The Happiness Plan

by Susan Mallery

Genres: Friendship; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

The new summer romance from the bestselling author of Home Sweet Christmas

Some things shouldn’t be left to chance…

For Heather life is pretty perfect. She has a successful business, a cute but contemptuous cat, and best friends Daphne and Tori. Except one thing, the father she never knew. Should she find him, and risk heartache or be content not knowing why he left?

When Daphne’s husband accuses her of having an affair her world is rocked. They used to be the closest couple she knew, until she wanted a baby and he wanted to wait. Can they find their way back to one another before it’s too late?

Tori is always looking for ‘the one’. But when her apartment floods and she moves in with her best friend she finds that perhaps what she had been searching for was living right next door all the time.

Three women search for joy in #1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery’s new story of love, hope and the power of friendship.

Readers LOVE Susan Mallery

‘I just loved the whole story, couldn’t put it down.’

‘This story has everything, romance, humour, family and a moral compass… Brilliant.’

‘[H]eartwarming and romantic. I devoured it!'

'Susan Mallery has gift for making fictional towns you wish you could live in.'

Release date: June 20, 2023

Publisher: MIRA Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

one

“Is it possible you’re overcommitting in your personal life because you don’t want to feel your emotions?” Tori Rocha asked, her tone more concerned than judgy. “Kittens? Really? Because you needed one more thing?”

Heather Sitterly glanced down at the three sleeping two-week-old kittens she’d just agreed to foster, thought about the client she’d signed that morning and the kitchen remodel she was considering.

“Possible?” she repeated, grinning as she spoke. “No. Not possible. I think we can agree it’s likely. Very likely.”

Tori’s mouth twitched, as if trying not to smile. “Admitting you have a problem is half the battle. How can I help?”

Heather shifted her wrist so her friend and the head graphic designer at 206 Marketing Group could see her smart watch.

“In forty-two minutes these little guys will need feeding.”

“The conference room in forty-two minutes. I’ll be there.”

So would the rest of the senior staff, Heather thought, because forty-two minutes from now was the weekly update meeting.

“Thanks.”

Heather walked to her large corner office where she had an oversize executive desk, a small conference table and a seating area. The traditional furniture contrasted with the soft-sided playpen in the back corner.

She set the box of kittens on the coffee table and pulled a couple of soft blankets from the closet, along with a large heating pad. She set the heating pad on the lowest setting and covered it with one of the blankets, then used the second one to make a little nest. Carefully, she transferred the sleeping kittens to the playpen where they mewed for a few seconds before falling back to sleep.

“I’ll take good care of you,” she whispered. “In a few weeks you’ll be old enough to go to your forever homes. You’ll have a great life.”

Between now and adoption day, Heather would be their surrogate mother. While time consuming, the task wasn’t a stretch. She fostered on a regular basis. Once she got the kittens back to her place, she would be aided by her crabby, mistrustful cat, LC, who loathed her but was an amazing foster dad to all the kittens she brought home.

Heather crossed to her desk and uploaded the signed contracts from Mountain Goat Northwest, their newest client. She’d been courting them for eighteen months, so having them sign on the dotted line was a sweet victory. MGNW specialized in outerwear for various sports but emphasized sustainable fabrics and bright colors, often decorated with faux fur. Many of their jackets and pants could be custom ordered with personalized details such as patterns and trim.

She’d sold MGNW on an experiential marketing campaign—one that would help form a relationship with their customers to create brand loyalty for a lifetime.

Once she’d sent the contracts to accounting, she answered her email briefly, fingers flying over the keyboard. She’d nearly finished when a new email appeared with a familiar subject line.

More detailed DNA results. See who else might be related to you.

“I already know who’s related to me,” Heather murmured, clicking on the link. She logged in to her Ancestry account and stared at the familiar information.

Potential blood relatives included a few distant cousins, some old lady in Belarus and a married man with two daughters living about forty-five minutes north of Seattle. Her gaze lingered on the last entry.

Fletcher Causey, age fifty-two. From what she’d learned in a cursory online search, he was a high school history teacher, had never been in prison and according to his Facebook page, which for reasons not clear to her wasn’t private, was a devoted dad to two girls. He liked sports, grew his own vegetables and had been married to his wife for fifteen years. More compelling than all that was the fact that according to Ancestry, there was a 97.5 percent chance he was also Heather’s father. The result of a one-night stand when he and her mother had been eighteen.

She’d learned about the possible DNA match six months ago but had yet to reach out. Her mother was enough of a pain—Heather wasn’t interested

in another clingy relative. Only Fletcher seemed like a good guy and she’d always wondered about her father and...

“Is it true? Are there kittens?”

She looked up and smiled at Sam, her head of market research. Sam was a genius when it came to understanding demographics and trends, often creating his own algorithms to dig down into the numbers. Heather didn’t understand the how of what he did, but she appreciated the results.

“Three of them and you’re the first one here.”

“I washed my hands,” he said as he crossed to the playpen. He slowly removed one kitten, getting a mew of protest as he carefully turned it over before putting it back.

There were two black-and-white kittens and one gray one. The second kitten barely stirred as he lifted it. Once he’d determined the gender, he sat down on the sofa and carefully put a tiny blue collar around its neck.

“Let me guess,” she said drily. “Russell Wilson?”

“My hero.”

“You know he’s no longer a Seahawk. He left the team and our beautiful city.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t care. Ten years after he’s retired, he’ll still be my man.”

Heather’s watch beeped a five-minute warning for the meeting.

“Time to heat the formula,” she said.

“I’ll bring these guys.” Sam put Russell Wilson into the box and collected the other two kittens.

Heather walked to the break room where she found Tori collecting towels, feeding syringes and cotton balls. A can of formula was on the counter along with a cup of water.

“I warmed the water already,” Tori told her. “But check the temperature.”

“Thanks. Sam’s already claimed his kitten. Did you want to name one?”

Her friend grinned. “Unlike Sam, I’m not comfortable giving kittens the same name over and over again and I’ve run out of creative options. I’ll let someone else give it a shot.”

The house rule was the first to help with a kitten got to name it—at least until its adoption.

Heather mixed the formula and tested the temperature before carrying it into the conference room. Her director of digital marketing had already claimed the gray girl. Tori passed out supplies while Heather filled each syringe.

“I hear we’re due for a celebration,” Elliot Young, her mentor and business partner, said as he walked into the conference room. “Someone signed Mountain Goat Northwest this morning.”

He was followed by one of the marketing staff pushing a cart piled high with cupcakes, sparkling water and coffee.

Elliot sat next to her and reached for the kitten she held. “You worked hard for that account. You deserve to celebrate.”

Everyone not holding a kitten applauded. Heather felt a flush of pride and gratitude.

“It was a team effort,” she told them. “We’re going to be good for them and they’re going

to be good for us.”

Elliot set the kitten on the towel and picked up the syringe filled with formula. Like everyone at 206 Marketing Group, he was well practiced in feeding and caring for motherless kittens. It came with the job. During the interview process, all prospective employees were warned that there were nearly always cats in the building, along with Tori’s dog. Those with a severe pet allergy might want to think about working elsewhere.

Once everyone had their cupcakes and drinks, Heather took control of the meeting.

“We’ll start with experiential marketing,” she said, glancing to her left.

As she listened to the update, Heather thought about how fortunate she was in her work life. With Elliot’s wise counsel, she’d avoided many of the pitfalls that came with starting a new business. She’d been well funded and had been able to lure away top talent and clients. Four years after opening its doors, the company was thriving and so was she. At least professionally. The rest of her life was a disaster.

Well, not all of it—just the romantic part, driven by her inability to commit. Or say the L word. Okay, and she had trust issues. There was also the confusion of equally wanting and not wanting to meet her birth father. Plus, her mother. Other than that, she was the picture of mental health.

And while most of those problems could be solved—with the exception of her mother—dealing with them made her uncomfortable. Which was why she had a new batch of foster kittens with which to distract herself.

Better kittens than emotional self-exploration, she thought. Maybe, at the end of the day, business success was enough and the relationship stuff wasn’t necessary. A lie, of course, but one she thought she could embrace fully. At least for now.

---

“Is she asleep? Dad said not to bug her if she’s asleep.”

“She’s not asleep. She can hear us.”

“We’re going to get in big trouble if we wake her. She worked really late last night.”

Daphne Brown stayed perfectly still, doing her best not to smile as she listened to her stepkids loudly whispering from just outside the master bedroom. Usually, the three of them slept in on weekends, but they were excited to go hiking with their dad and uncles, so they’d bounced out of bed at six. She’d ignored the pounding of their steps as they raced downstairs, but there was no way to sleep through their talking.

“I want to say good morning,” Alexa, the youngest of the three, said more loudly.

Daphne rolled onto her back, bumping into Albert and Vanessa. Albert, a Siamese mix, raised his head and stared disdainfully at the children in the doorway.

He was very much a one-person cat and Brody’s three were not his people. In contrast, Vanessa, a beautiful calico, loved the world and expected it to love her back. She stood with an obvious expectation of cuddles and pets.

She was not disappointed. The kids threw themselves onto the bed, wrestling with each other to see who could snuggle closest, Alexa dragging Vanessa with her.

“You’re awake! You’re awake!”

Elijah, ten and the oldest, spoke for the siblings. He was a natural-born leader and Daphne thought he had the potential to be president. “We already had breakfast. Dad made pancakes. But don’t worry. We cleaned up the mess.”

She sat up and shoved the pillows behind her back. Elijah settled on her left while Cadin and Alexa shared her right side. Vanessa climbed on her lap and Albert moved away to a safe distance where he could observe and judge.

“You cleaned up?” Daphne asked with a grin. “On purpose?”

They all laughed. Alexa proudly explained, “I started it. I cleared my plate and put it on the counter. I got an extra disk.”

“You did? That’s amazing!”

In their house, good behavior was rewarded with a small plastic disk. Elijah’s were green and Cadin’s were blue—the Seattle Seahawks colors—while Alexa’s were bright purple for the University of Washington Huskies. Disks were collected in a box and every few weeks, one was drawn. The kid whose disk was drawn got to be king or queen for the day, choosing dinner and the evening’s entertainment.

“How were the pancakes?” Daphne asked, putting her arms around her brood. “Excellent?”

“Superior,” Cadin said.

“Outstanding!” Elijah told her.

Alexa looked up at her and grinned. “They were very, very good.”

“Did you leave any for me?”

Smiles faded as the kids stared at her in confusion.

“Dad said you didn’t want any,” Elijah told her.

Her good mood drained away, leaving the exhaustion that came from only five hours of sleep. Just as unpleasant was the proof that Brody was still pissed at her and showing it in every passive-aggressive way possible.

Aware of the three watching her, she faked a huge smile as she said, “But I do want my coffee.”

They scrambled off the bed.

“I’ll pour,” Elijah said, beating the others to the top of the landing.

“I’ll get the milk.”

“I’ll get the mug.”

“No running on the stairs,” she called, then turned to her cats and softened her voice.

“I didn’t want his pancakes, anyway. Maybe I’ll go out to breakfast. Because men are stupid poopieheads.”

Albert rubbed her face with his in agreement.

Daphne pulled her robe over the T-shirt and yoga pants that she slept in when the kids were with them. Sexy nightgowns only happened on alternate weeks. Since the change in the parenting plan three months ago—with every other weekend replaced by shared custody and the children here alternating weeks—she’d been living a strange half-life. Half the time she and Brody could do what they wanted without worrying about soccer or summer programs. The other half they were harried working parents and she had to deal with meals for five and doctors’ appointments, not to mention homework, playdates, shopping and activities, while maintaining her seventy-to eighty-hour workweek. She loved having the kids around and looked forward to spending time with them, but she was exhausted. Making partner within a month of the custody change had been exciting but had added to her stress level. And now she and Brody were fighting.

She went downstairs to the kitchen. The scent of pancakes and bacon lingered, but there was no evidence of the meal. Brody hadn’t even saved her a couple of pieces of bacon. The kids had her coffee ready. She smiled and thanked them, then took a sip.

“Heaven,” she told them.

They laughed.

“What time are you leaving?” she asked Elijah.

“Nine,” he told her. “Grant and Campbell are coming here and we’re going to the deli for sandwiches. Dad said it’s a two-hour drive to the trailhead, so we won’t be back until four or five.”

Daphne did the math. Two hours there and back, so four hours in total. Say a half hour for a lunch break, which left three and a half hours for hiking. Not her idea of a fun day, and she wasn’t sure Alexa was going to be up for that much, either.

“You going to be okay with all those men?” she asked the six-year-old, careful to keep her voice teasing.

“I’ll be in charge.” Alexa batted her eyelashes.

Daphne grinned. “You go, girl.” Her humor faded. “You’ll tell your dad if you get tired.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Brody had entered the kitchen. Most days the sight of his dark hair and broad shoulders still made her swoon a little. He was a handsome man with an easy charm that had caught her attention immediately. Their courtship had been fast, intense and everything she’d dreamed of. She’d fallen for his kids, too, adored his brothers, got along with his ex-wife and until two weeks ago, had thought they had a solid marriage.

“Is it a steep trail?” she asked him. “She’s small and she can’t always keep up. Maybe she should stay home with me.”

His dark eyes sharpened. “You said you’d be working.”

Daphne held in a flinch. There it was again—that tone. Why did he have to be so difficult?

“I am, but here and only for a couple of hours.” She looked at Alexa. “We could go to lunch and a movie.”

Alexa glanced between them as if not sure what to say. Judging from their concerned expressions and tense body language, Brody’s kids had figured out there was something wrong.

“Alexa, you’re coming with us,” Brody said firmly. He pointed to the doorway. “All of you, go get dressed. Layers. It’ll be cool when we start, but hot as we hike the trail.”

They trooped out of the

kitchen, leaving the adults by themselves. Daphne picked up her coffee, then set it down.

“Alexa shouldn’t go. She’s going to fall behind, then she’ll cry and you’ll get mad and yell at her, which will make things worse. She’s only six. She can’t hike for three hours.”

Her husband glared at her. “I think I know my children a little better than you do.”

Her temper rose. His “I’m the real parent and you’re not” attitude was new and annoying.

“Why?” she asked. “I spend as much time with them. But sure, if you want to be a jerk, go ahead. You’re getting good at it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not being a jerk. I’m taking my kids out for a hike with their uncles.”

“Oh, Brody, come on. Making breakfast for everyone but me? Being stubborn about Alexa? You know I’m right about her being too small, but you’d rather she suffer than admit that.” She pressed her hands against the island. “At some point you have to stop being pissed long enough to have a conversation with me.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not pissed, as you describe it, Daphne. I found out my wife had an affair with someone she works with. Pissed doesn’t come close to explaining what I feel.”

The exhaustion returned and with it a need to defend herself for the thousandth time.

“I didn’t have an affair,” she said quietly, aware of three sets of ears upstairs. “You know I didn’t. Miguel and I are colleagues and friends. We have lunch. I have lunch with lots of people and many of them are men. If you hired women in your department, you’d have lunch with them. It’s a business thing. It’s what happens.”

Brody moved closer to her, anger radiating from him in waves. “He sent you flowers.”

She tried not to flinch, aware that the flower thing was bad. “He did and I was as surprised as you.”

“I doubt that.”

She ignored him and kept talking. “I told him he shouldn’t do that.”

She’d been very direct in the note she’d dropped off at his office, first thanking him for the flowers, but then telling Miguel sending them wasn’t appropriate and that he should never do it again.

“You kept them!”

She threw up her hands. “Yes. My assistant thought they were from you. Throwing them in the trash would send all kinds of messages that would create trouble.”

“You didn’t tell me about the flowers.”

Score one for him, she thought grimly. “I didn’t. I’ve already apologized for that and

I’m happy to do so again. I was wrong. I should have said something. I was surprised and didn’t know what to say. So I kept quiet.”

And had put the flowers on her credenza and forgotten about them until Brody had showed up to take her to lunch two days later. Her assistant had complimented him on flowers he hadn’t sent and it had all been a shit storm ever since.

“Brody, please. Miguel and I are just friends. There’s nothing between us. There never has been. I’m not interested in anyone else and even if for some crazy reason I was, I have no time for an affair. As you’re always pointing out, I run from work to home and back. I love you and the kids and our life. We’re happy together. At least we were.”

She thought about adding they rarely fought, only lately that was all they did. First about the baby and now this.

“You want me to let it go,” he said bitterly. “But you won’t even admit what it was. You can pretend all you want, but you had an affair with that man. Until you stop lying to me and possibly yourself, this can’t be fixed.”

He stalked out of the kitchen. Daphne held in a scream. Why was he being so unreasonable? An affair? Seriously? The last thing she wanted was more stress in her life. Why did Brody have to be like this?

She drew in a breath, then exhaled sharply. The stupid flowers, she thought resentfully. She should have tossed them and let Irena, her assistant, think what she wanted. Then none of this would have happened. But she hadn’t and now Brody was determined to make her pay for something she hadn’t done.

She and Miguel were work friends, nothing more. They had lunch and okay, the occasional drink in one of their offices when they worked late, but she did the same with some of the other partners. Less often, perhaps, but it happened. She was friends with lots of people at the office. As for the flowers, Miguel had apologized for overstepping and that had been that. Or so she’d thought.

But God forbid Brody should believe her very rational explanation. Instead, he accused her of having an affair and was turning into an unreasonable goat of a man.

She dumped her cold coffee. After feeding Albert and Vanessa, she went upstairs to shower, only to find Alexa waiting in her bedroom.

The little girl ran to her and hugged her tight. “Are you mad at me?”

Daphne dropped to her knees. “Sweetie, why would I be mad?”

Tears filled Alexa’s big brown eyes. “Because I said I want to go with Daddy instead of staying with you. But I want to do both, cross my heart.”

“I know.” She smoothed her hair off her forehead. “I want you to go with your daddy if that makes you happy. I’d never be mad about that. I’m just worried that it’s too much. So you need to be able to say when you get tired.”

“I will. I don’t want to be left behind. They always leave me behind because I’m the youngest and I’m small.”

“But mighty in spirit,” Daphne told her.

Alexa grinned. “I’m powerful.” Her smile faded. “Can we go to lunch and a movie next Saturday I’m here?”

“We can.” Daphne pulled her close. “It’s a date.”

Order restored, Alexa broke free. “I have to get dressed.”

“Yes, you do.”

She ran out of the room. Daphne walked into the master bath where she locked the door. Once she’d showered, she would take a look at her to-do list. With everyone gone until late afternoon, she could focus on work for a few hours, then get everything else done and possibly have time for a quick nap. Far better than what she really wanted to do, , which was curl up and have a lengthy cry as she tried to figure out how to get her marriage back on track when her husband was furious with her for something she hadn’t done.

two

“You look beautiful tonight,” Kyle said with a smile. “You look beautiful every time I see you, but there’s a little extra sparkle tonight.”

“Thanks,” Tori said with a laugh. “I feel sparkly.”

Some of it came from the ten additional minutes she’d spent on her makeup, and some of it was because after almost three dates with Kyle, she was starting to feel the tiniest whisper of hope. Maybe, just maybe, for once, she’d picked a good guy. Not a deadbeat loser who would hit her up for a loan or a man who’d fathered five kids with five different women and didn’t bother with any of them, or a guy who said he loved her, then left because he felt too much. Because the truth was, Tori seemed to attract—and be attracted to—less than perfect men.

She held in a sigh. Okay, more than less than perfect, but so far two and a tenth dates in, Kyle seemed different.

“How was your day?” He leaned toward her as he spoke, as if he was really interested in what she had to say.

“Good. I’m starting on the campaign for a new client.”

“How does that happen? Do you come up with the ideas yourself?”

“Usually, we brainstorm directions as a team. I do some preliminary designs so we can decide on a style. Contemporary, nostalgic, cutting edge? Who’s the target audience? In a perfect world, I’ll come up with something that spans demographics, but initially, there’s a more specific group I’m trying to reach.”

Their server appeared and took their drink orders.

“What did you do today?” she asked when the man had left.

“Three dental cleanings and a couple of well-puppy visits,” he told her.

Kyle was a veterinarian. They’d met at the dog park a couple of weeks ago when she’d taken Scout and Zeus for some playtime. He’d been there with a beautiful black lab. While the dogs had made friends, she and Kyle had started talking.

“Don’t talk about puppies,” she said with a laugh. “I’m always tempted. My friends are all into cats, but if it were up to me, there would be puppies every day.”

He chuckled. “They’re a lot of fun. Today I saw a three-month-old beagle. He was a cute little guy who—”

“Hello, Kyle.”

Tori glanced at the woman who had stopped by their table. She was in her midthirties and casually dressed for the upscale restaurant. But it was her expression—part disbelief, part resignation, overlaid with vibrating anger—that most caught Tori’s attention.

“Olivia.” Kyle paled. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you.”

Tori’s oh crap, this is going to be bad radar kicked in. Something was happening and things were about to turn yucky.

Olivia looked at her. “Where did you meet?”

The random question surprised her. “At, um, the dog park.”

“Of course.” Her expression turned pitying. “It’s not his dog. We were pet sitting for a friend.”

Tori’s throat tightened as her stomach lurched. Apprehension morphed into dread. “We?” She looked at Kyle, who was staring at the table. “We?”

“He’s married, with two kids,” Olivia told her. “He’s a truck driver for a local delivery company. And he cheats. A lot.”

No. Just no. Tori looked at Kyle. “Married?”

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry? He was sorry?

There were a thousand things she could say. The cutlery was heavy—she could throw her fork at his head. But to what end? Once again, her hopes and dreams had been crushed by cruel reality. All she wanted was to find a good guy, fall in love and live a happy, albeit ordinary, life. A couple of kids, dogs, vacations. Growing old together and being able to look back on years of good, solid memories.

Which was, she thought as she rose, too much to ask. At least in her little corner of the universe. Humiliation burned. She’d been a fool. Again.

“I didn’t know,” she told Olivia.

“I guessed that.” Her tone, like her expression, was pitying. No doubt she thought

Tori was pathetic—something Tori found herself agreeing with.

She slipped on her coat and quickly walked outside. A light misty rain fell, but she didn’t bother with her umbrella. She hurried to the valet stand and handed over her ticket, grateful she’d driven herself. Better to be able to leave right away than to have to wait for an Uber, terrified she would have to face Olivia again.

Married. That was bad, even for her. She expected a loser, or at the very least, a guy who would leave, because if they weren’t jerks, they left. But married? Why?

She tipped the valet and got into her small SUV. As she drove toward her condo in Bellevue she wondered if she’d missed any signs. How could she have not known he was married?

She parked at her building, then took the elevator to the third floor where she had a good-size one-bedroom with a den condo. There was a large south-facing deck and plenty of windows to let in light. But instead of entering her own unit, ...