Accidental Acquisition (Kindred)

Which was fine with Jillian—she honestly didn’t want kids. Not at the time, anyway. She loved being creative with food and she had a talent for organization and leadership. She always kept a cool head, no matter how dire the situation, which made her an excellent executive chef.

But she’d risen through the ranks to the very top of the restaurant food chain by sacrificing any kind of family life—she didn’t even have any pets, except a couple of goldfish. They were the only animals she didn’t feel guilty about leaving alone all day.

All of which left her lonely and vulnerable as she got into middle age—though Jillian never would have admitted it to herself. It was then that Brad had come into her life. He had been dining with a group of high rollers, who were ordering bottle after bottle of Cristal and the most expensive Wagyu steaks on the menu, which had led Jillian to believe he was a high roller himself.

Which turned out to be a big mistake.

Not that she was looking for a rich guy, but she was in her mid forties—she wanted someone who was financially independent and responsible with money. She herself owned a modestly upscale home in a nice neighborhood which was all paid off. Since there was rarely time in her life for vacations and she didn’t have any kids to spend her money on, her spare income went to paying off her mortgage and into her bank account.

She had mistakenly assumed that Brad was well-off financially because of the company he kept. She hadn’t realized that his expensive meals were mostly paid for by his many “friends.” The fact was, her ex was a grifter. Like a remora eel, he latched onto unsuspecting hosts and sucked them dry. He had probably seen her as an easy meal ticket—a lonely woman in her forties, hungry to be held and cherished.

But of course, Jillian hadn’t known any of that on the night when she went out dutifully to check on the high-roller table and make sure they were happy with everything they were getting. It was one of her duties, as executive chef, to make certain the VIP guests were satisfied—she’d had no idea she was letting herself in for a world of hurt.

Brad had been at his gregarious best that night, ordering more champagne for the table and cracking jokes that made everyone laugh. When Jillian asked if they were enjoying their meal, he praised the food to the skies.

“Wait a minute—so you’re the executive chef here? Does that mean you wrote the menu?” he’d asked, wide-eyed with excitement when Jillian introduced herself. “You must be some kind of culinary genius! And so beautiful, too!”

Jillian still winced when she remembered how she’d reacted to his lavish praise. She had blushed like a schoolgirl and it hadn’t escaped her notice that Brad had completely ignored the twenty-something showgirl who was acting as their waitress in favor of talking to her.

That first night had turned into a whirlwind courtship. Brad had asked if he could see her when the restaurant closed and Jillian had agreed. After that, he wanted to see her every day and they began spending time together constantly. It wasn’t long before they said “I do” in a romantic little drive-thru wedding venue. Jillian had thought it was charming at the time—so utterly Vegas. Later, she understood that everything about Brad was like Vegas—all glitter and glamour on the surface with no substance underneath.

But by the time she figured that out, it was too late.

After wiggling his way into her life, Brad had wiggled his way into her finances as well. It turned out that he was an expert forger and it didn’t take him long to learn how to do her signature. By the time Jillian caught him in bed with a buxom blonde from the Circque du Soleil Zumanity show and kicked him out of her house and her life, he had managed to max out her credit cards, ruin her credit, drain her bank account dry, and get two new mortgages on her house that she could never hope to pay off.

About the only thing he hadn’t gotten into was the safety deposit box she kept at her bank—and that wasn’t for lack of trying. He’d attempted to clean it out as well, only the bank hadn’t allowed him to get in because he hadn’t found the key, which Jillian had hidden in a safe spot.

It was after she found out about the second mortgage and realized how completely financially ruined she was, that Jillian’s old sous chef, Suzanne, had looked her up and asked her to come out to lunch.

Suzanne had been Claimed by Twin Kindred warriors about a year before—the two of them had simply come into the kitchen and literally swept her off her feet right in the middle of dinner service.