Thank you also to Lauren Abramo, Andrew Dugan, and Sara DeNobrega at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret and Kristina Moore at UTA.
In sickness and in health is fitting since I wrote this book in 2020 and 2021, but I am eternally grateful for the friends who kept me feeling supported, heard, motivated, and laughing. Thank you to my sister, Bethany; Allison Ashley; Katie Golding; Charish Reid; Taj McCoy; Cass Newbould; Alicia Sparrow; Priscilla Oliveras; Jen DeLuca; Libby Hubscher; Regina Black; Rachel Mans McKenny; the 2020 BIPOC Debut family; Kenyatta; Jasmine; Jalen; Aiden; Jacki and the MSA team; Emily; Tera; Haley; Matt; Jen; Brian; The Cardinal Women*; Romance Fight Club members J, Allie, Beth, and Tova; and everyone else who has cheered me on and listened to me drone on about bookish things.
To honor and obey. Even though neither of you obey even basic commands anymore, thank you to Penny and Greta for unconditional puppy love and sleeping on my feet when you weren’t being menaces while this book came to life.
To love and to cherish. Finally, thank you to readers who have welcomed my characters into your heads and hearts. It means everything, truly.
Do I know how lucky I am to be surrounded by the phenomenal people above and that my books wouldn’t happen without them?
I do.
Continue reading for a preview of Denise Williams’s next new romance!
Chapter 1
Pearl
Today
AS I FLIPPED over my phone, the thin gold bracelet on my wrist caught the light, the chain cutting through the four small stars tattooed on my wrist.
Shea: Send a selfie. Show me the dress.
Pearl: I’m not taking a selfie.
Shea: You’re too serious. I know you look bangable.
Pearl: Bangable isn’t my objective. I’m working.
Shea: Your objective lacks creativity. This is why I’m the fun sister.
My sister was a pain, but a pain with good taste who had found an amazing dress for me. The champagne-colored satin was cool under my palm, and I brushed my fingers against it before slipping my phone into my clutch. The wash of the cool breeze from the air-conditioning swept over the exposed skin at my back, and I straightened at the prickling sensation. The room swirled with people, and before I stepped back into the hall, I surveyed the countless donors and supporters in formal wear.
On the far side of the room, Katrina Dawson laughed with a trio of people in their seventies. The two of us had started a few weeks earlier in our new roles with the company. It was strange being home, both strange and good. After five years in California, the right job had brought me back to Chicago, but I didn’t have a good sense of anyone on my team yet, so every day felt like treading water with shields up, especially with Katrina.
I stepped inside and recited my game plan for the evening, particularly who I was supposed to connect with based on our pre-gala preparations. OurCode, like other programs designed to encourage girls and nonbinary kids to take an interest in coding and careers in tech, had support across the industry and a solid reputation. The assembled crowd had paid a thousand dollars a head to attend and would donate more to support the program’s growth. Despite some recent setbacks to our inclusion-related programming, we were ready to hit the ground running. Katrina and I had curated a list of potential new relationships we could cultivate, and I made a mental note of names on the list who had arrived. The gala was going to be the launching pad for our new plans, and we’d been working late every night with Kendra. It was odd she hadn’t arrived yet.
“Pearl, a minute?” The chairman of the OurCode board touched my elbow. Kevin wore a tux, his entire look put together, but his expression was harried, a deep crease between his brows.
“Sure.”
He waved Katrina over as well and we walked toward a corner of the ballroom.
Katrina’s dress caught the light, the red fabric dipping low between her breasts and flowing to the floor, giving her a glow. “Hey, Kevin. What’s up? I was just talking to the Kellers about increasing their annual donation while you and Pearl chatted.”
Maybe it didn’t exactly bother me—I wanted us both to do well—but I couldn’t deny that I wanted to be the one doing slightly better.
Kevin cut through any pleasantries. “Kendra isn’t coming.”
To my right, Katrina stilled, her shock seeming to register along with mine. “What?” and “Why?” came from us at the same time.
“I can’t get into the details for legal reasons, but she has resigned from OurCode, effective immediately.” Kevin’s tone was hushed, and both of us leaned forward to hear him better.