Better as a Memory

By Marilyn Baxter

Looking at her potential client, Atlanta image consultant Victoria Sharpe is convinced the job will be a cross between What Not to Wear and Man vs. Wild. She’d love to turn down the offer, but refusing it—not to mention the referrals it could generate—just might break the bank. Yet, agreeing to make over this man’s image might also break her heart. Again.

Max Brown will tolerate anything to gain access to his trust fund. Returning to work in the family business, even submitting to his mother’s demands to trade his comfortable flannel for Armani is worthwhile if he can get the money necessary to start a camp for at-risk boys. But then he sees he’ll be working with Victoria Sharpe, his college girlfriend, the one who got away. Or, really, the one he left. The impression he makes here will be the most important of his life, and the person most as risk is himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: May 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781941260173

Book preview

BETTER AS A MEMORY

Marilyn Baxter

Copyright 2014 Marilyn L. Puett

Smashwords Edition

Engaging and emotional, this reunion romance hit every high note for me and captured my heart.

—Roxanne St. Claire, New York Times Best-selling Author

"Marilyn Baxter threads a richly-layered tale of reawakened love and second chances. This sensuous story will touch your heart like a luxurious garment, warming you all over. For a sweet read that you’ll want to savor again and again, I highly recommend Better as a Memory."

—Award- winning author Cara Marsi.

SECOND IMPRESSIONS

Looking at her potential client, Atlanta image consultant Victoria Sharpe is convinced the job will be a cross between What Not to Wear and Man vs. Wild. She’d love to turn down the offer, but refusing it—not to mention the referrals it could generate—just might break the bank. Yet, agreeing to make over this man’s image might also break her heart. Again.

Max Brown will tolerate anything to gain access to his trust fund. Returning to work in the family business, even submitting to his mother’s demands to trade his comfortable flannel for Armani is worthwhile if he can get the money necessary to start a camp for at-risk boys. But then he sees he’ll be working with Victoria Sharpe, his college girlfriend, the one who got away. Or, really, the one he left. The impression he makes here will be the most important of his life, and the person most as risk is himself.

BETTER AS A MEMORY

Marilyn Baxter

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

BETTER AS A MEMORY

Copyright © 2014 Marilyn L. Puett

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

Digital edition created by Maureen Cutajar

www.gopublished.com

ISBN 978-1-941260-17-3

To Annie Rivers, beta reader extraordinaire.

You’re not just a good friend, you’re a SUPER one!

CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Author Bio

Chapter One

I know Max was your fiancé in college, but honey, please put on your big-girl panties. We need this client because you are broke. B-R-O—

Victoria Sharpe stifled a primal scream. You don’t have to spell it out, Sophie. My bank balance shows me how far I’ve fallen. She slumped in her chair, despondent at the turn her life had taken.

Sophie patted Victoria’s shoulder. You haven’t fallen. Just stumbled. But you should set your pride aside.

I have no pride left. I live over my brother’s garage and have given up Neiman Marcus for Goodwill. Besides, he wasn’t my fiancé. Just my boyfriend. Victoria stood and moved to the window of the one-room office, which housed Look Sharpe, the image consulting company that bore her name.

Sophie waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. His mother requested an interview tomorrow for a makeover for her son. She didn’t call some big Buckhead firm. She called us. So you’d better confirm or you’re going to leave Julia Brown hanging. And I don’t suspect she likes to be left hanging."

I’m sure we’re just one of—

Are you kidding? Your history with Max Brown probably makes you a shoo-in. And Brown Industries is only one of the largest privately owned businesses in Atlanta.

The operative word is history. It was long ago, and I’m sure she doesn’t even remember me. She probably just saw our ad.

Right. And if Victoria repeated it enough, she might believe it.

Come with me, Victoria begged. She hated retreating from a challenge. Life in general had been a challenge since she was eighteen and her father had walked out the day after Christmas. Though it was often difficult, she had conquered every obstacle in her way. Without financial support from her father, she’d had to scramble to pay for college.

But Max? Could she face him again? After he’d—

She wouldn’t go there. She had buried that part of her life seven years ago and swore she’d never repeat it. If she had to look Max Brown in the eye, she feared she’d fall for his baby blues again. Or worse yet, she’d cry and confess everything.

Or why don’t you handle the interview? Victoria continued. You know how the program works.

Sophie parked her hands on her hips. I know how it works in theory, but I’m not the one who can enter a store and pull together a complete work wardrobe in fifteen minutes. Just look at me. She spread her arms wide. "Do I look like I stepped off the pages of Vogue?"

Victoria had to admit Sophie wasn’t the most image-conscious person. While her bohemian wardrobe suited her personality, she would stand out in the corporate world like a hooker in church.

Sending Sophie was a surefire way to bypass the short list of candidates. Given Brown Industries’ standing in the Atlanta business community, it was also a surefire way to be blacklisted. Helping girls select cotillion dresses and assisting college graduates dress for interviews had kept the bill collectors at bay. A client like Brown could be the turning point.

She’d read the news article announcing Max Brown had joined his father’s company. The Max she remembered certainly didn’t need a makeover. However, much of their time together had been in bed with both of them naked.

I’m not happy about this, but okay, she grumbled as she grabbed her purse. Meanwhile I have another debutante to assist.

Your part-time employee thanks you. I like to eat.

You’re a full-time friend, Victoria emphasized. Don’t ever forget that.

A client like Brown Industries could open doors. But at what price? Victoria had lost her heart once to Max Brown and spent the last seven years recovering.

Uncertainty plagued her. The future of Look Sharpe could hinge on this. But working with Max?

Just remember to double your rate, Sophie interjected. They’re gazillionaires. They’ll never know the difference.

As she moved toward the door, Victoria caught her reflection in the mirror. She groaned, her mind racing ahead to the possible interview. What’ll I wear tomorrow?

Honey, you could wear a bedspread and impress the pants off any man.

And there was that mental picture of naked Max again. I have to impress his mother.

Sophie dismissed Victoria’s concern with a wave of her hand. I’m no fashion expert, but whatever you wear will be perfect.

Perfect to influence the woman she’d hoped to have as a second mother before everything fell apart.

#

An image consultant? Why? At six-two, Max towered over his mother as he gazed out the window. His office had an unblocked view of downtown Atlanta—all concrete and steel. After years of waking to the sight of snow-capped mountains, Max felt a little pang every time he glanced outside. Sadness? Maybe regret for leaving Colorado? The mornings were cool now, but he couldn’t see a single tree wearing its fall colors.

Julia Brown surveyed her son. Honestly, Max. Hiking boots? Corduroys and a flannel shirt? That’s not what an executive wears.

He turned to his mother and shrugged. I guess it depends on your profession. I’m a trash company executive.

I wish you wouldn’t call this a trash company. Scorn flashed in her eyes. Your grandfather began with nothing but a dream.

And now it’s the largest trash gatherer in north Georgia.

Don’t be petulant, Julia scolded. We all know the reason you came back wasn’t a grand gesture on your part when your brother died.

Max swung back around and stared at the urban mountain range blocking the horizon. Tripp was part of the reason he’d left seven years ago, but not the reason for his return. Not the main one. But an image consultant? The words brought forth memories of the prim and proper old crone who taught the