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Life is meant to be savored, but that’s not easy with no family, limited prospects and a past you’d rather not talk about.
Still, Callie Smith doesn’t know how to feel when she discovers she has a brother and a sister—Malcolm, who grew up with affection, wealth and privilege, and Keira, a streetwise twelve-year-old. Callie doesn’t love being alone, but at least it’s safe. Despite her trepidation, she moves into the grand family home with her siblings and grandfather on the shores of Lake Washington, hoping just maybe this will be the start of a whole new life.
But starting over can be messy. Callie and Keira fit in with each other, but not with their posh new lifestyle, leaving Malcolm feeling like the odd man out in his own home. He was clever enough to turn a sleepy Seattle mail-order food catalog into an online gourmet powerhouse, yet he can’t figure out how to help his new sisters feel secure. Becoming a family will take patience, humor, a little bit of wine and a whole lot of love. But love isn’t Malcolm’s strong suit…until a beautiful barista teaches him that an open heart, like the family table, can always make room for more.
In this emotional, funny and heartfelt story, Susan Mallery masterfully explores the definition of a modern family—blended by surprise, not by choice—and how those complicated relationships can add unexpected richness to life.
#1 New York Times bestselling author SUSAN MALLERY writes heartwarming and humorous novels about the relationships that define women’s lives—family, friendship and romance. She’s best known for putting nuanced characters into emotionally complex, real-life situations with twists that surprise and delight readers. Because Susan is passionate about animal welfare, pets play a big role in her books. Beloved by millions of readers worldwide, her books have been translated into twenty-eight languages.
Susan lives in Washington State with her husband, two cats and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur.
www.SusanMallery.com
Also By Susan Mallery
Secrets of the Tulip Sisters
Daughters of the Bride
Happily Inc
Not Quite Over You
Why Not Tonight
Second Chance Girl
You Say It First
Mischief Bay
Sisters Like Us
A Million Little Things
The Friends We Keep
The Girls of Mischief Bay
Fool’s Gold
Best of My Love
Marry Me at Christmas
Thrill Me
Kiss Me
Hold Me
Until We Touch
Before We Kiss
When We Met
Christmas on 4th Street
Three Little Words
Two of a Kind
Just One Kiss
A Fool’s Gold Christmas
All Summer Long
Summer Nights
Summer Days
Only His
Only Yours
Only Mine
Finding Perfect
Almost Perfect
Chasing Perfect
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
When We Found Home
Susan Mallery
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-08350-8
WHEN WE FOUND HOME
© 2018 Susan Mallery, Inc.
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Critics’ Praise for Susan Mallery
“Susan Mallery never disappoints and with Daughters of the Bride she is at her storytelling best.”
—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Heartfelt, funny, and utterly charming all the way through!”
—Susan Elizabeth Phillips, New York Times bestselling author, on Daughters of the Bride
“Mallery blends the friend-and-family relationships common to women’s fiction with the love scenes and happy ending of a contemporary romance, making this an excellent summer read for fans of both genres.”
—Booklist on Secrets of the Tulip Sisters
“An emotional and humorous look at the bonds between the women in an endearingly flawed family.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Sisters Like Us
“Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations. Her engaging and comically touching Mischief Bay series continues to satisfy lovers of women’s fiction.”
—Library Journal on A Million Little Things
“Gabby, Haley, and Nicole are down-to-earth real women with whom readers will be able to identify.... The women’s stories and the depth of support they provide one another make this an engaging read to be savored all the way through.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Friends We Keep
“The characters will have you crying, laughing, and falling in love.... Another brilliantly well-written story.”
—San Francisco Book Review on The Friends We Keep, 5 Stars
“It’s not just a tale of how true friendship can lift you up, but also how change is an integral part of life.... Fans of Jodi Picoult, Debbie Macomber, and Elin Hilderbrand will assuredly fall for The Girls of Mischief Bay.”
—Bookreporter
I’ve always been a big believer that while we can’t control the family we are born into, we can certainly create the family of our heart. It’s something I’ve done all my life: finding amazing mentors, loving friends and advocates who wouldn’t give up on me, even when I wanted to give up on myself. There’s an old saying about blooming where you are planted. I would say, first find a garden that makes you really happy and then go ahead and bloom there.
This book is for those of you who have chosen your family—heart by loving heart. May you always be loved and treasuredfor the beautiful bloom that you are.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Praise
Dedication
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
chapter twenty-six
chapter twenty-seven
chapter twenty-eight
chapter twenty-nine
chapter thirty
chapter thirty-one
chapter thirty-two
epilogue
Reader Guide
Questions for Discussion
Recipes
About the Publisher
chapter one
As Delaney Holbrook watched the man in the suit approach, she did her best to remind herself she’d given up on men in suits—in fact all men and most suits, when it came to that. She was a different person, with new and improved goals, although she could still admire excellent tailoring. And nice blue eyes. And a firm jaw. And his walk. He had a very purposeful walk that was incredibly appealing. She sighed. So much for giving up on men in suits.
She waited until he was directly in front of her before giving in to temptation and saying, “It’s been six weeks and this is getting pretty serious. Don’t you think I should know your name?”
She had no idea how he was going to respond. She half expected him to give her an icy stare and turn away, because this particular man in a suit had an impressive icy stare. She’d seen it more than once, albeit directed at others. But he didn’t glare. Instead he smiled. No, that was wrong. He didn’t just smile, he gave her a slow, sexy grin that kicked her in the gut and left her feeling all fluttery and stupid and just a little hopeful.
Talk about opening Pandora’s box.
“I’m Malcolm.”
His voice was low and masculine, with just enough gravel to give her a happy shiver along her spine.
“Good morning, Malcolm.” She pointed at her name tag. “Delaney, although you already knew that.”
“I did.”
“Your usual?”
Malcolm was a double shot, extra hot, large latte. Although he arrived every morning at exactly seven forty, he bypassed the busy coffee stand in the middle of the building’s lobby, instead making his way to the special bank of elevators that required a cardkey or a security escort to reach their lofty levels. But sometime midmorning, he would wander down for a morning latte.
Her shift ended at ten and more than once she’d found herself lingering, oh so foolishly, so she could take his order. A ridiculous truth that should have embarrassed her, but didn’t. Instead of telling herself that at twenty-nine she was too old to be crushing on a handsome stranger, she went with a kinder, gentler message. Time did heal and as she’d suspected, she was more than ready to return to normal life...whatever that turned out to be.
“My usual,” he confirmed as he handed over a reloadable gift card to pay for his coffee, along with a tall white mug. She ran the card through the cash register, then walked over to start his drink.
Luzia, her teammate, untied her apron. “I’m going to go to the storeroom for more supplies,” she said. “You going to be okay by yourself?”
“I will.”
Luzia smiled politely at Malcolm before stepping out from behind the counter and walking across the lobby.
Alone at last, Delaney thought, careful not to laugh. No way she wanted to explain what was so funny.
Malcolm slid the coffee card back into his wallet, then returned his attention to her. “You’re new.”
“Relatively. I’ve been here nearly two months.” She tipped the small metal pitcher of milk so she could insert the steamer. The familiar hissing, gurgling sound began. She poured four shots of espresso into the mug he’d brought.
“You’re with Alberto’s Alfresco.” She nodded at the logo on his mug. “Your company owns the building and our little coffee stand is a renter. Hmm, does that make you my boss?”
He grinned. “Don’t go there.”
“Why not? I suspect you like being a boss.”
“Not all the time.”
“Most of the time,” she teased. “Your suit is too nice for that not to be true.”
“What is your experience with people in suits?”
“I used to be one.”
“Unexpected.” One eyebrow rose. “Not anymore?”
“No. I’ve decided to go in a different direction.” She poured the steamed milk into his mug. “I know what you’re wondering, so to answer the question, it was my choice.”
In a manner of speaking, she thought. The decision to change careers had been hers—the circumstances leading to that decision had not.
“What direction is that?” he asked.
“I’m going to be a naturopath.” She waited for the look of confusion before adding, “It’s a—”
“I know what naturopathic medicine is. It emphasizes using the body’s own systems for healing through a combination of Western medicine and natural cures.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “My grandfather’s housekeeper has a niece who graduated from Bastyr University with a degree in acupuncture or something like that. Are you a student there?”
She ignored the bit about his grandfather having a housekeeper—the suit already implied money, so she shouldn’t be surprised. “That’s my plan. I have to meet certain prerequisites in science and math but my business degree didn’t require them so I’m going back to college to make them up.” She shook her head. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to go to class and study. My brain is still unamused and crabby about the whole thing.”
He sipped his coffee. “What classes did you start with?”
“Biology and algebra.”
He winced. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks. At first I had to read every chapter three or four times to remember anything. Now I’m down to only having to read it twice. The lab work has been interesting, though. In three weeks, we have to dissect things. I’m dreading that.”
“There shouldn’t be blood. Whatever it is has been dead awhile.”
“Still. Knives, cutting, organs.” She shuddered.
His blue eyes brightened with amusement. “Is this where I remind you that you’re basically studying to be a doctor?”
“Yeah, I get the irony. I try not to think about it, but I get it.”
They looked at each other. She felt...something. Tension maybe, or awareness. Whatever it was, she appreciated the confirmation that she was alive, relatively healthy and moving on with her life. The world kept turning and dragging her along with it.
“I need to get back to work,” Malcolm told her.
She wanted to believe there was a hint of reluctance in his voice, but she couldn’t be sure. Still, it was nice to think about.
“Me, too.” She glanced at her watch. “Or rather, head home and study for a few hours before class. Enjoy the rest of your day, Malcolm.”
“You, too, Delaney.”
He hesitated a second before turning toward the elevators. She watched him walk away and let herself imagine that he would spin back and ask her to lunch. Or dinner. Yes, dinner on his yacht. Or maybe they could helicopter to somewhere nice, although she wasn’t sure where a helicopter ride from Seattle would get them. Portland? Vancouver. Oooh, an international destination!
Regardless, he would ask her to dinner and they would...
She laughed as she rinsed out the milk pitcher and made sure everything was in order for Luzia and the next shift. She and Malcolm would what? Go to dinner? Kiss? Fall in love?
Hardly. They had nothing in common. Years ago, maybe, when she’d been on the fast track in finance. Only then she’d been engaged to Tim. She wouldn’t have noticed Malcolm at all.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told herself as she slipped off her apron. She had plans and dreams and hopes for the future. Not anything she would have imagined, but now, after everything she’d been through, they felt right. She would learn to heal others and if she got through that, she might have the chance to heal herself, as well.
* * *
Alberto’s Alfresco corporate offices occupied the top three stories of the twenty-story building. The company leased out the rest to tenants that ranged from a dentist, three law firms and Amazon. The latter had six floors where people came and went at all hours of the night and didn’t talk to anyone who didn’t work for their company. Malcolm Carlesso hoped they were building drones with artificial intelligence. He enjoyed sci-fi movies. Seeing one lived out in real time would be fun. Or not, he thought as he headed up to the top floor of the building. He didn’t want to go out in a hail of angry drone gunfire.
Malcolm stepped out of the elevator. It was the middle of the workday and people were everywhere—walking in the halls, having meetings, taking calls in their offices. Alberto’s Alfresco was a vibrant, multinational, multibillion-dollar enterprise.
While the company had always been successful, until a few years ago, it had been much smaller. Malcolm had come on board right after he’d graduated from college. He’d been determined to grow the firm and make his grandfather—the Alberto in Alberto’s Alfresco—proud. Two years ago, Malcolm’s mission had taken on an urgency he couldn’t seem to shake.
He passed his own office and went into that of the chief financial officer. Santiago Trejo had joined Alberto’s Alfresco eighteen months ago when Malcolm had stolen him from a successful hedge fund. Together they made a formidable team.
Malcolm nodded a greeting at Santiago’s assistant, sitting guard outside the open door, then entered the large corner office and took a seat. Santiago was on the phone. He smiled when he saw Malcolm and quickly wrapped up his call.
“Quarterly numbers from the East Coast are messed up,” Santiago said cheerfully. “Our friends down in accounting are scrambling. I had to explain our ‘fool me once’ philosophy here at the company. It won’t happen again.” He paused. “What?”
Malcolm pulled his gaze from the view of the vast Seattle skyline and Puget Sound and looked at his friend.
“What do you mean what?”
“There’s something. What happened? You look...” Santiago frowned, as if trying to figure something out. “Different. What’s happened? Did you discover some new truffle oil vendor?”
“Nothing happened,” Malcolm told him, then held out his mug. “I just went for coffee.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
He’d talked to an attractive woman about something other than business. While unusual for him these days, it was hardly noteworthy.
Okay, maybe it was a little noteworthy, but not anything he was going to discuss with Santiago.
His friend was a “get back on the horse” kind of guy. Should a woman ever break Santiago’s heart, a very unlikely event considering how many women came and went in his life, he would simply find one who was smarter, prettier or both, and make them both very happy. Malcolm had chosen another way to deal with his ex-fiancée’s betrayal, and that had been to withdraw into work.
Still, he’d enjoyed talking with Delaney. And looking at her. He’d never had a type before, but as of today, he was definitely into redheads. Maybe he should—
Santiago’s phone buzzed, then his assistant’s voice came over the speaker. “Alberto is in the building. Repeat, Alberto is in the building.”
Santiago looked at Malcolm. “Did you know he was coming? Do we have a meeting? It’s not on my calendar.”
“No meeting.” Malcolm tried to figure out why his grandfather would show up with no warning, then reminded himself the exercise was futile. He would never guess. Alberto didn’t like talking on the phone—if he felt he had something important to discuss during the workday, he would simply drive himself to the office and find the person he wanted to talk to.
The fact that he was here and not at their warehouse in the SoDo—south of downtown—district meant it wasn’t about packaging or food, and wasn’t that lucky. Malcolm still remembered the rotini-fusilli incident from three years ago when Alberto had discovered packaging that had used the two pasta names interchangeably, which might be fine for some but not for a company that prided itself on selling authentic Italian food.
The entire marketing department had been forced to listen to a twenty-minute lecture on the importance of knowing the different types of pasta as they prepared their campaigns. Information they needed to have, but perhaps not delivered by a man in his eighties who still occasionally broke into passionate Italian.
Malcolm set down his mug, then made his way to the elevator bank to wait for his grandfather. Alberto Carlesso had been born in Italy and brought to America when his parents immigrated in the 1930s. During the Second World War the then teenager had put his cooking skills and family recipes to good use in their Seattle neighborhood. Food was scarce and Alberto’s ability to create delicious meals out of whatever was on hand had made him popular. Every summer, he’d made his own marinara sauce with the fresh ingredients grown on neighboring farms. Some of the bottles had made their way to New York where a few Italian grocery store owners had sold them at a tidy profit.
The elevator doors opened. Malcolm smiled at the slightly bent, white-haired man in a suit and tie who walked toward him.
“Hello, Grandfather.”
“Malcolm, they still warn you when I’m coming, eh? What is everyone so afraid of? I’m an old man who no longer runs the company. I’m a pussycat without claws.”
“I think you’re more bobcat than house cat.”
His grandfather grinned. “A bobcat? I like that.”
Even though they’d seen each other at breakfast that morning, they hugged. Alberto was a toucher. Thank goodness he’d retired before the new standards for sexual harassment had come into law, Malcolm thought. Not that his straight-as-an-arrow grandfather would ever make a pass at anyone, but he would hug and occasionally clasp hands with whomever he was talking to—regardless of gender. While most of the employees understood that was just his way, a few were less accommodating.
“I saw the new catalog,” Alberto said as they walked toward Malcolm’s office.
Malcolm held in a groan. Catalog releases were always stressful. Would the customers respond favorably? Would the new products be successful? Would his grandfather want to know why they were offering a line of gluten-free pasta?
“Very nice,” his grandfather continued. “I don’t agree with the macarons but I understand they’re very popular and have an excellent profit margin. You have to keep up with the times.”
“We do.”
They walked into Malcolm’s office. The huge space had been Alberto’s, before the old man had retired. Malcolm had replaced the old-fashioned wood paneling and the carpeting but otherwise had kept the room much the same. The desk and credenza, monstrosities from the 1970s, were a reminder of the heritage inherent in the company and Malcolm liked that.
They passed by the desk and made their way to the seating area at the far end of his office. Malcolm preferred to use a conference room when he had a meeting, but he kept the sofas for the same reason he kept the desk—because they belonged.
Malcolm’s assistant walked in with a tray. She smiled at them both, set the tray on the coffee table and left. His grandfather picked up one of the two mugs of steaming black coffee, along with a piece of biscotti. After dipping the latter in his mug, he said, “I found her.”