Know Her, Love Her: Jack & Daisy, #1 (E-Book)

LOVE in the USA - The Lords

1 - Find Her, Keep Her: A Martha's Vineyard Love Story
(Can be read as a Standalone)

2 - There's Something About Her: A Manhattan Love Story
(Can be read as a Standalone)

3 - Say You Love Her: An LA Love Story
(Can be read as a Standalone)

4 - Know Her, Love Her (Jack & Daisy, #1)
(A continuation of their story)

5 - Still In Love With Her (Maggie & Vince #1)
(A continuation of their story)

6 - He's So Bad: A San Francisco Love Story
(Robert Tango's story)

7 - Made to Love Her (Maggie & Vince, #2)
(The conclusion of their story)


8 - He's So Good (Robert & Carter)
(The conclusion of their story)

9 - Say You Love Me (Charlie & Angel)
(The conclusion of their story)

10 - Adore Her, More of Her (Jack & Daisy, #2)
(The series conclusion)

KNOW HER, LOVE HER
Chapter One
Mr. Entitled

The cold mugs me as I step out of the hotel lobby and onto the sidewalk. It’s the middle of May and forty-three degrees in downtown Chicago, a stark difference from the ninety degrees of dry heat I left in L.A. I shake off the chill and take long, fast strides up Pearson, across Michigan Avenue, up State to Grand and Clark, slowing only when halted by Don’t Walk signs. I have a lunch meeting with Dexter Frampton, an independent television producer who’s producing a show for Travel Station X, a new cable network. Everything that could go wrong this morning went wrong. I knocked over my bottle of mouthwash, and it spilled all over the floor. The dress shoes I packed don’t match. Toothpaste squirted on my dress suit, and I had to put on the outfit I flew in wearing yesterday. I’d left my cell phone in the hotel restaurant last night, but I didn’t realize it until fifteen minutes after our meeting was to start this morning. I had to rush down to the front desk to claim it.

I’m hot and sweaty when I rush into King’s Corner Bistro. 

“Welcome. How many?” the sprightly hostess sings before I reach her station.

“I’m here to meet Mr. Dexter Frampton,” I say. 

Her eyebrows crumple as though I just asked her a trick question. I wish I could offer more information, but he and I have never met.

I lift a finger. “One second.” I step away to call him.

“That would be me.” 

I look up at a man with light brown skin, piercing blue eyes, and chiseled facial features. I’m momentarily caught off guard by how attractive he is.

“Daisy Lord?” he asks.

“Um, yes.” I take my hand out of my purse and offer him a handshake. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My day got off to a rough start.”

His smile enhances his classic good looks. “No worries. Our table is this way.” 

It’s eleven thirty a.m., and the lunch crowd is arriving in droves. Our table is on the quieter side of the restaurant though. I order a seafood salad, and Dexter asks for the rib-eye steak. 

“The network has ordered four episodes. They’ll run one per week. If we get the ratings, then they’ll order six more,” Dexter says.

The waitress brings my coffee and his whiskey. He studies me as I sip my morning glory. 

“You do know that I’m a travel writer, not a TV personality?” I clarify. “I won’t be able to pull off the smiley, cheery TV host act.”

“I want the person who wrote the book, and no one else.”

“Oh, her…”

He frowns.

“It’s just that I haven’t written anything for over a year. I’m not sure…” I shake my head and look out the window. Rain beats down on the cluster of cars stopped at the red light. “If I’m still good at it.”

A lot has changed since I married Belmont and gave birth to Joella. My daughter died. She went into cardiac arrest in the hospital, and they were unable to revive her. Belmont and I went from never arguing to saying mean things to each other almost every day. He’s said that he’s tired of competing with a dead man, referring to my brother, Daniel, who was struck by a car when we were kids. He’s accused me of being unable to love anyone. I’ve said he’s controlling and he smothers me. One day, Belmont said that he should leave, and I said fine. That was four months ago. We haven’t seen each other since.

“Then why did you agree to see me?” Dexter asks.

“My agent wants me to give him permission to sell you the TV rights to my book. Initially I said no, but he convinced me to at least hear you out.”

Dexter cocks his head and inspects me. “I don’t think that’s why you came here.”

“Well, it is,” I say cynically.

“I was adamant about you hosting the show. You’re curious,” he claims. 

I shrug. “Of course I am, but I’m also sensible.”

“If you don’t mind, may I ask you a personal question?” 

“Sure.” My tone says I’m guarded.

“Are you still married to Jack Lord?”

“I am.” A knot forms in my throat. “But we’re separated.”

Dexter doesn’t look surprised. Probably everyone in the universe has read in the tabloids that billionaire Jack Lord separated from his wife. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

“Me too.” 

The moment of silence is appropriate. 

“I really want you to be our host. If anything, the audience will tune in just to look at you for an hour.” He cracks a smile. 

He doesn’t sound or look as if he’s flirting, but I think he is. “If that’s what you’re counting on to boost ratings, then you’re in trouble.” I only smoked for one year while I was in high school. I stopped after my health teacher showed us a film of what lung cancer looks like. I could sure use a cigarette right now.

Dexter laughs. “Come on, Daisy. I’ve heard that you’re adventurous. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll make this a pleasant experience for you.”

“You’ve heard I was adventurous?”

“It’s in every page of your book.”

We grin at each other as the waitress puts our plates in front of us. My salad smells so good. I’m starving because I missed breakfast. Yet another thing that went wrong this morning.

“How long will it take to shoot the first four episodes?” I ask, digging into my food. 

Dexter explains how they plan to feature domestic destinations like the Florida Keys, the states of Vermont and Rhode Island, and wrap in Chicago. The starting budget is small, but they’ll go international if they’re picked up for a full season. They want me to help write and produce the segments as well as host them.

“How about La Côte d'Azur?” I suggest.

“Ah, the French Riviera.”

“Yes, but you can start in Barcelona, Spain, and end in Genoa, Italy. I could make it economical and interesting. I don’t think many Americans know how easy and safe it is to vacation along the blue coast. The articles I wrote on that region weren’t part of the taxicab series—”

“Because you took trains, busses, and rented cars,” Dexter finishes my sentence as if I’d quizzed him.

I crack a smile. “You’re trying to impress me?”

He tosses his head back and lets out a quiet laugh. “Is it working?”

I chuckle. “Maybe. But you never said how long it will take to shoot four episodes.”

“About two months. If you can come up with a proposal and shooting schedule that won’t break our budget, then maybe we can do Europe in, say, three months?”

I gaze across the room to ponder. I don’t expect to see anything interesting, but a familiar set of eyes meets mine.

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