The Crossover Barnes And Noble Novels & Stories

“We’re the Cross family, Mya. Billionaires. Our father built an empire, and we’ve carried it forward. Everything he left—the businesses, the properties, the legacy—it belongs to us. To all of us.” Her breath caught. Alexander’s gaze locked on hers, steady and unflinching. “Including you. You are one of us. Which means you are a Cross heiress. A billionaire in your own right.” The café seemed to tilt around her. The hum of conversation faded. The hiss of milk steaming, the scrape of chairs—all of it blurred.

She looked like she’d just come from a meeting she’d bullied someone into canceling. “I brought caffeine,” Hailey said, brushing past her into the living room. “And croissants, because I knew you wouldn’t eat anything solid today.” Elara blinked. “It’s too early for this level of concern.” “It’s eleven-thirty,” Hailey corrected, dropping the bag on the couch. “And I saw your face on every business outlet this morning. The CrossTech–Duval merger’s being dubbed The Power Couple Partnership.” Elara groaned. “Of course it is.”

I tell him retrieving the bags from the floor. "great, I just returned from a business trip. here's my card, you can call me if you need help with anything" He hands me a black shiny card and wishes me a nice day. "Girl! did you buy the whole snack machine? and why did you take so long?" Sara ask helping me carry one of the shopping bags. "Guess who I just saw on my way back from the airport shops?" I'm sure she's going to be pissed considering she doesn't like guessing stuff.

Across it is a box of a building with loud music, neon lights, and a sign flapping in the wind that reads Another Bar, Crosby Tennessee, voted second best bar in The Smokies. We wait just hidden in the trees, he tells us to keep quiet, but what we wait for, I’m not sure. I can see the glow of the lights in CeCe’s eyes. I swallow hard as I notice her eyes glow more like a cats than mine in the darkness. People come in and out of those double doors. They laugh, they sing, they don’t seem to have a care in the world. I consider screaming for help. But I’m too afraid he’ll drag us back into the woods again. And I’ll never come back out.

No surprise there seeing as the school didn’t seem particularly interested in whether or not the students had a social life. An hour into my student detailing, my shirt catches in a crack on the table. I hadn’t realized just how far I had bent down studying their faces. I yank on my shirt, bringing both my empty mug and the file crashing to the ground. Muttering a curse under my breath, I bend to pick up my mug and as I make for the files I realize it had opened to a different page on impact with the floor. Two sets of light brown eyes stare up at me. The next thing I notice is the beautiful trail of light brown specs that line his nose and cheeks. “Hosea Navarro,” I mutter. Attached to his

The soft groan of wood rang out in the quiet bookstore as Lena turned over the last sign on the door: **CLOSED**. Outside, the city drew a breath, illuminated by amber streetlights and the quiet rumble of passing cars. Within, the world held its breath. Warm. Intimate. Holy.

Leaving the garage, I closed it behind me. After a while of arranging my things, I saw the other bags and opened one of them. It contained female clothes, and for a moment, I wondered how they entered my bag. Barry, who went to buy a hammer from a canteen down the street just returned. There was a loose bookshelf in the study, and I wanted to fix it myself. “How did this get here?” I asked aloud. “Isn’t that supposed to be Miss Leah’s bag?” he asked.

After a few hours trawling Fifth Avenue, I stepped into Barnes & Noble, I needed to get some new reading material and more urgently in that moment, loaded with bags, I needed to sit down and get a coffee. The coffee shop was on a mezzanine level and I placed my order and dropped my bags next to a table at the edge overlooking the bustling first floor. There seemed to be a small crowd waiting for the arrival of an author to do a book signing. I tried to make out the name of the author on the signage but it wasn’t clear. The book was called “Starting Over” and I recalled I’d heard about it on a podcast, it was about a woman waking from a Coma and starting her life over. Apparently, it was the

A BLARE closed in fast and SLAPPED past. WHEEEEEEE-WHIZZZZZZ-CHUG-CHUG…. CLICKITY-CLACK…. CHUG-CHUG…. CLICKITY-CLACK…. A never-ending blur of blue whizzed past. “This happens every day?” Dev shouted over the thundering noise. “Every day except the weekends,” the balding man blasted back . After the last bit of the express train chugged out of view, their train began to roll when his eyes fell on the house across the empty track – a decent, single-story with a dainty vegetable garden. It had its back to the passing trains. What caught his attention was something else.