How To Fix A Broken Heart by Bambo Deen

BLURB

Don’t they say two wrongs make a right…or something?

Dawn is officially in the struggle zone. Her job is a mess, her side hustle isn’t faring much better, and home doesn’t bring the comfort she needs. Dawn is sinking under the weight of responsibilities and needs some fun to counter all this stress. The best remedy comes in a tall, hunky package who just happens to be emotionally unavailable. Sometimes, hooking up with the wrong guy is the best way to unwind.

Red is nursing a broken heart…or at least it feels like one. His on-again-off-again girlfriend is putting him through hell. Surely it won’t hurt to test the waters a bit? A one-night stand with Dawn leaves him wanting more. He has been lonely for too long, and trying to stand on his own feet is hard when there’s no one on his team.

Two young lovers are drawn together amid family feuds, secrets and legacies. With emotions running high and betrayals at every turn, Red and Dawn learn the best way to fix broken hearts is with each other.

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SAMPLE from Chapter One

For one efficient wedding loaded with delicious food, the libations proved sorely lacking. What had looked like wine at first glance turned out to be grape juice.

“There’s no alcohol,” Dawn said to her best friend Sope over the live band playing fuji classics.

“Her family is religious,” Sope replied.

Dawn nodded solemnly. The bridal shower yesterday had been a sombre affair dominated by aunties advising the bride to submit to her husband and then warning the bride’s friends about the dangers of pre-marital sex.

On a gilded couch on the platform, bride & groom wore matching colours of orange and gold. They made a handsome couple, and as Sope had indeed stated, the groom’s six brothers were eye candy and definitely belonged on a modelling catalogue. While Dawn wished everyone well, she’d only shown up for the party, yet what kind of party could be had without alcohol?

“Hold on, see that table? Easy!” Sope gently touched Dawn’s cheek so she wouldn’t crane her head. “You always stare too hard. The table to your left.”

Dawn tried her best to be subtle as she glanced left amid the sea of tables decorated with plastic flowers and bronze centre-pieces. Guests milled around, mingling with servers and a few children running unsupervised. Finally, she saw what Sope referred to. About two tables down, she spied men about their age slipping a bottle of vodka back and forth underneath the white tablecloth. She perked up immediately.

“Should we ask them?”

“You go and ask since you want to be tipsy so bad,” Sope replied. “Wait… See that guy over there?”

“Which one?”

Sope groaned as Dawn craned her head.

Dawn was about to laugh at her friend’s exasperation when she saw him. The straight-backed man with caramel skin, with the friendliest face at the table. He smiled at something his friends were saying while his long fingers shredded a paper napkin on the table.

“Ah, you’ve seen him. He’s our type.”

It was running joke between them that they found the same kind of man attractive. This one ticked all the boxes; he was tall, his eyes were round and expressive, his broad shoulders fit snugly against the tailored white tunic he wore, his full lips suggested decadent kisses.

Dawn perked up. “Should I bring him back? With the alcohol, obviously.”

“Both would be nice.” Sope batted her eyes dreamily.

Dawn winked at her friend and got up. This would be just like their undergrad days of shameless flirting at Ilorin, before she’d gone for an MBA in the US. Even with the post-graduate degree, her prospects here seemed bleak, and with the restaurant on top, goodness knows her life needed the distraction.

She tugged her skin-tight lace dress down. Made by Sope’s tailor with the matching teal fabric chosen for the wedding guests, the outfit hugged all her curves, ankle-length with a slit reaching mid-thigh, the sheer netting over her shoulders and chest showing off her cleavage.

Sope wolf-whistled. Dawn tossed her silky straight weave over her shoulder and threw a smile at her friend. She knew she looked good. As she sashayed towards her target, she felt eyes on her. The attention brought a satisfied smile to her face and emboldened her.

The men at the table perked up at her approach, except for Mr Sexy. He didn’t notice her until she touched his shoulder.

“Hey!” She smiled, amused at the way his brows shot up.

Dawn leaned forward, placing one hand on the table’s edge and the other on her hip so he could hear her over the live band but also affording him a view of her breasts. His dark eyes scanned her body, leaving a hint of frisson in their wake before he looked away.