Page 1 of The Fiance Dilemma

PROLOGUE

A little over a year earlier…

Josie

The day you pick up the phone and a complete stranger says,I’m your father,you know your life is about to change.

I mean, look at Luke Skywalker. His existence turned all topsy-turvy after hearing those four words. And although I wasn’t some guardian of justice about to be pushed to the very edge of evil and the man on the phone wasn’t a heavy-breathing galactic villain in a mask, my world went a little off-kilter.

In the span of one call, I went from having a parent I’d known nothing of—except that his name was Andy—to entering the life of a man who happened to shareone of those nightswith my mother twenty-nine years ago. And by that, I obviously mean theroll in the hay then never look backkind of night. Which is fine, really. Mom never talked too much about that, or the man she went allbam-bam in the hamwith, but she’d always told me enough so I wouldn’t resent him or how I was conceived. That doesn’t mean that a partof me never wondered. It did. But for the most part, I’d always been content with what I’d known. So what if it was just Mom and me? So what if that looked different from the other kids’ families? So what if I had to fill the one side of my genealogy tree with my sea animal sticker collection, which led to being calledjellyfishfor all of fifth grade? They are stunning creatures, hugely underrated, and I owned it. Being brought up by a single parent wasn’t that rare or strange. And like Mom always said,normal is what you make of the cards fate hands you.

It turned out, fate had been saving a couple of jokers up its sleeve.

Because after close to three decades of radio silence, my father was on the phone. And he had a first name (Andrew,not Andy, he insisted), a last name (Underwood), a zip code (Miami), and apparently, the mission to introduce me to a new family. A new world. A realm of life I never expected I’d belong to.

I also had a sister.A sister.And Andrew Underwood? He was a big deal.

And we’re not talkinghe’s done well for himselfkind of deal. We’re talkingbusiness mogul, multimillion-dollar corporation, name in headlines, definitely has a chauffeur, probably a helicopter tookind of big deal. He owned an MLS soccer club, for Pete’s sake. Andrew Underwood had done more than well. He was thriving. And I knew, not because he’d just rattled that off as an introduction, but because I’d heard of this man before the call. Just like all of Green Oak, the county, and lately, most of the country.

That’s why I laughed. After the longest period of silence, I laughed. It was either that or hang up, frankly. Because this man was tellingme—Josie Moore, mayor of my hometown, proud coffee shop owner, collector of all things shiny, and enthusiastic fixer of broken pottery—that the man whose space I’d filled with a manta ray in my family tree was Andrew Underwood? Not only that, butthat I was somehow also part of a complicated, wealthy world right out of an HBO drama centered on legacy? I didn’t belong. I was a small-town girl.Proudly so.And sure, I’d been briefly engaged to a politicianandtechnically almost became a WAG, but those were near misses. That was as close as I’d ever gotten. I couldn’t be part of someone’s legacy. Hence the laughing.

I don’t joke, Josephine,Andrew replied in the same stern voice he had used to deliver the news. But undeterred, I chuckled some more. That’s when he brought up Mom. I can’t remember what he said exactly, just the wordsEloise,andI’m sorry for your loss,or some other pleasantry.

Later, I realized I’d stopped listening right then and there. There was something about someone’s assistant setting up a call. Some other thing about how Andrew would appreciate if I kept this conversation under wraps. And something about the press. But during the remainder of that call, everything slowed down and I wentpoof,nodding my head here and there, and eking out monosyllables when the line went quiet.

That night I didn’t sleep a wink. The fact bothered me. So much that I—gently—let one of my flower vases slip through my fingers so I could spend hours putting it back together and… stop thinking. Or have the excuse to. I wasn’t sure. I’d always thought of myself as someone who liked change. For the most part, change had been handed to me, but I could pinpoint a handful of instances when I’d chased it. I liked to be challenged. And change did that to you. I had no choice but to push through, and for a while, everything faded around the edges and all my energy went toward the one thing. Rising to the top. Overcoming.

Change spiced up life, in my opinion. It kept you on your toes.

But for the first time, faced with this new development, this new quest to embark upon, this new hand of cards fate had been saving for me, I didn’t feel excited. It terrified me.

Because after I’d lost Mom, I’d lost all hope of ever finding out whoAndywas. To find those missing puzzle pieces that made me the woman I was today. Or to simply have the choice to decide if I wanted to pursue that search.

There was not much of a choice now. Andrew had just landed smack bang in the middle of my simple life, throwing open a door right in front of me.

The million questions I’d kept bottled up were bubbling inside me. I felt like a different Josie.

Normal is what you make of the cards fate hands you.

I think I knew then that change was beginning.

CHAPTER ONE

Present day

I plunged my hand into the jam jar.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I murmured, watching some of the jam spill as I pushed further in, strawberry-red goo covering my skin all the way up to my wrist. “Don’t do this to me.Please.Come out. Nice and easy.”

“Moshie?” Grandpa Moe’s voice reached me from the living room.

I froze, the wiggling of my fingers coming to a sudden halt. Darn it. If Grandpa saw what was currently stuck around my finger I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Furthermore, if he saw me using all the jam after I’d promised I’d bake him a cheesecake, he would—

“Moshie,”came again.

“Yes?”

“Fhere’s a moomaan in the yarhd.”

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