Polarity of Us Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Connect with K.B. Ladnier

  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

  Daisy’s “Get Laid” Brownies

  Also by K.B. Ladnier

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Polarity of Us

  K.B Ladnier

  Contents

  Connect with K.B. Ladnier

  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

  Epilogue

  Daisy’s “Get Laid” Brownies

  Also by K.B. Ladnier

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Connect with K.B. Ladnier

  kbladnierauthor.com

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  Copyright © 2017 by K.B. Ladnier

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover Design by Stacy Ane

  To those who love someone, despite or because of their flaws and differences.

  One

  Daisy

  The shrill of my alarm clock jolted me from the deepest sleep I’ve had in months.

  I fell to my floor in a heap of blankets, wrapped up like a burrito. I tried in vain to reach for the loud object that became the bane of my existence the second it went off.

  After one more kick at the blankets, I finally freed myself enough to smack my hand down on the clock. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The sound of cars honking and people milling about the streets below, filtered together through my bedroom’s cracked window. I could smell the Italian food being cooked in the restaurant across the street and it made me want to throw up. I blamed my roommate and best friend since middle school, Hannah Crowe, for that. She liked binge drinking Moscato after another successful fashion show.

  Hannah was a fashion designer, and a damn good one at that. We both grew up in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania and graduated from Penn State. While she graduated for excellent taste in clothes, I continued to work my ass off in school, until finally getting my Bachelor’s Degree in English Literature. She moved to Chicago to work for a major fashion corporation right after graduation, and I stayed back home to finish my schooling and start my career as an author.

  I published two New York Times Bestselling romance novels within my first three years of writing and I’d written several children’s books alongside the lesser known of my novels. But after my nasty break-up with my ex-cheating-fiancé, my writing began going downhill. It got to the point my last publishing company dropped me. That was why I ended up moving out here to Chicago, to be with Hannah and to start with a new publishing company, while also gaining a new perspective. Though to be honest, the only new perspective I was getting wasn’t all that great. It consisted of a brick wall that faced my bedroom window, a not so delightful view of a three-hundred-pound man across the road that liked watching TV in his underwear, and pigeons shitting on my azaleas that I’d planted.

  Chicago wasn’t a terrible place to live, but it had its downfalls. Besides what was mentioned; rent was expensive, traffic was a nightmare, and crime rates were through the roof. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a sacrifice I made to be closer to Hannah. And of course, to get away from Matthew Eubanks – my dreaded ex.

  This new publishing company was a bit more demanding. It was run by a woman named Lena Tanner, who I’d heard was the best of the best. If you could publish a book through her, you were set. I’d sent her the last book I’d finished right after I was dropped from my previous company, and she surprisingly liked it, but wanted something more. I would get one chance with her. I couldn’t mess it up.

  I missed my dad back home, but he understood why I left and called often. He had my step-mom there, so at least he wasn’t completely alone. Lindsay was nice, but she and I never became that close. My mom passed away from cancer when I was twelve, and my dad married Lindsay when I was fifteen. She had no kids of her own, and I was an only child. Hannah filled the role of sibling.

  “Daisy! Get your butt up! I have coffee and aspirin!”

  Speak of the devil.

  I pulled myself up off the floor and shuffled my way out of my room, breathing in the bittersweet aroma of caffeine.

  “Morning,” I yawned out and stretched as I entered the kitchen.

  “Ha! You look about as awful as I feel. Here ya go, honey. Liquid heaven,” Hannah said, sliding my favorite ‘No coffee, no workee’ mug to me across the kitchen island.

  “I both love you and hate you right now,” I groused at her before chugging a huge gulp.

  “Meh. What else is new?” She shrugged.

  It was aggravating how put together she was, even as hungover as I was.

  Her light blonde hair was in a perfect asymmetrical bob with not a single hair of it out of place. Her makeup was light, yet perfectly applied, and she was dressed to the nines in one of her cute winter outfits, ready to face the coming chill of fall. I really hated her ability to look human at this ungodly hour.

  “Got anything going on today?” I asked, checking the weather and emails on my phone.

  “Nope! Just working on some sketches for the spring/summer line we have coming out this year. The fall/winter line was a hit and my boss is letting me take lead with some of the designs.”

  I looked up at her with a smile. “That’s amazing, Han! It’s about time! I can’t wait to see the sketches come to life.” I was truly proud of her. She’d had two of her own designs in the show last night, and apparently, they were the biggest hits, so her boss was letting her play a bigger role for the next show.

  “Thank you! I’m really excited. I’ll send you pictures of some of the outfits getting made later,” she placed her hand on mine. “Try and get out today. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been able to write, but you’re too good to waste away in this apartment.”

  I squeezed her hand and pulled it away, running it in agitation through my hair. “Yeah. I know. I started writing another romance novel, but it just fell flat. Deleted all three of the pages I managed to get out.” I smacked my head down on the table with a loud thunk! “Why can’t I word?” I asked glumly.

  “Sweetie, sweetie, no hitting your head,” she said, placing her hand in between my head and the counter. “You’ll damage all the goods. Maybe you need a vacation?”

  I lifted my head and raised a brow at her in d
isbelief. “A vacation? Hannah, I don’t work other than writing. My life is practically an endless vacation minus the beach and a margarita.”

  “And the men. You need hot men on vacation,” she added.

  “Nu uh,” I shook my finger at her. “Not getting into this again. I’m not ready!”

  Hannah laughed. “Daisy, it’s been almost a year since you caught Matthew cheating. You’ve been on several dates since then, and I bet, I know a few people I could hook you up with!”

  “Hannah, those dates were awful, and I barely made it through them without accidentally talking about Matthew and then crying into my appetizer. I mean, I dated him all senior year of high school and we were only a week from getting married after being together for six years. That’s not something you just suddenly get over.”

  “True. But it should be freeing! He was an asshole to you a lot of the time and was a selfish snob. He downgraded when he cheated on you with that bimbo and her dragon nails.”

  I shivered in disgust and shook my head. It was hard as hell to clear the image of those creepy, claw-like nails digging into the ass of my fiancé as he jackhammered her against his desk. I’d only just finally gotten it out of my head and she just had to bring them back up.

  “You had to mention the nails,” I sighed, getting up and rummaging in the cabinets for my Lucky Charms. I needed a big dose of sugar with my caffeine today. Hopefully, the reminder of those scary things wouldn’t continue searing my brain and I’d fall into a sugar coma.

  “Sorry. But, seriously. It’s time to move on, cupcake. You are better off without him. Like I said, I have plenty of guys to hook you up with.”

  I raised a brow at her as I poured milk into my bowl. “Oh yeah? Like who?” I couldn’t wait to hear about what awesome loser she would throw at me this time. They only got worse every time she set up a new date. I’d learned to stop going on them. It was a hazard to my health at this stage.

  She thought for a minute then snapped her fingers. “Terry! That cute pharmaceutical representative!”

  I closed the fridge and sat down with my cereal, giving her an ‘are you serious?’ face. “The one who calls himself pretty every time he checks himself out and named his BMW after Paula Abdul? No thanks.”

  She made a face. “Yeah. He did seem a little too obsessed with his car and himself. Oh! What about Richard the accountant?”

  “He not-so-subtly picks his nose, Hannah. I can’t in good conscience roll with that. I learned that when I went on that date you set up between us three months ago, remember?” Richard had been the last straw. I almost swore off dating men the rest of my life after that one.

  “Crap!” She smacked her hand on the table. “You’re right. Maybe I do have horrid taste in men when it comes to you.” She looked down at her watch. “Shit on a stick! I’m going to be late for work!”

  She grabbed her purse off the hook next to the fridge and quickly hugged me to her side. “I’ll think of someone or something while I’m there, I promise! Just go to the park, take a walk in the mall, or something. Get out of here.”

  “Sure. I’ll just pick up a bag of birdseed on my way and sit next to the crazy pigeon lady while I’m at it,” I deadpanned as I waved her off.

  “Great! Do that! Love you!” She was out the door in a flash, clearly not exactly hearing what I’d said.

  I shook my head and laughed, finishing off my coffee and pouring myself some more. I popped a couple of aspirin in my mouth and continued to think about what she said as I finished my breakfast.

  Maybe she was right. Some fresh air might do me some good. At least the weather was cooling down. I’ve always written better when curled up with hot coffee and some comfy winter clothes. I attributed that to when I wrote stories as a little girl in my mother’s lap. She was a writer like me, but she did poetry.

  Every time the weather started to cool down with the early signs of winter, it was our nightly routine to sit together on the front porch, curled up in a blanket, reading or writing together. Sometimes we would drink hot cocoa and she would sing to me about the moon and stars, swinging away on the bench swing. I still hummed sometimes to myself as I wrote. The melodies she had sung were calming to my soul.

  It shattered my world when she died. She was my best friend and my rock. Adjusting to life without her was tough, but me and my dad made it through together. Lindsay was a saving grace for him. She made him smile again and picked up some of those pieces he’d been missing. She stepped up and gave me the motherly figure I needed as I went through my teens. Dad had no clue how to explain womanhood to me, so having Lindsay was a reprieve. Though, no one would ever replace my mom in our hearts. Dad and I go to her grave on her birthday to leave some daisies for her. It’s our way of remembering her. They were my mom’s favorite flower and my namesake.

  Years have passed, but I still thought of mom every day. For her, I tried to be the best version of myself I could be. I just hoped with all these setbacks in my life, she continued to look down at me with pride.

  I finished my cereal and put my bowl in the sink, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to get out for a while. I quickly dressed in a grey, tunic shirt and black leggings, throwing a thin scarf around my neck and slipping into my suede boots. I checked myself over in the mirror and grimaced.

  My waves of light brown hair were a wild mess and probably wouldn’t brush out easily. I loved the rich color of my hair, but the waves I could live without. I didn’t think I was ugly, but I looked a bit plain. My hazel green eyes were dull, having lost the brightness that used to spark behind them during a time when I was happier. I had a splash of light freckles across my button nose and cheeks that I inherited from my dad. But my plump lips and lithe, dancer’s body, I got from my mom. I was barely five-foot-six in height, so you’d think I’d be graceful as a swan. But, sadly no. I was born with the grace of a hippo. Hannah continually made fun of me for being a klutz.

  I grumbled under my breath at my appearance then threw my hair up in a messy bun. It was just the park. There was no need to look pristine there anyway.

  I grabbed my keys and phone, locking the door behind me and starting the trek to the local coffee shop. I was addicted to coffee and Hannah always made it so weak. An espresso boost would put some pep in my step today.

  I quickly got my usual hazelnut mocha, but added a dash of peppermint since the cold weather flavors were now making their comeback for the year. I averted my eyes from the Cloud Gate structure as I passed it. Having a large mirror in the shape of a peanut distorting my image wasn’t going to do a thing for my self-esteem this morning.

  I finally made it to one of my favorite spots; The Millennium Monument. It was basically a massive replica semicircle of Greek columns. It had a large fountain in front of it that I tossed coins into to make a wish every now and then. I wasn’t sure if we were really allowed to do that, but I did it anyways. Chicago was a crowded city. Here however, I felt like I was in another world. As I sat and people watched, I realized all I ever did when I came here was wish to be someone else. For life to be more fairytale than the reality that it was. I wanted more out of life than what I had, and I wasn’t sure if that was selfish of me.

  I was healthy. I was a success author. Well, I had been a success author. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, an amazing dad, and the most amazing best friend anyone could ask for.

  So why did I wish for more?

  I didn’t mind being alone. I was getting used to it, really. Matthew may have been there for so many years, but I realized after the break up, that he wasn’t always present. I missed the signs that I was no longer what he wanted. That maybe he was no longer what I needed. I wanted a love like my parents.

  Mom was Dad’s universe. They fell instantly in love at the ages of twenty-two. Only two years younger than I was at this moment. They were in college and mom bumped into him, spilling her lunch all over him and both of their books. Instead of being upset, Dad had laughed so hard he fell over. Mom was
completely confused by his reaction, but soon joined in with him. They ended up skipping their classes and talking non-stop the rest of the day. Dad knew he loved mom the second he saw her horrified face. Mom knew she loved Dad the moment he went into hysterics.

  They were inseparable after that. They got married and had me, all within a year of that moment. They were one person on every level, even though they were completely opposite in every way.

  I wanted that.

  I hadn’t had that with Matthew, and I knew it.

  Chirp! Chirp!

  My phone alerted me to a text and pulled me out of my thoughts. I maneuvered it from my pocket and saw it was a text from none other than the asshole himself.

  Matthew: I’ve been thinking about you.

  Oh, hell no! I immediately deleted the message, not even bothering to reply. He was now engaged to the very woman he cheated on me with, from what his social media profiles said. I had snooped for the first six months after our break up, and ended up blocking him completely from mine the moment I saw the relationship status update. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to message me!

  I quickly typed out a message to Hannah.

  Me: You’ll never guess who just messaged me that he missed me…

  Three … two … one … I counted down.

  Hannah: NO DAMN WAY!! Don’t you answer that, Daisy Mae Lennox!

  I laughed. Yeah right!

  Me: Don’t worry, I’m not. But seriously? Why now?

  Her response took a few extra minutes, but I was surprised by the reply.