Page 56 of Tender Offer (Chance at Love #3)

Preston hired Justice at the Donnelley Brand after the firm she started won a national award for the marketing campaign for Terrence’s state-of-the-art training facility.

Jay went on to earn two others, and their working relationship took off.

She and I had many heart-to-hearts, with Terrence and Preston developing their own friendship.

T’s exclusive training program is a hit in Donnelley hotels, which gives us an excuse to fly to Austin every year.

Emma took longer to crack. Kojo gave us space during our initial collaboration with his Rustin brand. Justice and I are closer, but me and Em have a bond that includes swapping clothes and shoes.

Everyone now lives in Austin. The pressure is heavy for us to follow suit, but Preston and I love Paris. It’s magic when we all come together. Tammi even gets in on the action from time to time. Her and Smokey are coming to Paris for Christmas this year—five kids and all.

“Do you want us to drop you off before we head to the hotel?” Justice thumbs to the rental with a nonexistent back seat.

“No thanks,” I say. “I think I’m gonna walk around for a bit.”

Terrence’s brows narrow. “You sure?”

“Positive.” I smile when his worry lines match his wife’s. When I don’t have security with me, I share my location with Preston and Dayo as a precaution. “I haven’t been over here in a minute. You two get out and enjoy your child-free anniversary.”

“I did want to take you to the Eiffel Tower.” Terrence stares down lovingly at Justice, who melts.

“Let’s do it.”

They kiss again before they’re off.

I smile at the day and make my way over to Rue Chaptal. Sunlight catches on the limestone facade of a building, illuminating Juliette balconies.

Summertime in Paris is my favorite. The weather is warm, and the city comes alive with festivals and outdoor movie screenings.

My phone chimes in my purse.

Dominique

Someone is sleepy again.

“Aww.” I melt at the photo of Alessandro knocked out in my sister’s arms, mashed red beans and rice in his tiny fist.

He’s the perfect mix of me and Preston, with my heart-shaped lips and perky nose and Preston’s long lashes and dimples. His mess of thick curls has the same auburn streaks mine did growing up in the Louisiana sun.

My baby is tired.

Good morning over there. I see y’all got him eating good. Thanks for the pic. Love you.

Dominique

Love you too.

My relationship with my sister wasn’t easy to navigate, but we made it to our place of healing.

Both of us had to let go of years of assumptions and guilt to get to where we are now.

Preston and I visit Breaux Bridge every summer.

It’s the only time of year Jewel can get back and we can all be together.

We’ve settled into new family traditions while honoring the former practices that made us who we are.

Life with my in-laws is a different story.

Briar cleaned house—literally. She took most of Victor’s money from his personal trust and what little was left from the Donnelley Brand once Preston cut him off.

News of Victor Donnelley fathering a child outside of his marriage—with his former friend’s daughter, no less—eclipsed the royal family coverage in the tabloids.

Part of me felt bad for Bellamy, who left London to flee the paparazzi and have her baby in peace.

She moved up north, to York, where she raises a now three-year-old Daisy alone.

Preston and William have seen their sister a handful of times. We all tried to visit once, after Alessandro was born, but Bellamy isn’t ready. The father of her child only sends checks, and there’s still hurt she’s working through.

I had to let go of mine to move on. I didn’t want to carry it, and I chose to fill my life with things that bring me joy.

William is still William. He’s come into his own as CEO, and he’s spearheading changes that force the hospitality industry to take notice. Preston is an ambassador for the Donnelley Brand. Their profits now funnel into communities most impacted by environmental racism and climate change.

Through direct support and legislative victories, the community-based collective is doing amazing work.

Jewel still taps in as a thought partner, and she’ll support as legal counsel once she passes the bar.

As for the Donnelley family’s billions, Preston and Will are on track to deplete the chest, outside of ongoing revenue for the collective to use at its discretion.

The brothers created a foundation to give away all the money in their individual trusts over the course of their lifetime.

They’ll still live comfortably and have a modest inheritance for their children, but they’re resetting the scales for better equity.

We see Will at least twice a month. If we’re not hopping over to London, he’s in our refrigerator and the guest bedroom he claimed as his own. Ravenous is still very much alive and thriving. The Donnelley Brand’s Paris hotel now has pop-ups, and we indulge from time to time.

If Kojo only knew how wild this mom gets.

A breeze catches in an alley, fluttering leaves creating a canopy from the sun. My oxfords crunch on the aged pathway that leads up to a familiar property, a cream building with sage shutters. They’re the same color as ours at home, as a symbol of the place where we met.

I haven’t been back to this museum since I was twenty-something and scrambling for an affordable place to eat. Little did that Madison know the wonders that were written in the stars for her. There was heartbreak and drama—lots of it—but so much love.

“Like what you see?” I smile at the voice speaking French behind me. It still makes my pulse race.

My eyes shift away from the old building to a sharp jawline with a trimmed goatee, thick brows, and teasing dimples. Warm honey skin peeks out of a white polo tucked into navy chinos.

“Maybe.” I force my cheeks down to feign indifference.

Preston lifts a brow, and I snort.

“Do you like what you see?” The question I volley back is in French, and it earns me a nod.

“Very much so,” he says, his rich timbre licking my ear. “Have dinner with me. Tonight.”

I smirk and turn away. “I’m a happily married woman.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“Is that right?” I laugh at his nod.

He bites his lip and steps closer. His gaze is a slow drag up my hips to my nipples, which are now hard beneath cotton fabric. I scream internally, trying to hold it together as he swipes his tongue across his teeth.

“I don’t dine with strangers,” I whimper, the last of my restraint to not maul this man.

Preston looks better than the day we first met eighteen years ago. He’s slowly becoming a silver fox, hard in all the right places.

I let my eyes drop to the bulge tenting his pants.

“You’ll get that tonight. After I feed you,” he says. His fingers wrap around my waist, his voice a low rumble. “I checked your location and saw you were here.” He smiles. “It’s fitting for today.”

“What’s today?”

“The day we met. Here.” His eyes lift to the museum behind me, a house preserving romance and the start of what would become our love story. Life has a way of always rerouting us to where we need to be.

“Have dinner with me,” he says again.

“You’re still a stranger,” I tease while running my fingers through his hair.

“We should fix that.” He kisses my lips. “Preston.”

The opportunity for a do-over doesn’t come around often. When it does, seize it with your whole heart.

Some love stories deserve a second chance.

I look him in the eyes and smile at forever.

“Madison.”

THE END