Exquisite

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2017 by James Patterson

  Cover design by Kapo Ng; photograph by HABRDA / Shutterstock

  Cover copyright © 2017 Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  BookShots / Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  1290 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10104

  bookshots.com

  facebook.com/JPBookShots

  twitter.com/Book_Shots

  instagram.com/jpbookshots

  First ebook edition: January 2017

  BookShots is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company, a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The BookShots name and logo are trademarks of JBP Business, LLC.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  The Hachette Speakers Bureau provides a wide range of authors for speaking events. To find out more, go to hachettespeakersbureau.com or call (866) 376-6591.

  ISBN 978-0-316-27664-1

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  About the Authors

  Newsletters

  Foreword

  Hello there, BookShots Flames reader. You’re a special breed of reader, and I’m glad you’ve picked up this book. Look, I know your life is busy. Maybe you’re in between two longer works of fiction, or maybe you can only find the time to read during your commute or right before you go to bed. Or maybe you don’t care about the length of a story and are just looking for a good read. But whatever your reason for making this purchase, I hope you enjoy it.

  Because if you’re the type of reader I think you are, I have a feeling you like books with lots of action. I bet you don’t like to be bored. I’m guessing you like stories that have surprises around every corner, and twists tucked into their plots. And I know that I can give you that in this book, and in any of the books we’re publishing with BookShots.

  But you’re a BookShots Flames reader. You’re looking for even more than that. Underneath those shocking plots that keep you on your toes, you like a book with a nice love story. You want to discover soul mates finding each other and enjoy the fireworks show when characters fall in love. You crave romance, and I can’t say I blame you, because I, too, know that love makes the world go ’round.

  And now here you are, at the final chapter in Siobhan and Derick’s journey. You know that things haven’t been easy for them. It’s been hard for Siobhan to trust Derick, and then the distance made things even more difficult for their relationship. There’s a good chance that, since Derick bought Siobhan that gallery, these two are never going to get back together. But you also know the power of love, and are just a little bit curious about whether these two can make it. So go on, turn the page. Let’s give them a final shot.

  James Patterson

  Chapter 1

  Siobhan blew out a frustrated breath and threw her phone into her bag.

  The girls eyed one another cautiously, as if the wrong question might break her completely. A few moments of silence passed before finally one of them spoke.

  “What did he say?” Blaine asked quietly.

  Siobhan leaned her head back against the cushion of Cory’s couch and stared at the ceiling. “Nothing. What can he say? I barely even gave him a chance to speak.” She brought her head down to look at her friends and saw worry written on their faces. “The only reason I answered was so he’d stop calling.”

  “Do you think he knows why you’re not going to the airport?” Marnel asked. “You didn’t even mention the gallery.”

  “He’s an idiot, but he can’t be that dumb. He has to know that I found out about the gallery. What other reason would there be for me to act like this?” She propped her elbows on her knees and settled her chin on her hands pensively.

  “And you know what?” Siobhan could hear her voice getting louder, angrier. “I really don’t care what he knows or doesn’t know. I’m done giving a shit about how he feels because he clearly doesn’t give a shit about how I feel. If he did, he wouldn’t have bought a goddamn art gallery for me without even speaking to me about it first.” Siobhan stood and headed toward Cory’s kitchen. “You got anything to drink?”

  “There’s iced tea in the fridge.”

  Siobhan turned back toward the girls. Her expression must have been enough to tell them that iced tea wasn’t going to be strong enough.

  “And vodka in the freezer,” Cory added.

  Siobhan pulled the bottle out and held it up. “Anyone else want any?”

  The girls shook their heads. “We have to work in a few hours,” Marnel said.

  “Guess it’ll be a party of one then,” Siobhan said, closing the freezer door and heading back to the couch with just the bottle. She took the cap off and plopped down onto the couch. She stared ahead for a minute before bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a long pull.

  “I can’t believe I thought he’d change,” she said, shaking her head. “Or that he did change. He had to have known how I’d react, and he still bought that gallery. And more than that, he kept it a fucking secret. Was he gonna sell my work like it didn’t even mean anything to him? I mean, Jesus Christ, it’s not like he needs the money. None of it makes any sense.”

  Siobhan could hear herself rambling, but she didn’t care. She needed to purge her thoughts.

  Marnel scooted over on the couch to wrap her in a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said without elaborating, but Siobhan knew what she meant. She was sorry it didn’t work out with Derick. Sorry that he kept making the same mistakes over and over again. Sorry that Derick hurt her.

  Siobhan was sorry, too.

  “I literally told him this morning that I’d consider moving back to New York if things between us were good for the next six months. Then, just like that, he had to go and mess everything up again.”

  “Well, to be fair, he’d already messed it up,” Blaine said. “But you didn’t know.”

  Siobhan glared at her.

  “Sorry,” Blaine said, looking contrite. She held out her hand for Siobha
n to pass her the bottle. “I can’t watch you day-drink alone. It’s sad.” Blaine put the bottle to her lips for a swig and then handed it back to her friend.

  Siobhan shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

  Cory got up and returned with four glasses, taking the bottle from Siobhan and pouring a double shot for each of them. “Screw it. We didn’t have lunch yet. Might as well make it a liquid one.”

  Marnel picked up her glass. “Yeah. We’ll be sober by the time we have to go to work.”

  “Or not.” Blaine gave Siobhan a comforting smile, silently letting her know they were there for her when she needed them the most. “What’s Saul gonna do? Fire all of us before our shift even starts?”

  “He’ll probably wait until after we close,” Cory said, making Siobhan laugh for the first time since she’d found out about the gallery. “I knew there was a smile in you somewhere.”

  “So what are you gonna do now?” Marnel asked.

  “I’m gonna drink the rest of this,” Siobhan said, feeling a bit stronger than she had earlier. “Then tomorrow I’m gonna fly back to Detroit and get on with my life as if none of this ever happened.”

  “Sounds like a solid plan.” Blaine gave her a nod of approval. “To Detroit,” she said, raising her glass and prompting the others to do the same.

  “To Detroit,” Cory and Siobhan both repeated as they all clinked glasses.

  “Uh-uh.” Marnel shook her head. “To Siobhan.”

  “To Siobhan,” Blaine and Cory said.

  And for the second time since they’d gotten to Cory’s, Siobhan smiled.

  Chapter 2

  Pulling her earbuds out, Siobhan looked around the terminal. She could have sworn she’d heard her name over the loudspeaker. She grabbed her purse and carry-on bag and walked up to the small desk near the gate. “Excuse me. Did I get paged?”

  The woman looked up from the computer and tucked her silky black hair behind her ear. “Siobhan Dempsey?”

  Siobhan nodded. Don’t even tell me this flight’s overbooked and they’re gonna ask me to give up my seat.

  The woman reached under the counter and handed Siobhan a manila envelope. “This is for you.”

  Siobhan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What is it?”

  The woman shook her head and shrugged. “No idea,” she replied.

  “Okay, thanks,” Siobhan said, turning around to return to her seat. She plopped down again and put her bags on the empty chair next to her.

  She pulled up the metal prongs and unsealed the envelope to remove the few pieces of white paper that were inside. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered, her voice coming out in an annoyed huff.

  She studied the paper closely, making sure it was what she thought. Then she put the papers back into the envelope and shoved it into her carry-on.

  Chapter 3

  Derick pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. “Excuse me,” he said, standing up from the conference table. “I need to take this.” He pushed the thick glass door open and stepped out into the hallway. There was no way he would let Siobhan’s call go to voice mail, even though he was certain that their conversation wouldn’t be pleasant. He might as well get it over with.

  He answered the call and put the phone to his ear. “Hello,” he said.

  “What the hell is this?” was the response.

  “What’s what?”

  “The deed to the gallery.”

  Derick kept his voice even. “It sounds like you already know what it is. Did you need something else?” He knew his response was terse, but he didn’t care. She hadn’t even given him the chance to explain, and here she was calling, clearly angry.

  Siobhan was silent for a moment, and then he heard her blow out an agitated breath. “Yeah. I need you to tell me what you expect me to do with it. You just send me the deed to a gallery you bought, and—” She paused. “I’m not even going to ask how you knew what flight I’d be on.”

  Despite the context, Derick couldn’t help but smile.

  “I’m flying back to Detroit, Derick. What the hell am I supposed to do with an art gallery in New York?”

  Derick put a hand in his pocket. “I’m not sure,” he said simply. “Sell it, run it, have someone run it for you.”

  “I’m glad you gave this a lot of thought,” she spat.

  Derick drew in a calming breath. Though he tried to suppress it, he could feel the sadness in his throat. “Giving you the deed was a loose end I needed to tie up. The gallery’s yours, Siobhan. It was always supposed to be yours. You can do whatever you’d like with it.”

  For a moment, there was silence on the other end of the line until Siobhan sighed heavily. “I’m just so tired of fighting.”

  “You said it yourself. It’s done. There’s nothing to fight about anymore.” He paused to let his words carry the weight he hoped they had. “I have to get back to a meeting,” he said. “I have people waiting for me.”

  “Okay,” she said. Her voice was small, but somehow, it wasn’t weak.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” Rubbing his hairline, he shook his head. “Actually, I guess I won’t. In any case, if you have questions about the property, feel free to call the number I provided on the deed. That’s my lawyer’s line. She can help you with anything you need.”

  “Okay,” she said again.

  “Enjoy the gallery, Siobhan.”

  Chapter 4

  You like that one?” Jacob nodded toward the oak table Siobhan had been running her hand across.

  She turned toward him. “I like all of it. I can’t believe anyone can make pieces like this.” She knew he was talented, but seeing all of his furniture in one place was more impressive than she’d anticipated. “It’s one thing to paint or sculpt, but it’s another to be able to create art that actually has a function.”

  Wendell pointed toward a bedframe on the other side of the boutique. “You ever bang on that bed?” he asked.

  Jacob lifted an eyebrow, letting Wendell know how ridiculous his question was. “It doesn’t even have a mattress on it.”

  Wendell shrugged. “Still. If it were mine, I’d have to screw someone on it at least once before I sold it.” He popped another piece of cheese into his mouth. “You gotta christen that shit.”

  Lilah’s voice floated their way as she approached them. “Did you leave any food for the guests?” she asked.

  Wendell looked confused. “Uh, I am a guest.”

  “I meant the customers, you doofus,” Lilah said. “You’re just a friend. The opening isn’t really for us.”

  Siobhan ignored her friends’ playful bickering and admired the sleek lines and the asymmetry of the chairbacks. “I really can’t get over how incredible your work is.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad all of you could make it tonight.” Jacob smiled proudly before excusing himself to go greet a customer who’d come in.

  Siobhan smiled back, but it felt empty. The thought of Jacob’s boutique opening to the public only reminded her of the gallery she owned back in New York.

  It felt shitty to be celebrating someone’s happiness when she didn’t feel happy herself. But that line of logic only made her feel like a shitty friend. And thinking she was a shitty friend made her feel even shittier. It was a vicious cycle.

  “You’ve been weird since you got back.” Lilah bumped her hip against Siobhan’s.

  “She was always weird,” Wendell said.

  Lilah rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You all right?” she asked Siobhan.

  Siobhan’s first instinct was to lie. She could say she was fine—that she was just tired or overwhelmed or felt like she was getting the beginning of a cold. But if Lilah could tell Siobhan was acting odd, it must have been really obvious. Lilah was the quintessential artistic space cadet. “Not really,” Siobhan replied.

  Lilah grabbed a glass of wine from the table nearby and handed it to Siobhan. “Spill it, Brooklyn.”

  “I’m assuming you don’t mean t
he wine.”

  Lilah stared at her.

  Siobhan rolled her eyes and released a long breath before she spoke. “Derick and I broke up. It’s a long story.”

  Lilah shrugged. “I got time.”

  Wendell suddenly looked uncomfortable, like he’d just walked in on his parents having sex. Clearly plotting his escape, his eyes darted to different spots in the boutique. Listening to Siobhan’s girl problems was probably the last thing he wanted to do. “Uh…I have something…I have to—”

  “It’s fine, Wendell. You can go,” Lilah said, shaking her head. Once he was gone, Lilah looked at Siobhan expectantly. “What happened?”

  Starting at the beginning, Siobhan told Lilah all of it: how Derick’s wealth had always intimidated her, how he’d bought the first paintings she’d ever sold. She hadn’t shared any of that with anyone she’d met in Detroit, choosing instead to leave New York and everything associated with it behind her.

  Detroit had been her escape from the bad memories. But now Derick had tainted that city, too. “He bought the building, Lilah.”

  Lilah looked confused.

  “The one with the mural. He renovated it into office space and some gigantic loft apartment that cost him God only knows how much.”

  “How did he even know about it? Did he even try to explain any of it before you broke up with him?”

  Siobhan drew in a deep breath. “That’s not why I broke up with him.”

  Lilah’s eyes widened. “Jesus, what else is there? What’d he buy, the whole city for you?”

  Siobhan shook her head. “A gallery in New York.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Lilah bit her bottom lip pensively. “Soooo…I gotta be honest, Brooklyn. That’s pretty awesome.”

  “It doesn’t feel awesome. I found out when I walked by it on my way to lunch with some friends. It’s hard not to notice your own paintings hanging in a store window.”

  “Yeah, but…” Lilah looked cautious, uncertain of the right thing to say. “It’s kind of a sweet gesture, don’t you think? Maybe he was waiting to surprise you.”