Match Made In Paradise by Barbara Dunlop (black female authors TXT) 📕

service at all?” she asked as she set her wineglass down on a small wood-slated side table. It wiggled a little but then settled with three of its legs touching the warped floor.

“If you climb up to the cache, you can usually get a bar. It’s spotty, but if you’re in a pinch . . .”

Mia found it almost impossible to believe a person could live without cell service or wireless. “And if somebody wants to get hold of you?”

“They come over. It’s only a few miles into town, and I can use the Galina wireless when I’m at work. Or the Bear and Bar will sell you a package. It’s slow and expensive, but it works.”

“No streaming services, I guess.”

Raven shook her head. “I’ve got a basic satellite dish and a DVD player.”

“I’m off the grid,” Mia said in amazement as she took a bite of the burger.

“You did say you wanted to hide out. They sure won’t find you here.”

The bun was fresh and delicious. The charred meat was crisp and flavorful. Mia barely even noticed that the vegetables were lacking. “This is delicious.”

Raven smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

“What’s your secret?”

Raven shrugged. “No secret. Burgers, heat, buns.”

“I’ve never tasted a bun like this.” The texture was dense and soft at the same time, with an interesting smoky sweetness.

“It’s sourdough from the Bear and Bar, made with fireweed honey instead of sugar.”

“Wow,” Mia said and took another bite. “This is dangerously good.”

“You’re probably starving,” Raven said, taking a sip of her wine. “WSA isn’t known for its stellar in-flight service.”

Mia smiled at that. “They didn’t even have a bathroom.” She remembered the hard green seats and the gritty floor. It was a far, far cry from her first-class leg out of Los Angeles.

Raven grinned along with her. “You learn to go before you get into a small plane around here, that’s for sure.”

“I almost didn’t.” Mia recalled Silas’s expression when she’d had to bail out for the restroom before takeoff. She took a sip of wine to forget and discovered the merlot wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d feared.

“How long will you need to stick around?” Raven asked.

Mia was hit with a sinking feeling. “Is having me here a problem?”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant at all.” Raven gestured around. “I was thinking this must be quite the downgrade from your mansion.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.” Mia hoped she hadn’t done anything to give away her dismay at some of the amenities.

“It can’t be much fun for you,” Raven said.

Mia watched her cousin’s expression, trying to figure out if she was welcome or not. “It’s better than the threats.”

“Threats?”

“You know, the trolls on social media, and the people at the end of my driveway accusing me of dancing on Alastair’s grave, of stealing his company, of murdering him. Some of them want revenge.” Mia took a larger swig of her wine.

Raven looked genuinely shocked.

“You’re really not on social media, are you?” Mia asked.

Raven shook her head.

It hadn’t occurred to Mia that Raven wouldn’t know the broad strokes of her situation. She’d been bombarded with it so steadily herself, it felt as though everyone in the world had sided with Henry and Hannah and developed a morbid interest in waiting on Mia’s eventual comeuppance.

“Alastair’s children have taken me to court over the will. It’s their mother pulling the strings. I’m sure of it. She was such a witch to Alastair during the divorce.”

“I didn’t remember Alastair had kids.”

Mia knew she’d never mentioned them. “They’re twenty-five now; twins, Henry and Hannah. They’ve lived with their mother since they were seven, and she systematically turned them against him.”

“So, they’re . . . our age?”

“You can imagine how well that went over. Everyone decided I married him for his money. That’s the furthest thing from the truth.” It was important that Raven believe her.

“I never thought you did. I mean, why would you? You were already a successful model. And who needs that much money anyway?”

Money was obviously not important to Raven. That was both admirable and refreshing.

“His kids want it now,” Mia said. “And they’re going to fight hard.”

“All of it? Can’t you just split it up?”

“They’re after the company. He left Lafayette Fashion to me so I could continue the legacy, run it just like he has all these years. But people don’t know that part, or they don’t want to know that part.” Mia polished off her wine.

“Don’t know what part?” Raven finished her own glass and reached out for Mia’s empty.

“How much I helped him run it over the years. It’s what we did. We collaborated. We talked through everything. I wasn’t just a face of the company, I was behind the strategy too.”

When Raven got to her feet, Mia followed her into the kitchen.

“Virtually every night,” Mia continued, “we’d have dinner, wine or a cocktail; review the day; talk about upcoming lines and shows, fabrics, marketing campaigns. I had input on everything.”

Raven pressed the spigot on the wine box and refilled Mia’s glass.

Mia pictured Alastair’s battery cork remover, the expensive bottles he so lovingly pulled out of the big wine cellar then told short stories about their vintage and his expectations. Even when his heart condition meant he couldn’t drink wine, he’d still open a bottle for Mia, saying he loved watching her enjoy it.

She’d never given a thought to how much of the bottle got wasted. But she gave it a thought now, wondering if anyone on the housekeeping or cooking staff had thought to take it home or share it among themselves. She hoped they had.

She accepted the glass from Raven, taking a sip and banishing her memories. This wine was perfectly acceptable. She didn’t need to be a princess every minute of every day.

“So who are you hiding from? Shouldn’t you be running the company?”

“The twins got an injunction against me. The vice presidents are running it until the estate is settled.”

Raven sat down. “Then shouldn’t you be in court fighting them?”

Mia returned to her own unexpectedly