Stupid Love: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (The Prescotts Book 1) Read online

  Contents

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  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

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  Chapter 1

  Books by Tara Wyatt

  About the Author

  Stupid Love © 2020 by Tara Wyatt

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Croco Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  ISBN 978-1-7771046-6-5

  1

  Theo Prescott dropped down into one of the leather dining chairs surrounding a large, round table, flashing an apologetic grin at his brothers. Their table sat alone in the empty nightclub owned by his brother Lucian, the stark white tablecloth a sharp contrast to the club’s elegantly dark interior. As usual, they were set up in their regular location on the upper level overlooking what would become the dance floor in about three hours.

  He slipped his messenger bag off over his head, setting it on the floor at his feet. Shit, even Max was already here, and he was always late for their usual Friday dinner at Lucian’s. And that was when he could tear himself away from work long enough to even make it to their weekly tradition of steaks, whiskey, and shooting the shit.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” said Theo, pulling his chair in. “Client got served at like 4:58.”

  “Only the worst kind of human would do that on a Friday,” said Lucian casually, sliding a tumbler of whiskey towards Theo, who accepted it gratefully.

  “No kidding. Her ex seems like a real piece of work, and I know his lawyer. Lies in court, drags things out as long as possible, hides information, advertises himself as a pitbull. He’s a total scumbag who lives to make people miserable.”

  “As opposed to the loving, kind, altruistic divorce lawyer that you are,” said Sebastian, batting his eyelashes at him and laughing at his own joke.

  Theo took a sip of his drink and raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I try to treat people fairly, okay? I’m not out to ruin anyone’s weekend by serving papers at the last minute on a Friday. That’s a dick move.”

  A waitress who worked for the club approached and set down a large basket of warm, fresh bread along with a plate of artisanal olive oil in the center of the table.

  “Thank you, love,” said Lucian with a charming smile. She smiled back, running her fingers up Lucian’s arm before sauntering away, her tight black outfit leaving nothing to the imagination.

  “So, Bastian, how’s the merger going?” asked Max, who lived to talk about business and almost nothing but. He’d founded his own tech company at twenty-five and happily worked eighty-hour weeks. If you could describe anything Max did as happy, anyway.

  Sebastian leaned back in his chair, his fingers curled around his glass. He was the VP of marketing and project management for a large real estate development firm, although you wouldn’t know it from his behavior. “It’s not. The lawyers—” At this, he shot Theo a derisive look, “—are still arguing over contract terms. We’re completely stalled.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot dirty looks at me,” said Theo, reaching for a piece of bread and dragging it through the olive oil. “I have nothing to do with corporate law. I took the high road and instead try to prevent millionaires from killing each other and using their children as pawns when they discover that happily ever after isn’t actually a real thing.”

  “A-fucking-men to that,” said Sebastian, clinking his glass against Theo’s. Theo chuckled, glancing around the table at his brothers. They were only missing one other sibling, their sister Aerin who’d left Manhattan for a fresh start in Dallas after her messy divorce a few years ago. She and Theo were the lawyers in the family, although she’d parlayed her law career into one as a very successful sports agent. She was also the only one currently in any kind of romantic relationship. She’d gotten engaged to her boyfriend, MLB manager Javier Flores, last year, and their wedding was quickly approaching. She was the only one of the Prescott five to have ever gotten married—probably because she was insane—and now she was doing it again. Yes, when Aerin and Javi had hit a rough patch, he’d encouraged her to find a way to work through it, but he hadn’t been suggesting she hop on the matrimony wagon again. Not by a long shot.

  There was a small commotion by the front door, and Lucian turned, glancing over his shoulder. His eyebrows slashed downward and his eyes narrowed. “Excuse me. Just a little business with our friendly neighborhood drug dealers.” He pushed up from his chair and, with a quick tug on his suit jacket, hurried down the curving staircase that led to the main level of the club.

  “You know, sometimes I think we should probably be scared of him,” said Max almost idly, ripping a piece of bread to shreds without actually eating it. Theo was pretty sure Max never actually ate carbs. He was far too rigid and disciplined to indulge in something like bread. The fact that he’d been a chubby kid and had been teased mercilessly for it was probably a contributing factor too. But long gone were the days of Pudgy Prescott. As an adult, he ate healthy, lifted weights almost daily and went for weekend runs through Central Park.

  Sebastian shook his head. “Nah. He’s one of us. Other people should be scared of him, sure. I mean, if I heard that Lucian Prescott was coming for me, I’d probably shit my pants. But…” He looked around the club and shrugged. “He’s had my back more times than I can count.”

  Theo nodded, but he wasn’t as sure as Sebastian. Granted, he was the well-behaved one in the family. He didn’t get himself into trouble with loan sharks or the mafia or whatever the hell else Sebastian managed to tangle himself up in.

  But they all had their demons. They all had their scars. How could they not, after the way they’d grown up? Sure, they’d had money. But money couldn’t replace stability and affection. Money couldn’t make up for the way their father had never believed Lucian to be his son, and had treated him like absolute dirt because of it. Money couldn’t make up for the way their mother had drank and popped pills and neglected them, if not financially, then emotionally. Money couldn’t make up for the way their father had cheated, over and over again, driving their mother insane. Money couldn’t make up for the way they’d used the five kids as pawns in their inevitable divorce.

  Theo turned, craning his neck to see what was happening downstairs. It had gotten very, very quiet. He couldn’t hear what was being said, could only see Lucian talking very intently to a group of young Asian men. He pointed to the door and they all turned and left as quickly as possible, proverbial tails tucked between their legs. Lucian turned, once again adjusting his suit jacket, and came back up the stairs.

  “Well. Where were we?” he asked, sitting down and tossing back the rest of his whiskey.r />
  Sebastian grinned. “Theo was late because his client’s ex is a dick, the merger is on hold because lawyers are dicks, Max only wants to talk about work because he’s a dick, and you…what just happened there?” Lucian raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Sebastian shook his head. “You know what? I don’t think I want to know.”

  Lucian waved it away. “It’s nothing. Just some stupid kids who keep trying to sell drugs in my club. It’s been dealt with.”

  Lucian, at forty-three, was the oldest Prescott sibling, followed by their sister, Aerin. For a while, they’d been the only two Prescott children, but then Max, Sebastian and Theo had come along one after the other as their mother had tried in vain to make their father stop cheating by getting pregnant over and over again. Now, Max was thirty-five, Sebastian was thirty-four, and Theo, the baby, was thirty-two. And they were all single—purposely, deliberately single—except for Aerin. Who Theo adored, but still thought was batshit for wanting to get married again.

  “I offered to do a prenup for Aerin and Javier,” he said suddenly, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table. “She turned me down.”

  Three sets of eyes landed on him, all of them as disbelieving and incredulous as he felt.

  “She what?” asked Max, frowning. “Who the hell would get married without a prenup?”

  Theo sighed. “Someone who thinks they’re actually in love.” At that, they all shook their heads. Poor Aerin. She was the only Prescott who hadn’t learned, apparently.

  Lucian tilted his head. “Can you make one for her without her knowing?”

  Theo laughed. “Uh, no. That’s not how contracts work.” Lucian opened his mouth to argue, but Theo cut him off. “I’m talking about legal contracts.”

  “Ah. Well, then. That would be your area of expertise, not mine.”

  Theo shot him a look. “I don’t know whether to laugh or have you investigated.”

  Lucian smiled. “Surprise me.”

  Max and Sebastian chuckled. Studying his eldest brother, Theo wondered if Lucian was at all curious about his paternity. Theo and his sister Aerin both had dark blond hair and blue eyes, just like their mother, although Aerin’s eyes were a darker, almost grayish blue where Theo’s were lighter. Max and Bastian looked the most alike, both having their father’s dark brown curls and their mother’s blue eyes. But then Lucian…his hair was almost black, and his eyes were a deep brown. He had the kind of eyelashes that made it look like he was wearing eyeliner or mascara or whatever. And his facial structure…it was just different. Theo, Bastian, Aerin, and Max all looked like siblings. But Lucian…it was hard to say.

  “Aerin’s a lawyer. I’m sure she knows how to protect herself,” said Max. Just then, the waitress returned with a large, round tray laden with plates. The scent of seared meat filled the air, making Theo’s mouth water and his stomach grumble. It had been a busy day, and he hadn’t had anything to eat since the protein bar he’d scarfed down around 11:30. He’d had court that morning, followed by a mediation hearing, then a few hours trying to dig out of his inbox, a phone call with a potential client, and then that damn filing that had come in at the end of the day.

  Theo nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine.” It didn’t feel fine. He worried that his sister—the one who’d loved him and protected him and nurtured him as best she could while they were growing up—was making a huge mistake and would end up shattered again, just like after her first marriage had ended. The one time he’d tried to talk to her about it, she’d just smiled coyly at him, as though she were privy to some universal piece of knowledge he was lacking.

  The conversation moved back to business, which was only natural, given that Lucian was an entrepreneur, Max was leading his own tech company, and Sebastian was always happy to shoot the shit about corporate stuff. As they talked, Theo enjoyed his steak, sighing and putting his fork down when he heard his phone buzzing from inside the pocket of his messenger bag.

  “Theo Prescott,” he answered, picking up his whiskey and wandering away from the noisy conversation at the table.

  “Hey, Theo, it’s Bradford. Sorry to call you on a Friday night.” Bradford Kingston was a family law attorney at a rival firm, and even though he and Theo often found themselves in the role of opposing counsel, they had an easy, collegial relationship.

  “No problem. What’s up?”

  “It’s about the Harris-Dearborne prenup. There’s no way she’s going to sign this thing. I can’t in good conscience advise my client to agree to waiving alimony.”

  And Greg Dearborne, Theo’s client, was hell-bent on not paying Alison Harris a cent if they split up. He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Remind me again what Ms. Harris does for a living?” He knew, but he was taking Bradford somewhere and wanted him along for every step of the argument.

  “She’s an anesthesiologist.”

  “Right. Impressive. That’s a pretty lucrative field, no?”

  “Just tell me what you’re thinking, Prescott.”

  “Listen, Greg’s loaded right now. He’s got the chain of stores, the software company, tons of investments. But your client’s career and earnings potential are a lot more stable than his. The stores could go under. The software company could bust. The investments could tank. He could wake up in six months and have nothing. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that she could wind up making more money than him in the future. If she waives alimony, so does he. It protects her, too.”

  “Hmm.”

  He smiled. “Talk it over with your client and let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  He sat down and dug back into his steak. Five minutes later when his phone chimed, it was a text from Bradford, a single thumbs up emoji. He grinned and finished his whiskey. It was in moments like this that he really loved his job. He’d gone into family law because he’d wanted to protect the children of divorce from going through the same thing he’d had to endure, and he did that on an almost daily basis. But more than that, the high of successfully arguing a case was addictive and one he’d never get tired of. He’d developed a reputation of being able to get his clients whatever it was they wanted, not because he was some kind of ruthless shark—he most definitely wasn’t—but because he was very, very good at convincing his clients that they wanted what he’d be able to get them. It didn’t hurt that his career also afforded him a very comfortable lifestyle. Recently, there’d been rumors that he was being considered for a junior partnership given how much money he brought in to the firm, but he’d yet to hear anything concrete about it. Still, just the idea filled him with excitement. A junior partnership would mean bigger cases with more high-profile clients and the chance to really make his mark on the firm.

  “Anyone staying tonight?” asked Lucian. “I have a VIP booth no one’s booked yet that you’re welcome to.”

  Theo shook his head. “Can’t. It’s Lauren’s birthday. I’m meeting up with her and some friends at a karaoke bar later.”

  “Ah, Lauren,” all three of Theo’s brothers said in unison, feigned sappy grins on their faces.

  “Lovely Lauren,” said Lucian.

  Max smirked. “Luscious Lauren.”

  “I can’t think of something that starts with L, but she’s fucking hot.” Sebastian shrugged.

  Theo set down his steak knife, a surge of protectiveness charging through him. “If any of you ever,” he swiveled his gaze from one brother to the next, “ever, ever make a move on Lauren, you’re dead meat.”

  Max chuckled. “That a threat, counselor?”

  Theo didn’t laugh. “You’re damn right it’s a threat. Seriously. All three of you—Lauren is off limits.”

  Lucian held up his hands, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I would never make a move on your woman.”

  “She’s not my woman.” And it was true. She wasn’t. And she never would be, even if he did want her in every imaginable way. “But she is my closest friend.”

  Max and Sebastian exchanged a look.
“Uh huh. Yep. Just your friend,” said Sebastian, popping a bite of asparagus into his mouth. Even though his tone was teasing, the words had a bite to them. Yeah, he and Lauren were friends and had been for a long time now. Yeah, he had feelings for her of the completely non-platonic variety. But he’d ever act on them, because she deserved so much better than anything he could ever give her. She meant so much to him, and he didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she felt anything beyond the platonic for him. So, end of story.

  “And how old is Lauren?” asked Lucian.

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “Actually twenty-nine, or really thirty something but in denial twenty-nine?” asked Sebastian.

  “Actually twenty-nine.”

  “Well, do tell her we all wish her the happiest of birthdays,” said Lucian dryly. “O fierce protector of Lauren and her virtue.”

  Theo rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if she dates anyone else.” Which was a big fat lie. The last time she’d had a semi-serious boyfriend, he’d been jealous as hell.

  Lucian stared at him in a way that had Theo wondering if he was about to call him out, but then he shrugged. “Anyone want another whiskey?”

  2

  Lauren MacKinnon looked up from her computer at the man standing before her. He had a glint in his eye she both recognized and dreaded, but she forced herself to plaster on a professional smile. “Hi there. Can I help you?”

  The man’s eyes traveled up and down her body, starting with her hair and ending where her body disappeared behind the hulking reference desk. “Yeah, I’ve got a question for you.” She braced herself, but relaxed a little when the man continued speaking. “I’m looking for this book I checked out a few years ago. Maybe it was longer ago than that, I’m not sure. Anyway, I don’t remember the author or the title, but I recall that the cover was red.”