Blog Tour: Beautiful Little Fool by K.K. Hendin







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Eighty seven billion dollars.
One dead New York business mogul.
No heirs.
No wives.
No relatives.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
Not hers yet.
He doesnt deserve them.
He doesnt know what to do with them.
She does.
She always has.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
Hes overwhelmed.
Shes prepared.
That will should have had her name.
Not his.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
His looks are a bonus.
Her looks are her weapon.
Hes fighting a losing battle against his heart.
He doesnt know it yet.
Eighty seven billion dollars.
She gets everything she wants.
Hes what she wants.
Love has nothing to do with it.
To get to where youre going, sometimes you need to step on a few people to get there.
Good thing her heels are sharp.

What was in the will? It was driving Cedar crazy, even though she would never, ever admit to it. The day at work had flown by—between the interview, meetings, and her and Cecil calling and calling and calling to arrange the biggest goddamn show of a funeral that New York had ever seen. And through the whole day, all Cedar thought about was the will.

He probably left money to his housekeepers, they had kept their mouths shut through a hell of a lot of the shit that comes along when you have more money than God. And just because he was dead, it didn’t mean he wanted anyone writing any tell-alls about working for him. Harold Feingold on paper was a saint, and nobody who worked for him was going to be the one to change that. Mr. Morris was hired for life, and he was hired to make sure nobody decided that Harold Feingold’s death would be a good reason to talk about what actually happened in the house. 

Money to… who else? Cedar had no idea. Maybe some to charities, just so people wouldn’t talk. Some for the gallery, even though it had been earning its costs since Cedar had opened it. 

But the bulk of it, she had not a fucking clue.

Cedar stripped in her bedroom, and walked to the connecting bathroom. The bathtub was already full, and she stepped in slowly, sinking into the bubbling foam. A glass of wine was on a tray, along with her vibrator, cucumber slices, and an eye mask. Her housekeeper had left a few minutes before, and Cedar was blessedly alone in her house. She was free for the evening, something she hadn’t planned on. But Harold’s death was more important than the party she was supposed to be going to tonight, and she had to show that.

She was going to soak in the bath until her skin pruned, she was going to drink wine, and she was not going to answer her phone at all. She could say it was because she was so upset about Harold’s death, but really, it wasn’t. He was old, and old people died. It was upsetting, yes, but not as upsetting as she made it out to be.

If she didn’t inherit at least a large share of his estate, she was going to be upset.

Upset was going to be the mildest word to describe how she would feel.

Cedar was twenty six years old, and had been close to Harold since the day she turned eighteen. Eight years of being his protégé and of being the only sort of confidant he had should be more than enough to inherit.

She sank back into the bubbles, but not enough to get her hair wet. She was going to relax for now. She could worry about everything later. She had time.


KKHendin 

KK Hendin's Bio: KK Hendin’s real life ambition is to become a pink fluffy unicorn who dances with rainbows. But the schooling for that is all sorts of complicated, so until that gets sorted out, she’ll just write. Preferably things with angst and love. And things that require chocolate. KK spends way too much time on Twitter (where she can be found as @kkhendin), and rambles on occasion over at www.kkhendinwrites.blogspot.com.

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