So It Goes (Twist of Fate #2) Read Online Jennifer Probst

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Twist of Fate Series by Jennifer Probst

Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)

Two people with little in common but business give pleasure a shot in a charming romance about fate and taking chances by New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst.
The truth? Lonely advertising rep Malia Evergreen is still waiting for a soul mate, marriage, and a family. The lie? Telling every busybody she knows that she’s met someone. Now it’s a matter of finding him. Malia needs a date for a wedding. In a pinch she strikes a bargain with her former client, CEO Palmer Matterson—an arrogant, defiantly single, alpha billionaire whose best quality is insincerity. The perfect fake date.
Palmer has wanted Malia from the first moment he saw her. A challenging, sexy career woman who knows what she wants. It’s just not him. Not yet, anyway. This is Palmer’s chance to win her heart.
As fate throws them together, Malia unravels the layers of the man she thought she knew and, against the odds, finds herself falling in love. Palmer’s falling too. If only they can convince each other what they share…a belief in a happy ever after.


Know your own happiness.

—Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

Chapter One

Malia Evergreen walked into the office of her least favorite client and swore not to lose her temper.

Not today.

It had been a perfect morning. After a solid night’s sleep, she’d managed to snatch the last croissant at her favorite bakery and the first cup of a fresh pot of Colombian coffee. She sailed over the Mario Cuomo Bridge on her way to Manhattan without the usual congested traffic. The sun shone bright in a cloudless baby-blue sky with no threat of rain. And she wore her favorite suit—a well-tailored candy-apple-red Vera Wang that screamed BOSS. Even her hair turned out perfectly, the multiple braided strands falling straight down her back.

Mr. Hot Billionaire couldn’t even screw this up for her.

Malia nodded at Cassandra, his adept administrative assistant, and was waved immediately in. After a full year of meeting with him every other Thursday at 10:00 a.m. sharp, Malia was aware of each detail of the routine. In the beginning, she’d been confused why the CEO and owner of the multimillion-dollar wedding empire would choose to meet personally with an advertising representative. God knew he had a ton of minions to run the lower-level marketing.

She’d learned the answer quickly and wished she never had.

Because he was a control freak who loved to involve himself in all aspects of his company. He also seemed to enjoy torturing her for his individual amusement, as if it kicked off his early weekend entertainment.

Not for much longer, though.

Satisfaction curled through her. She couldn’t wait to make the announcement.

Malia pasted a smile on her lips and breezed through the half-open door. “Morning,” she said, moving toward her regular seat at the conference table.

Her gaze swept over Emeril, his assistant, and Andrea, the creative director, flanking the head of the table like knights to a king. The two complemented each other nicely, both sharply dressed, keenly intelligent, and eager to do their king’s bidding. Emeril held a tightly bound energy in his body that made Malia wonder if he injected caffeine directly into his veins. Tall and thin, with dark hair and sharp features, he was a multitasking genius who tapped endlessly on his phone while engaging in dialogue and answering questions from his boss. Andrea was calm, with a short blonde bob, cat-eye glasses, and a tendency to dress in classic black pantsuits. For a creative leader, her appearance and personality seemed plain at first, but Malia now respected the hell out of her ideas and laser-like focus to launch dynamic ad creatives for the company.

They exchanged casual talk as Malia flipped open her laptop and got situated. When the clock on her screen switched to 10:00 a.m., Andrea and Emeril looked up expectantly.

Malia refused.

The door clicked shut quietly and footsteps softly echoed. The scrape of the chair and the creak of leather as he settled rose to her ears. The scent of clove and spice wafted in the air. Immediately, her skin prickled and a hot awareness shot through her body—the exact reaction she’d been experiencing steadily since the day they met.

It was a secret she’d never confess. Not even if she were tortured.

“Good morning, Ms. Evergreen.”

The deep, rumbly voice shot to all the hidden corners of her body and stroked. Fighting the horrid physical response, she finally looked up and met Palmer Matterson’s stare. His sea-green eyes drilled into hers and lingered, as if it were his right to see all of her.

Primal arrogance seethed from his very core. He knew he attracted women like he was a giant chocolate bar and they were gripped by PMS. That thick mane of gray hair was his calling card, falling over his forehead and brushing his collar with just a touch of unruliness. His features were pure aristocracy: the sharp blade of his nose, the curl of his full lips, the defined cut jawline. He wore his fancy Armani suits like they were casual denim, the fabric tailored to emphasize the lean, muscled length of his thighs and ass, the jacket stretching over his broad shoulders. He was a man who ran a female-centered business, surrounded by endless wedding couples and selling the promise of happily ever after. Yet, there didn’t seem to be a soft bone in his body or heart. It was a puzzle she’d been trying to solve for a year but was no closer to figuring out.