Fortunate Sum Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Bold Strokes Books Title Available via Amazon

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Catherine Carter earned her spot as one of New York’s top financial advisors by following the rules and reaching her every goal. The same applies to Catherine’s personal life. Her next self-imposed deadline is looming, and all that’s left to do is to meet the perfect man. At her friend’s urging, skeptical Catherine meets with a psychic who tells her to look for the color blue, and that’s when life spirals from her control. Prospective client, quirky Imogene Harris, is reluctant to hire anyone to help with her inheritance, but when she sees what’s being offered, she has a change of heart. Catherine denies her attraction to Imogene. Imogene is falling for the woman behind the numbers. Not even a rocky start, secret past, or misinterpreted predictions can stop the women from being drawn to one another. Together they learn that perhaps blue isn’t the color of sadness after all…

  Fortunate Sum

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Fortunate Sum

  © 2016 By M. Ullrich. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-531-2

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: March 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Jerry L. Wheeler

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Jeanine Henning

  Acknowledgments

  I have this black binder—it’s old, beat up, and bursting with the most random bits of dialogue and scenes. I’ve had this binder for over ten years now; it even came to Philadelphia with me when I went to see my first Madonna concert. Since then I’ve expanded into several spiral notebooks of outlines and character summaries, but that first binder was special because it represented my daydreams of maybe writing a book one day. I wrote that book, finally, and not one bit from that binder made it into Fortunate Sum. I think that’s for the best, really.

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank the wonderful team at Bold Strokes Books. I was welcomed warmly, and everyone has been nothing less than fantastic to this rookie. Radclyffe has built such a great company with a solid foundation of incredible people. I was an avid reader before, and now I’m honored to be part of this team.

  My editor is really something special. Jerry Wheeler, your patience and willingness to share your knowledge made this green writer feel more comfortable and confident throughout the process. Your suggestions were invaluable, and this finished product is so much better because of you. Thank you, sir.

  When I finally revealed my secret life as a writer to my friends and family, I’ve felt nothing but support from them. Thank you all for that. Sharing my excitement with everyone has been one of the best experiences thus far.

  Heather, I’m incapable of putting together the right words to acknowledge what you mean to me and your role in making this happen. Simply put—it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for you. You’ve supported me since day one and you’ve been by my side every step along the way (and enjoying it). You’re my lovely wife, my partner, and my PRIT. Thank you for your love, encouragement, and for believing in me. You’re not just arm candy, that’s for sure.

  Finally, and far from least, if you are holding this book in your hands right now—thank you. From the bottom of this very nervous debut author’s heart, thank YOU.

  To Heather,

  For believing when I was skeptical.

  Chapter One

  “I’m not quite sure you understand the position this is putting me in. What you’re asking me to do is something my family’s company has never done since the day our doors opened in 1952.” What I’m telling you to do, Catherine Carter thought as the deep voice continued to grouse into her ear.

  She sat at her large desk, phone cradled against her ear as she typed information into her latest spreadsheet. Her back was to the floor-to-ceiling windows taking up two walls of her executive corner office. She was unaware of the world outside, all her concentration on the figures before her. Glancing quickly at the small screen on her office phone, she realized the conversation had been dragging on for almost fifteen minutes and she had yet to say a word beyond a monosyllabic greeting.

  “Mr. Santiago?” Catherine tried to speak up, but the older man on the other end of the phone barely paused to acknowledge her firm voice.

  “I read over the paperwork you sent to the office, and I have to admit, Ms. Carter, I don’t really understand what it is you are expecting of my company.” Mr. Santiago’s slight accent added melody to his words.

  “Mr. Santiago, if you just give me—”

  “You expect me to put a stop to bonuses and cut back on management’s vacation time. How am I supposed to explain this to my employees?” His small pause gave Catherine the opening she needed.

  “Tell them they either take these cuts, make these small sacrifices, or they won’t have a job by this time next year.” She sighed as her patience waned. “Mr. Santiago, I don’t think I can stress the importance of openness and honesty with your workers enough. Your business is in big trouble, and if you don’t make these cutbacks, you’ll lose everything you’ve worked so hard for. I know things were different in 1952, but my focus is on getting your family’s company to see 2052.” Catherine paused and wondered why some businessmen had such a hard time understanding the sink-or-swim world of business management. She pulled at the collar of her black turtleneck sweater, a wise wardrobe decision that frigid morning, but the stress of the afternoon caused her to regret it. As her blood pressure rose, so did her temperature.

  “Is there any other way?” the older gentleman asked. He’d been reluctant to work with Catherine initially, so she wasn’t surprised he was fighting the idea of listening to her now.

  “No,” Catherine answered quickly, trying to think of a way to end the conversation. As if on cue, her assistant entered the office with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a green folder in the other. Catherine watched with wide, relief-filled eyes as Vivian Rinaldi approached quietly.

  “I’ll see you at our meeting on Friday morning. Any furt
her questions and concerns will be addressed then. Good-bye, Mr. Santiago.” She placed the handset on its cradle and rolled the tension from her shoulders. Her head fell forward, and she closed her eyes before she spoke quietly. “Vivian, I am so happy to see you.”

  Most people at Marcati and Stevens saw Catherine Carter as the firm’s driving force, even Anthony Marcati and Phillip Stevens themselves. But it was Walter Adamson whose opinion mattered most. He sat at the helm of the ship and he was more than happy with the direction his company was heading. The firm had become a household name in the world of finance since they had taken Catherine under their wing seven years prior. They may not have been located on Wall Street, but the sprawling office building they occupied deep within the business district made up for that. Catherine was a first for them. She was brilliant, determined, dedicated, and the first woman to make it onto the team. Their youngest financial advisor approached each client with a unique combination of care, dedication, and brutality. That technique spelled success.

  “A few of us will be going to the new Cuban place down the street for lunch if you’d like to join us. I’ve heard they have deliciously strong margaritas.” A sly smile tugged at Vivian’s ruby red lips. Catherine looked up at her assistant and grinned.

  “I’d love to, but I’m swamped.” She waved at the stack of files with her left hand as she smoothed the lapel of her charcoal pinstripe suit. Catherine had purposely kept her distance from her coworkers over the past three years. She always made sure to adhere to her number one rule: Keep her business life and personal life separate.

  “I guess I’ll just have to drink your share, then?” Vivian placed the green file on Catherine’s minimally decorated desk. It matched the rest of her large office—very few personal effects lined the walls and large bookcases. One family photo stood proudly amongst several diplomas and awards for Catherine’s greatest professional accomplishments to date.

  “As long as you don’t slur your words later, have a few in my name.” Catherine chuckled and turned in her chair, looking out at the view for the first time since she had arrived that morning.

  “Very well, dear. Would you like for me to bring you back something for lunch?”

  “No, thank you. I’m sure I have something to eat around here. If not, I’ll get delivery from the deli on the corner. Go enjoy our drinks.” Catherine turned to spare a small smile for her assistant and immediately returned her contemplative stare to the window, watching the large snowflakes that had begun to fall across the city.

  The rest of the workday passed too quickly for Catherine to keep track. She didn’t realize it was past eight o’clock until the sky had gone from gray to black. She finished up the report she had been working on for well over an hour and turned off her computer. She left the files where they were and cleaned up the remnants of the small salad she had eaten for lunch earlier that afternoon. With a briefcase full of work to do at home, and her thick, black wool coat secured around her lean frame, Catherine made her way from the empty office building to the local PATH station to wait for the next train home. Catherine rarely drove into the city during the winter. She didn’t trust the rear-wheel drive of her Mercedes-Benz to keep her safe on slushy nights, nor did she trust aggressive taxi drivers to think twice about the accumulation of snow and ice around them.

  The trip back to her top-floor luxury condominium took less than forty minutes. She stepped across the threshold and was greeted by complete silence. The open space matched her office in its lack of decorations and its large size. Oversized windows let in the moonlight and the sun, whenever it decided to grace the people of Hoboken, New Jersey, with its presence. For now, the beams of silvery light guided Catherine on a well-worn path toward a light switch and a phone with a flashing red number signaling a new message. She flipped the lights on, taking in the muted grays, blacks, and whites of the large living room with expensive leather furniture and a large-screen plasma TV. Connected to the living space was an up-to-date kitchen accented with granite and stainless steel. It was all safe and neutral, sleek and professional, just like its owner’s wardrobe. After hanging her keys on their designated hook, Catherine pressed the play button on the phone and listened intently as she hung her jacket in the small coat closet by the front door.

  “Hey, Cat. I don’t know why I expected you to be home. You’d think I’d know better and try your cell or the office first. Anyway, I just wanted to remind you about my party this Saturday. You better be there!” A warm chuckle filled an otherwise chilly condo. “It’s not every day that your best friend turns thirty! Dennis and the kids send their love. Call me back!”

  Catherine couldn’t help the smile her best friend always seemed to put on her face. Alice Garner had been Catherine’s rock since their freshman year at Rutgers University, although Alice was a Montgomery at that time. Graduations, a wedding, and two kids later, Alice and Catherine’s friendship was as strong as ever, a great blessing in a monotonous life. Now Catherine felt as though she had a family all her own. When Alice had married her soul mate, Dennis, Catherine was afraid she’d be lonelier than ever, but the complete opposite had happened. She was welcomed into the fold and even became godmother to both the couple’s children.

  After microwaving dinner and consuming it without a breath between bites, Catherine shuffled her way to the large master suite. She secured her long, deep brown curls atop her head with a large clip and started the water for her bath. When her claw-footed tub was about half-full and steaming, she added a handful of expensive lavender-scented bath salts. Catherine wouldn’t admit it, but she loved the sexy, feminine air that surrounded her when she used them. She may have been alone and lonely in her empty home, but she made sure to enjoy all the small luxuries she allowed herself. After taking a deep breath of the relaxing aroma, Catherine undressed and put her clothing away before she allowed herself to sink into the bath that awaited her. The stresses of her day slowly washed away, replaced by the personal stresses she tried so desperately to drown in a sea of numbers.

  Her best friend was turning thirty, a milestone Catherine herself would be achieving in just four months. Once the streets of Hoboken started to thaw and flowers bloomed triumphantly, she’d be facing a deadline that had been in place for the better part of a decade. At the naïve age of twenty-one, Catherine had believed she could achieve anything, and she had accomplished most everything she’d planned. Most. Once the water had turned cold, along with Catherine’s mood, she rose from the tub and dried off before putting on her black silk robe. Thoughts continued to swirl around in her mind as she washed what little makeup she wore from her youthful face. Staring back into the large, curious brown eyes in the mirror, she wondered what was stopping her from making that final check on her list.

  As she got ready for bed, slipping nude between expensive sheets, she looked to the picture on her nightstand and smiled. A tanned, pink-cheeked version of herself smiled back, one arm around Alice with two goofy children seated on their laps. It was a wonderful, albeit short, vacation in the Hamptons that past summer. The Garner family and their plus-one had enjoyed long days on the beach with the kids and evenings in front of a campfire with fine wine for the adults. She had never been so relaxed, so happy since graduating from college.

  Every night Catherine would stare at that picture and wonder exactly what she could add to her life to get that feeling back into her every day. She knew the answer. The cold, empty space next to her practically screamed it at her. She had everything else: the job, the apartment, the car, and the cushioned bank account. The echo of her furnace kicking on only served to highlight the void left empty by a missing puzzle piece. Her eyes grew heavy as she calculated the population and the statistical variables that could point her in the direction where a suitable man could be hiding.

  Chapter Two

  Death was inevitable, but it was still hard to deal with. No matter how old the deceased, their death would hit their loved ones with a force no one would be prepared
for. Tears would be shed during the preparations, sobs would accompany the eulogy, and every day that passed after the burial would be under a dark cloud for a long time before it finally dissipated to a dull ache. Some unlucky people suffered more than their fair share of losses, but their frequency didn’t make them hurt any less. Imogene Harris sat paralyzed on her best friend’s couch, tears slowly falling down her cheeks in a well-traveled path. She had buried her grandfather less than six hours earlier, and the disbelief still shook her to the bone.

  “Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to be with your mother?” Sophia sat down beside Imogene’s slumped form and thrust a steaming cup of tea into her shaking hands.

  “I can’t.” She looked to her friend and continued, “It’s like burying my dad all over again. I had to be strong for her then. I can’t do it this time. I need to feel this. That doesn’t make me a bad daughter.” She hesitated before asking, “Does it, Sophia?” She didn’t dare look in the other woman’s eyes. She kept her gaze on her lap and counted each piece of fuzz that clung to her long black dress.

  “Oh, honey.” Sophia wrapped her strong arm around Imogene, encouraging her to rest a tired head on her shoulder. “Of course it doesn’t. You need to grieve. We’re all entitled to that.”

  Sophia Glass had been at her side through the toughest times since grade school, so Imogene didn’t have to specify what she meant when she said she needed to feel “this.” Imogene’s father had died over a decade ago, and she hadn’t been the same since. A small part of her died along with Francis Harris when the second tower fell on that day in September. No matter how many flags were flown in his memory or how many other firefighters had sent their support her family’s way, Imogene and Mary Harris had been left without the man who had loved the women in his life more than anything in the world. In the years that followed, Imogene had turned to her grandfather for the guidance her father used to provide, and now she had lost him as well. In a way, she was grieving the loss of both of them.