JUDGE’S GIRLS
by
SHARINA HARRIS
Family is what you make it.
Three very different women. Only one thing in common. But when their family patriarch dies and they must share his estate, the truths they discover will test them—and everything they think they know about each other.
Beloved Georgia judge Joseph Donaldson was known for his unshakable fairness, his hard-won fortune—and a scandalous second marriage to his much-younger white secretary. Now he's left a will with a stunning provision. In order to collect their inheritance, his lawyer daughter Maya, her stepmother Jeanie, and Jeanie’s teen daughter, Ryder, must live together at the family lake house. Maya and Jeanie don’t exactly get along, but they reluctantly agree to try an uneasy peace for as long as it takes . . .
But fragile ex-beauty queen Jeanie doesn’t know who she is beyond being a judge’s wife—and drinking away her insecurities has her in a dangerous downward spiral. Fed up with her mother’s humiliating behavior, Ryder tries to become popular at school in all the wrong ways. And when Maya attempts to help, she puts her successful career and her shaky love life at risk. Now with trouble they didn’t see coming—and secrets they can no longer hide—these women must somehow find the courage to admit their mistakes, see each other for who they really are—and slowly, perhaps even joyfully, discover everything they could be.
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EXCERPT
After my short trip home to my apartment, I showered
and ordered Chinese food. “Cookies. I need cookies.”
Decision
made, I pulled ingredients from my pantry: flour, old-fashioned oats, brown
sugar, and raisins. The doorbell rang. I glanced at my watch. “That was quick.”
I’d just ordered the food fifteen minutes ago. The bell rang again. “Coming,
coming.” I grabbed my wallet, rushed to the entrance, and yanked open the door.
Instead
of my usual pimply-faced, teenage guy, Roland leaned against the doorframe. The
three-piece suit he’d worn earlier had been replaced by a denim shirt. A
liberal number of buttons were undone to reveal his hard chest. “Rola—” Before
I could finish his name, he rushed me, cupped my jaw, pressed me into the wall,
and kissed me senseless. The door slammed behind us. He lifted me in the air,
and I wrapped my legs around his waist, kissing him with equal intensity.
Somehow, he walked us to the couch. I pushed myself up and arched my back while
he stared down at me as if I were a dream. His dream. My breath stalled in my
lungs. I was equally pleased and dismayed. I needed to focus on making partner,
not being his dream girl. This thing, this attraction we had for each other,
wasn’t a relationship. It was a long-standing booty call. Yes, a little over a
year ago we mutually decided to make our booty calls exclusive with occasional
trips out of town. But one of us would stop it when the time was right. Most
likely, me. I cleared my throat, my chest now heaving under his intense gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.” “But it’s Monday.”
He shrugged. “I needed to see you. I think our
seeing each other only on Tuesdays and Saturdays is a stupid rule, anyway.” He
lowered himself beside me, reached for the remote and muted the television.
“How’re you holding up?” His thumb grazed my lips. I shivered from his warm
touch.
“Some days are better than others.” I pushed him
off and scooted away. “The caramel macchiato helped.” He hooked his leg around
mine and pulled me closer to face him, all the while giving me the infamous Roland
Hill look. The one he used to cross-examine witnesses, eyes narrowed, lips
pinched, and head tilted. The subtle, yet stern look that forced a person to
confess all. I was usually immune, but today it worked on me. “Okay, I’m a hot
mess. Jeanie, my daddy’s wife, is stumbling around like a zombie. And something
is off with Ryder. She’s hiding something from me. Whenever I call, she’s in a
rush to get off the phone.”
Roland massaged my shoulders. “People deal with
grief differently. Maybe you remind her of your father?” I shook my head and
leaned against his chest. “No, I don’t think that’s it. The girl has been my
shadow since she was three years old and they moved in with us. We usually talk
every day. No.” I shook my head again. “Something’s up. But I’ll see them for
the reading of the will on Thursday.”
Maybe I shouldn’t wait until then, I thought. I
could pop by unannounced. Like lover boy here. We had rules of engagement, and
for the most part, we stuck to them. Rule number one never go to his house. It
was a rule I created because his neighbor is the father of the biggest gossip
in our office: Katy, our paralegal. She didn’t live with her parents but was at
her parents’ house often enough to know Roland’s comings and goings. Not to
mention she had the hots for him. One word whispered about our affair could
mean the end of my chances to make partner. Although fraternizing was
technically allowed, it was generally frowned upon. Not to mention generally
women tend to not come out on top when affairs are discovered. Roland would get
a slap on the wrist and a high five when no one was looking. I would either be
frozen out by my coworkers or blocked from any real promotions or exciting
cases until I got the hint and resigned. The very same situation happened to a
friend of mine from law school. I’d be damned if my career got iced because I
couldn’t control my hormones.
ABOUT SHARINA HARRIS
Sharina’s contemporary romance series under the pen name, Rina Gray, was named Book Riot’s 100 Must‑Read Romantic Comedies. When Sharina’s not writing, she can be found with her head stuck in a book, rooting for her favorite NBA teams, and spending time with friends and family.
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