Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Emily: Sex & Sensibility by Sandra Marton

I got this book for free on amazon. Emily's family is wealthy but she wants to make it on her own. But when she gets a job at a museum in NYC, the curator thinks she has money so he offers her a salary that she could not live on.  So she decides to drop her last name. Emily ends up playing piano at a seamy bar. It is barely enough to live on. But one night a drunk patron argues with her and dumps a beer on her and she gets angry and douses him with the rest of the beer. She gets fired. The owner refuses to gives her the money she is entitled to. She leaves without her coat and her tips. AND it's raining. She looks like a drowned rat!
A limo splashes her with water as it drives by. A man, Marco Santini, gets out and offers her a ride. But she is afraid. Eventually she does get a ride and he takes her home and gives her the kiss of a lifetime! The next day he leaves a message on her machine about a job offer to play the piano for one night at a building opening. She goes to his office building and applies for that job. But the HR woman offers her a position as Marco's assistant. He misunderstands and starts kissing Emily when she enters his office. Boy, that is some attraction they have going on. But she really needs a job.
They begin a relationship and Marco misunderstands about her past. He thinks she is poor. Everytime she tries to explain he shuts her down. What will happen when he finds out that she is not a poor little waif?

I liked this story a lot. The characters were well written. I really felt their chemistry.

From the author:
The Wilde Sisters, Book 1
Emily Wilde has led a privileged life. Now she’s trying to make it on her own in Manhattan.
Marco Santini grew up dirt poor in a Sicilian slum. Now he has everything. He’s gorgeous. He’s rich. He’s powerful. And he has all the beautiful women a man could ask for.
Then, one rainy night, he sees a woman standing alone on a deserted New York street corner. Emily is clearly in need of help, but she’s not foolish enough to step into Marco’s chauffeured Mercedes. It takes a lot of convincing before she lets him take her to her apartment. He swears he’s not going to do anything he shouldn’t and he means it–but she’s in his arms before they can stop themselves.
Still, it’s only a kiss, just one kiss in a moment torn out of time. That’s what they both think.
But Fate has other plans, starting with an unexpected job offer and a business trip to Paris that explodes in a passion so hot it will change everything—everything but the web of lies that traps them both.

It was Saturday night at the Tune-In Café and the only person inside its dingy walls who wasn’t drunk was seriously starting to wish that she were.
Unless you’d had a couple of beers too many, it was hard to endure the raucous laughter and the sharp stench of whiskey. Add in the 1950s décor and the sticky wooden floor and the only thing Emily Wilde—whoops, Emily thought quickly, Emily Madison—wanted was to Tune Out.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.
Emily sighed as her fingers flew over the yellowed keys of a battered upright piano.
She worked here.
There wasn’t a way in hell she’d have been in the place otherwise. She was the entertainment Thursdays through Sundays and sometimes she still couldn’t get her head around that fact. How could she when she’d come east two years ago so she could become a world-class curator at a world-class museum or, at the very least, the buyer for a prestigious art gallery?
Amazing that she’d never stopped to consider that the New York art world had not been holding its breath, just waiting for a twenty-four-year-old Texan with a degree in Mayan pottery.
Talk about planning ahead…
“Right,” Emily muttered as she swung into the cheesiest possible arrangement of yet another cheesiest possible tune.
Planning was the problem. Or not planning. In a family of planners, she was the one who would just sort of let life pick her up and carry her along.
The rest of them had dropped from the womb, perfectly organized.
Her father, four-star General John Hamilton Wilde. Her brothers: Jacob, who managed El Sueño, the family ranch; Caleb, who headed an elite law firm; Travis, who worked his magic as a financial investor. Even her sisters were on the path to success, Jaimie as a real estate agent with a prestigious international firm, Lissa as a Hollywood chef.
The only Wilde who lay awake nights trying to figure out where she was headed, how she was going to get there and, toughest of all, how she was going to pay the bills en route was the youngest.
“Me,” Emily mumbled.
Except, of course, nobody in New York knew she was a Wilde.
Emily had dropped her last name more than a year ago. She’d done it in desperation after she’d realized that, for the first time in her life, being a Wilde was working against her.
In retrospect, she shouldn’t have been shocked to discover that in some circles, even in the East, the name was well-known. What was a shocker was that people would assume she was some kind of dilettante who didn’t really need a job that paid a living wage…
And what was with her tonight? All of this was ancient history. Why was she reliving it?
She took a quick look at her watch.
Thank God.
It was almost midnight. Her eight-in-the-evening until two-in-the-morning stint was winding down. Soon she’d be out of the Tune-In, and since tomorrow was Monday and she didn’t have to work, she could do her usual Monday thing: call up the New York Times on her Mac to catch up with all the exciting things people were doing in Manhattan, and if she ended up in a self-induced pity fest, she could plow through the pint of Ben & Jerry’s Heath Bar Crunch she’d hidden in the back of the freezer so she wouldn’t be tempted to tuck into it too soon.
Plus, she could permit herself the luxury of wallowing in thoughts of exactly how much she hated, despised and deplored working at the Tune-In and if she’d left out a couple of verbs, it was only because she was too tired to be creative.
And, yes, she knew it was wrong to feel that way.
She should have been grateful to have a job at all. Besides, pounding the time-worn keys at the Tune-In wasn’t even the worst job she’d ever had.
That list wasn’t just long, it was depressing.
Her one job in the art world had been as a so-called associate at a pricey gallery. That had lasted until the day she’d looked a potential customer in the eye and said she didn’t have the slightest idea why anyone would pay one hundred and ninety thousand bucks for a ten-foot-by-twelve-foot canvas of green stripes on a white background.
She’d waited tables in coffee shops and delis where the question wasn’t if the boss was going to put the make on you but when.
She’d demonstrated fancy cosmetics at Bloomingdale’s and Saks and Barney’s—not too bad a gig, really, until her face said “No more” and turned into a giant crimson glob.
Still, when you came down to it, a job was just a job. A means to an end. Yes, the Tune-In was… grungy was as good a word as any. So what? This was Manhattan. You never knew when a neighborhood was going to change. The Meatpacking District had once been a place to avoid; the area around the Gowanus Canal had been a bad joke. One of these days, the Tune-In might very well be at the center of some up– and– coming real estate. Actually, the neighborhood had been pretty good years ago, until some fast-cash developer had bought up half the houses and then run out of the money he’d needed to turn them into condos, which explained why a piano bar was in this area at all.
The Tune-In was a holdover. Its customers were holdovers, too. Nobody would deliberately seek it out unless they already knew it was here.
Which was, in a way, a very good thing.

To read more, click here.

Kindle Edition232 pages
Published April 29th 2013 by Gossamer (first published April 28th 2013)

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