Novels by Cosette London

Grandfather taught me at a young age how to be the best businessman I could be, which is why it was a natural fit for me to take over the Dabney-Aparo hotel brand when I did. He taught Father how to be a businessman, but when it was time for him to take responsibility, he ran away like a cowardly chicken. Grandfather took that shame with him to the grave, and it was a fucking pity. He deserved better. During the height of the Roaring Twenties, the Dabney-Aparo brand established itself and emerged as a leader during the stock market crash of 1929. My great-grandfather was well-prepared. He grew the company to great heights, and his son, my grandfather, took over in the 50s. He ran it until the 1990s when he handed it off to me. By then, I was lucky. Old money went a long way, and they had set me up for success.However, over the years, I grew increasingly bored with just hospitality, so I branched out. I owned restaurants. I owned clothing boutiques. I owned clubs. Minutiae just so ha

Alexis's driver pulls up in front of Minutiae alongside everyone else. Minutiae is the place to be on a Friday night. The line is long and I can hear the music from outside. A parking attendant moves to open our door, and I see a familiar face. He helps Alexis out and then offers his hand to me. It confirmed my suspicions when our eyes meet. "Jackson?" I smile. Jackson works at the Rowan Laurel as a valet. Everyone calls him Frenzy, but I just know him as Jackson. He's a year older than me, but he's a good guy. I've always had a little crush on him. But he must moonlight here, too. It would explain why I didn't see him this morning.His smile is brighter. "Well, well, if it isn't Miss Cora Eldredge," he chuckles. He does a little spin of me and then pulls me in for a hug. "God, you're looking beautiful, as always."I thank the gods it's dark and he can't see the blush creep on my cheeks. "Thank you," I answer just as Alexis clears her throat loudly. I chuckle and pull her to me after

I don't go to Kenny's for dinner. I'm supposed to, but I said I would, and I don't. I end up stopping by to see Mimi right after I quit. The look on her face when she sees me breaks my heart, but when I explained everything, she sighs, grabs my hands, and tells me I was listening to my heart and that she can't advise otherwise.Not helpful, Mimi. I need more guidance than that. I try to distract my mind by going back to the dinky little studio that I'm barely staying afloat in. I shower. I take my time to let my curls do their thing with all the various sprays and techniques I have picked up over the years. Looking in the mirror, I smile because they are stunning. I even give myself a pedicure and follow it up with a manicure, but after all that, I can't shake the overwhelming sense of dread and loneliness building inside me. I know I did this to myself. That job at the Rowan Laurel just so happened to best thing that happened to me as of late. Knowing there wasn't somewhere I can wo

I sit in the car longer than I should after it arrives at Eleven AM. The valet doesn't mind because I pay them a shit ton of money to deal with people like me. Frenzy is on staff today. He gained the moniker by being the fastest to get people in and out of their cars. He's a floater. He goes where I need him, and this is where I need him today. When I pull up, he greets me with a handshake and informs me that my parents arrived fifteen minutes ago, and that was ten minutes ago. I've made them wait a total of twenty-five minutes. They're used to this egregious behavior from me. They know I lost my respect for them a long time ago. It's pretty big of them to want to meet now, considering the circumstances. They probably want more money or to be cut back in somehow or to tell me about some grand idea they have for another venture. If it's the first, we can negotiate. If it's the second, I'll consider it. If it's the last one, they can shove that up their asses and move on. I'm sick and

Pardon my French, but fuck.Not just fuck, but an exaggerated fuck with a couple extra u's and c's said with a pleasured sigh.I had no intentions whatsoever to call Kenny and complain. I did, however, have every intention of calling Kenny and asking him who the fuck that perfect-as-hell woman was. That brown hair French braid pulled into a tight bun in the back, those fucking curves for days, and goddamnit, that ass. I have never seen such a perfect fucking ass before. And don't get me started on the respect she oozes. So bloody respectful and a decent human being.My treacherous cock stands at attention after her departure, and it takes a way too bloody long cold shower to get the blood flow traveling somewhere else. It's best for my head to be clear and prepped for my conversation with Kenny. I stand under the shower head a moment longer to warm back up with some hot water once my body seems to have finally calmed. I welcome the warm water after the icy water that both calmed what

"Miss Eldredge?"Every time someone calls me that way, I can feel the dread circulating through my body as if I'm about to get the world's most brutal talking to in existence. I hate it. My hands get clammy. My heart races. I feel out of breath. Reminds me of when I was six, when reality sat in about my parents' death. I did that then, and here I am, doing it now. PTSD much?I smooth the white apron out on the standard Dabney-Aparo housekeeper uniform and look up at my kind boss with a warm smile. I know this man. He's my uncle, mom's brother. He didn't take me in when I was younger because it just wasn’t feasible, so his mother, my abuela, did. I have always been close to him and his family, though."Yes, Mr. Ortega?" I ask. It's unusual to call him by this name. I want to call him Uncle Kenny.He holds his professional composure for a moment before he allows it to soften. "You wear the hell out of that uniform, mija."I chuckle. It's not what I thought of when I thought housekeeper.