Authors: Jackie Pilossoph
“Jackie Pilossoph is the kind of author who epitomizes accessibility and ‘girl next door,’ and this translates into the well-rounded, warm-hearted and inspiring novel,
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Ms. Pilossoph allows her characters to simply be who they are, without judgment, which results in the reader being able to appreciate them for their imperfections. At the heart of this wonderfully written novel is a story about the powerful relationships women develop with their female family and friends. What I truly loved about this novel is the inspiring message. I simply could not put the book down.”
–KATHRYN HAMILTON, CHICK LIT CENTRAL
“This is a novel that anyone with a sister or mother should read. It shows how a family, even when being put through trials, can and should stick together. The laughs and tears shared are truly uplifting.”
CHARLOTTE LYNN, A NOVEL REVIEW
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For information address: [email protected]
Hello Number 3!
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is my third novel and I can’t even begin to tell you how much I enjoyed writing this book!
Getting back into the dating scene at 41 years old was a trip, and that’s where the idea for this novel came from.
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is fiction, but it is VERY LOOSELY based on events that happened to myself and my friends as we struggled through the nightmare world of dating in our forties. So, the first people I would like to thank are the men who gave me the material needed to light the fire and make this book laugh out loud hilarious, sexy, heartfelt and meaningful. More specifically, thank you to the guys who inspired me to create Preston, Luke, Denny and all the Matts!
I’d also like to thank my sister, Sue, (the smart one). Although Laura is very different from Sue, and again, all of the events in this book are fictitious, bits and pieces of my sister can be seen through sweet, kind, generous Laura, and her caring, selfless nature when it comes to her sister, Emma, just like my sister is always there for me when things get rough.
Other people I’d like to thank include those who gave me feedback and helped make
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a better book: My LA based manager for Jackpot!, Kathy Muraviov, (and her sister Karen!), Wendy Sherman, Christine Salah, Lynn Bruno, Liz Becker, Rachel Rosenberg, Jackie Langas, Marcy Pettersen, Dina Silver, Kristin Portolese, Melissa Uhlig, Susan Freund, Monni McCleary, Michell Galin, Erin Niumata and Jennifer Devine.
Thank you to all the women who gave me your salsa recipes! Thank you to Mia McNary, who created my fleuron (the little makeup brush that begins each chapter.) So cute! I would also like to thank my editor, Marc Alberts from the Pioneer Press, and all of my clients/editors who have included my work in their publications. And thank you to Beth Engelman for getting me the job at the Pioneer Press! Thank you to all of the women who support me every day, including all the members of EPWNG, and all the women who had me at their book clubs this year. Thanks for reading my books, offering to help in any way you can, and giving me words that motivate me to keep working and striving to be the best author and writer I can be.
I’d also like to mention my dear, sweet friend Susan Palkovic, who had a really really rough year this year (to say the least) and handled it with courage, immense strength, grace and lots of humor. Love you lots Susan! You inspire me to no end.
As always, thank you to my mom, Frieda and my dad, Zack, who call me every day to find out my book numbers (and other exciting news I might have), my siblings, Billy, Vicki, Sue, Robin, Andrew, my nieces and nephews, Ali, Zack, Sara, Jamie, Gena, and Jada, and my boyfriend, Mark. Thanks for being such a great family! And last but definitely not least, to my angels, Isaac and Anna, I love you more and more each and every day as you grow, and I’m so proud of you.
I am truly blessed with all my Free Gifts!
This book is dedicated to sisters, especially mine, Sue, Vicki and Robin. Love you guys!
Copyright © 2012 Jackie Pilossoph
All rights reserved.
ISBN 13: 9781475217315
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62345-573-6
e there in 5,” I texted Laura when I got to the intersection of Willow Road and the Eden’s expressway, which was approximately that many minutes away from her posh Wilmette brick colonial, a home for which I believe she paid $2.4 million, fifteen years earlier.
Laura didn’t text back, which wasn’t surprising. That wasn’t my older sister’s style. The way she lived her life, she couldn’t find time to go to the bathroom, let alone answer a text with a quick response like “ok.”
The woman was an orthopedic surgeon, mother to my eighteen year-old niece, Audrey, and wife to my extremely high-maintenance brother-in-law, who just to give you an example, liked freshly squeezed orange juice, meaning he requested that Laura squeeze actual oranges every morning. Then there was the endless volunteering, not to mention the dozens of committees on which my sister served. To say she had limited free time was putting it mildly.
Today was a rare occasion. Laura decided to forego her yoga class and instead use the one free hour she had in her day to let me take her to lunch for her birthday. This wasn’t the actual day. Laura had turned forty-four almost three weeks earlier, but this was her first available time slot to celebrate, and if it was up to her, just like her husband and her daughter, she would have done nothing to acknowledge it, which is why I pushed her into having lunch.
I pulled up to the mansion and texted, “I’m here.” Then I turned up the Bruce Springsteen CD that was playing in my Lexus RX 350 and sang
at the top of my lungs. And I waited. And waited some more. When the song was over, I shut the ignition off, got out of the car and entered the house through the unlocked front door. Wilmette was so high-class and so upscale that Laura often left her front door unlocked. To be fearful of a burglar in her neighborhood was borderline ridiculous.
I was convinced that the reason my sister didn’t respond to my second text was that she was upstairs, standing in front of the mirror in her huge walk-in closet, talking herself out of the fourth shirt she tried on. My sister, who had been labeled as a genius by our parents at age five, had absolutely zero self-confidence when it came to the way she perceived her physical appearance. I think because she had been told by our mom and dad, along with everyone else in the community how smart she was all her life, she assumed she had nothing to offer when it came to her looks.
Ironically, her petite figure was close to perfect, and her face was beautiful. Still, no matter how many compliments she received from people, and no matter how much she was constantly hearing she looked exactly like Eva Longoria, Laura refused to let herself see how physically attractive she really was.
I walked into the house and headed for the stairs. What’s so strange about what happened next is that for some odd reason, I never even thought to call out her name. It never occurred to me to let her know I was in her home. If I had shouted, “Laura? It’s me. Are you upstairs?” the course of events that took place would have happened quite a bit differently. But I didn’t shout out my sister’s name. I stayed silent. And no one in the house knew I was there.
My right foot was on the first step of the wooden staircase and my hand was on the banister when I heard a sound that made my heart stop and made me cringe at the same time. A woman was moaning.
“Oh Alan, you’re so hot,” I heard next. Confusion set in. I instantly knew someone was having sex, but did Laura actually sound like this? My gut said no way, given the fact that my sister would never say Alan was hot (nor would anyone else I knew, for that matter) which is why I tiptoed off the step and made my way to the entryway of the kitchen. When my eyes made contact with the sight that would change many lives forever, I gasped so loudly I was shocked the couple didn’t hear me.
There was Alan, my brother-in-law of twenty-two years, butt naked, leaning over the kitchen counter, his big white butt staring me in the face like a deer in headlights. Yup, there was my brother-in-law, the guy who I’d always treated just like my own brother, the nice young lawyer who called me for my sister’s ring size before buying her engagement ring, the caring son-in-law who sat at the hospital with us when my father had hip surgery, and the friend who offered his shoulder for me to cry on so many times.
My brother-in-law was now the guy whose ass was currently staring me in the face, traumatizing me not only by seeing someone in the act of sex, but by unknowingly revealing his slimy indiscretions. In front of the cheater was a woman, and the only things I could see were her humungous knockers bouncing around, and big pieces of her bleached blonde hair swaying from side to side. It was almost surreal. How could this be happening? Why wasn’t this jerk where he was supposed to be right now, working in his downtown law office?