Lovely Pink
Raine Miller
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2021 Raine Miller Romance
All rights reserved.
Cover Design: Letitia Hasser
Cover Image: Sara Eirew
Editing: CC Readings
Proofreading: Proofing With Style
Contents
LOVELY PINK
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
A Request
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Crossover Book
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About the Author
Also by Raine Miller
LOVELY PINK by Raine Miller
The politics of love are brutal.
Yes. They. Are.
But it doesn't really matter either way because this plan was set in stone a long time ago by the ones who hold all the power.
Reese Pinkarver and Grayson T. Lash III will marry and merge the political dynasties of the honorable presidential legacies they were born into. A destiny so much bigger than the both of us. With all the rewards that come with it…to the tune of a billion-dollar trust fund.
And I am here for all of it. All in.
I know who I want to spend my life with. Who I want to have babies with. Who I want beside me as I make my way with carrying on the legacy of our names.
My Lovely Pink.
All I have to do is convince her it's what she wants too.
*LOVELY PINK is a STANDALONE novella.
*Originally published as CAPITOL SOUTH in the limited release anthology collection,
Love In Transit.
The best way to predict the future is to create it.
Abraham Lincoln
Chapter One REESE
October
Washington, DC
A red shirt with the Netflix logo taped in place, and a fake bag of ice.
How very clever.
I wish I could’ve thought of such a brilliantly simple idea before I decided to put on what I’m wearing right now.
To be clear, that would be wearing, while riding the DC Metro to my selected destination for the evening on the busy Saturday of Halloween weekend.
I tried not to pout over how much more I would’ve enjoyed a nice, safe dose of Netflix & Chill with Horatio curled up in my lap instead of going out tonight, but I promised my friends from work I would come. So, I’m on my way to a Halloween party. Make that a “costume required” Halloween party.
Bleh.
I guess I sort of blend in, considering Mr. Netflix & Chill and I aren’t the only ones wearing costumes on the subway tonight.
There’s a guy rocking a lavender unicorn suit, complete with sparkly rainbow tail and twisty horn, who just gave me and my dress the sideways-eye. Heyyyy, like you’re in a position to judge me, Fluffy. His buddy, Suicide Squad Joker sporting some painfully green hair, leans in and snickers at something Fluffy just whispered in his ear, most likely about me and my dress. Yeah, and you’re no Jared Leto, you ass. Good luck with that green hair in about a week from now.
Sometimes I hate people.
A drop of sweat rolls down my back as the interior of the train car starts to feel chokingly claustrophobic.
Slow breath, Reese.
Like my choice of costume tonight was something that wouldn’t attract at least a passing response.
Riiiiight.
I’m an idiot. And while I won’t argue the validity of that point, I am also a magnet for unwanted attention regardless of whatever I do or don’t do. This is reality when your last name is Pinkarver, and you can trace your lineage—in a solid direct line mind you—to a beloved POTUS. My great-great-grandfather served his term nearly a century ago, but the name Pinkarver is still considered political royalty in this town. Right alongside Kennedy and Roosevelt. Others in my family have served in Congress, the Senate, and as governor of two different states of the union. All of this information is written down for posterity, my name in textbooks used in fifth grade Social Studies, all the way up to US History 101 at college campuses everywhere.
Legitimate stuff.
Unlike me.
My day started off for shit, and it hasn’t gotten any better as the sun made its path across the sky. I’d pretty much written it off for any improvement at this point.
My big toe throbbed behind the heels I was wearing, still protesting the unfortunate smashing of it into the nightstand earlier this morning. The headache I’d battled for most of the day was giving me every indication that it wasn’t quite finished with me yet. At least I knew why the headache. A lack of caffeine was the culprit there. Zeke’s Brew House got shut down for health code violations (plural) and I’d been running too late to go somewhere else.
So, I guess I’ll be finding a new place to get my coffee from now on.
The weird message from my mother last night wasn’t helping, either. Something about my inheritance coming due with my twenty-fifth birthday, which was just two months from now. I didn’t know anything about an inheritance for when I turned twenty-five. She’d never mentioned it before, so I was a little lost on the topic. My mom currently lives in Japan with her third husband who serves as the US Ambassador to Sapporo, so the time difference usually has us playing phone tag for a bit before we can connect.
Yeah, make that very weird. My whole family situation is weird, though. It’s been weird from the very beginning.
My grandfather, Theodore Pinkarver, had already raised three daughters before his only son was born to wife number two. Theodore Junior—my very beloved and
