Hypnotized by Love, page 1
PRAISE FOR SARIAH WILSON
Cinder-Nanny
“Diana and Griffin’s slow-burn closed-door passion is authentic.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Cinder-Nanny is a definite must-read. This cute play on the age-old fairy tale will surely worm its way into your heart and leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy.”
—Harlequin Junkie
“Wilson’s ability to weave a sweet tale of two people, each of whom needs what the other has to offer, is magical.”
—Bookreporter
The Paid Bridesmaid
“Combining a fast-paced plot with a slow-burning romance, this is sure to give readers butterflies.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Wilson’s (Roommaid) funny, sweet stand-alone about marriage, friendships, and mistaken identities is full of witty dialogue, endearing characters, and fast-paced narrative. Will appeal to fans of feel-good romances, rom-coms, and plots about weddings and social media.”
—Library Journal
The Seat Filler
“Wilson (Roommaid) balances the quirky with the heartfelt in this adorable rom-com.”
—Publishers Weekly
The Friend Zone
“Wilson scores a touchdown with this engaging contemporary romance that delivers plenty of electric sexual chemistry and zingy banter while still being romantically sweet at its core.”
—Booklist
“Snappy banter, palpable sexual tension, and a lively sense of fun combine with deeply felt emotional issues in a sweet, upbeat romance that will appeal to both the YA and new adult markets.”
—Library Journal
The #Lovestruck Novels
“Wilson has mastered the art of creating a romance that manages to be both sexy and sweet, and her novel’s skillfully drawn characters, deliciously snarky sense of humor, and vividly evoked music-business settings add up to a supremely satisfying love story that will be music to romance readers’ ears.”
—Booklist (starred review), #Moonstruck
“Making excellent use of sassy banter, hilarious texts, and a breezy style, Wilson’s energetic story brims with sexual tension and takes readers on a musical road trip that will leave them smiling. Perfect as well for YA and new adult collections.”
—Library Journal, #Moonstruck
“#Starstruck is oh so funny! Sariah Wilson created an entertaining story with great banter that I didn’t want to put down. Ms. Wilson provided a diverse cast of characters in their friends and family. Fans of Sweet Cheeks by K. Bromberg and Ruthie Knox will enjoy #Starstruck.”
—Harlequin Junkie (4.5 stars), #Starstruck
OTHER TITLES BY SARIAH WILSON
Stand-Alone Novels
The Hollywood Jinx
The Chemistry of Love
Cinder-Nanny
The Paid Bridesmaid
The Seat Filler
Roommaid
Once Upon a Time Travel
The End of the Line Novels
The Friend Zone
Just a Boyfriend
The #Lovestruck Novels
#Starstruck
#Moonstruck
#Awestruck
The Royals of Monterra Series
Royal Date
Royal Chase
Royal Games
Royal Design
The Ugly Stepsister Series
The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back
The Promposal
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2024 by Sariah Wilson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781662514227 (paperback)
ISBN-13: 9781662514210 (digital)
Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson
Cover image: © sarayut Thaneerat / Getty; © Margarita Chastikova / Getty
For Kollin,
even though you don’t like kissing books
CONTENTS
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
“What did they say?” my identical twin sister, Sierra, asked me as I slumped into the chair across the table from her. She’d told me to meet her at Starbucks after my meeting, and I was regretting that. I didn’t want to be in public right now. I wanted to go home and curl into a ball.
I took off my blazer, and not surprisingly, I was sweating everywhere. I had been trying to look professional, and instead I was a swampy mess. I wondered if that had played any role in the committee’s decision. Only a fool like me would wear a blazer in June in Florida.
“Savannah?” Sierra was waving her hand in front of me, trying to get my attention.
“Censured,” I said, letting out a long breath. My sister pushed a Paradise Drink toward me, and I sipped at it. Not even pineapple mixed with coconut milk could soothe this gaping wound. I was in trouble, and I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m officially censured.”
I didn’t like how heavy that word felt in my mouth. Even though the air-conditioning was on, I pulled my blouse away from my skin, trying to create some kind of breeze to cool down my overheated body.
“What does ‘censured’ mean?” she asked.
“It basically means I’m on probation. That if something else happens, I’m in danger of losing my certification.”
Sierra managed to look angry, frustrated, and concerned all at once. That was the thing about having an identical twin—it was like having a living mirror. Not just in the physical sense, where I was constantly reminded that we had the exact same features, the same dark brown hair and matching dark eyes, but in having a person who constantly reflected your own emotions back at you. Because I was also angry, frustrated, and concerned.
But mostly angry.
“Even if you lost your certification, you could still practice, though, right?”
I shrugged a shoulder. I could. But there were so many dishonest and untrained people in my field claiming to be hypnotherapists that having that certification felt really important to me. Yes, technically I could still practice hypnosis with people, but being a member of the professional organizations that I belonged to and was accredited with mattered to me in a way that I wasn’t sure I could explain to Sierra.
When I didn’t answer, she asked, “What did Camila say about it?”
That question felt like a hot knife skewering my stomach. “I think she’s disappointed.” Camila had been my mentor and the person who’d started me down the road of my profession. She seemed to believe my side of the story but had admonished me to remember what she’d taught me.
I read Camila’s text out loud to Sierra. “It isn’t fair, but like I’ve told you—you have to be very careful. Going forward you’ll have to avoid even the appearance of evil. Don’t give them any more ammunition.” Camila had responded after I’d messaged her to let her know how the meeting had gone. I hated this feeling—like I’d somehow let her down. She’d always been so proud of me in the past.
And I couldn’t even talk things out with her or make a game plan to move forward. She’d texted me from the airport because she was taking a flight to Peru for a retreat and would be incommunicado for the next couple of weeks.
“What does she mean by ‘the appearance of evil’?” Sierra asked.
I set my phone down on the table. “I don’t know. I’m guessing anything that can be construed the wrong way. Maybe I should drop my male clients. Or start recording our sessions. Just to protect myself.”
Something I would have to look up—whether I was even allowed to do that. I had no idea what the law said about it.
My sister leaned across the table and put her hand on top of mine. “I don’t think things are that dire.”
She hadn’t been in that meeting. “They might be.” I let out a long sigh and played with my straw. “How were things at your job today?”
/>
Sierra was an emergency room nurse, and despite her tendency to share the grossest parts of her day, I wanted to change the subject and not think about how close I’d come to losing everything I’d worked for.
All because a man I’d romantically rejected had lied about me and made it his mission to try to ruin my career.
My sister was in the midst of making me clench up as she described her last patient, and the object he’d had in a particular orifice, when our friend Bridget arrived.
Bridget asked, “Am I interrupting?”
“Yes, thankfully,” I told her. We’d all been friends since high school but had grown closer after we’d moved back to our hometown around the same time. Bridget had taken over her mother’s flower shop and had decided to set a state record for most men dated in a single year.
She flashed a smile at me, knowing all too well the kind of grisly story Sierra had been sharing with me. As always, Bridget was a tiny, bright blonde blur, never holding still for very long, shifting and moving in her seat as she settled in.
“I want to hear all about what happened today with you, Savannah,” she said as she dropped two shopping bags on the floor.
But I didn’t want to dwell on the situation. “It went fine. I’m censured. On probation. But I still have my certification.”
Her face turned a light red, and she shook with the rage I was trying to keep contained. “How can they let him get away with this?”
The him in question was Timothy Grainger, a man I barely knew. He had come in as a potential client, but during our initial interview, there was something off about him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, but I told him I didn’t think we would be a good professional fit and gave him the names of three other hypnotherapists that I’d recommend. As I was walking him out, he asked me on a date. I politely told him I wasn’t interested and thanked him for coming in, sent him on his way, and naively thought that was it.
Timothy didn’t let it drop, though. He continued to stop by and wanted to speak to me. He called a few times but didn’t leave a voice mail. I considered contacting the police, worried that things might escalate. But then he just stopped showing up, stopped calling.
I was so glad that it was over.
But my relief had been premature, because instead of harassing me in person, he moved to doing it online. He started leaving negative reviews of my business. He seemed to be creating a new account every day, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Then to make matters worse, he decided to hit me where it would hurt most. He contacted the Florida Board of Professional Hypnotists and filed a formal complaint against me, alleging that I was the one who had harassed him. He said that I had asked him on a date and made him uncomfortable. And I didn’t have any evidence to the contrary—he’d never sent a text or left a message. It was my word against his, and the Board had to err on the side of caution, given all the negativity surrounding our jobs.
Camila had been the one to remind me that our profession was already so constantly maligned that the Board members wanted to be seen as if they were treating the accusation seriously.
And I was the one who had to pay for his lies.
The one good thing I had going for me was that an online client I’d worked with, a young woman named Ginger, turned out to be a social media influencer and told her millions of followers that I’d helped with her anxiety after half a dozen sessions. I’d had so many people sign up for online sessions that it made the annoying thing Timothy had done mostly fade into the background.
Until today, when I’d been forced to deal with it again.
Bridget was still on her rant about it, drawing my attention back to her. “Bad things should happen to him. I hope all the protruding parts of his body wither up and fall off! I feel like we should be doing something. Egging his house, at least. Keying his car. Something.”
The last thing I needed was to be arrested for vandalism. “Unfortunately, people don’t always get the comeuppance they deserve right away. I do believe that he’ll get his, though.”
She crossed her arms and shook her head. “That doesn’t seem like enough. Karma’s not reliable enough for me.”
I needed her to de-escalate. “It’s over. I just want to move past it and think about something else. I don’t want him to have this much control over me and my thoughts.”
“Which I support, but I went online and gave you so many stars that people are going to have to pledge allegiance to them.”
“You’ve never been a client,” I reminded her.
“So? Neither was Timothy and he’s lying every day, and I can lie for your benefit. Plus, everyone lies online. See also: all of social media.” Bridget repositioned her purse on the table, and her Chihuahua, Lulabelle, shook while staring me down. Bridget cooed at her. She took her dog with her everywhere, including on her dates. I knew that dog had seen some things. It was probably why she always seemed so nervous.
“We should talk about something else.” I didn’t want to give Timothy any more words or headspace. He didn’t deserve them.
“Savannah’s right. And since we’re changing the subject,” Sierra said while nodding at me, “do you want to hear about the compound fracture that came in this morning? I’d never seen a bone sticking that far up out of the—”
I gagged slightly and hurried to ask, “How are things going with Joseph?” Joseph was the guy my sister had been dating for the last few weeks.
She grimaced slightly. “Not well. Things have just been . . . off when we’re together. Like, we had dinner last night and he told me I wasn’t allowed to eat carbs in front of him, since he’s gluten-free, and he threw away my pasta.”
He threw away her food? I internally screamed for a second.
“Allowed?” I repeated. “You told him he doesn’t get to dictate what you eat, right?”
“Unacceptable,” Bridget chimed in. “Get out now.”
I didn’t normally go straight to recommending ending things, but nobody got to tell my sister what she could and could not eat. Especially given the disordered eating issues she still had. She’d worked so hard to overcome those thoughts and impulses, and that jerk Joseph knew about them.
Trying to keep my cool, I said, “I know you don’t like breaking up with people, but there will be bread and men with nice personalities who treat you kindly waiting for you on the other side. If you want, I’ll pretend to be you and break up with him.”
“That’s okay. I can do it myself,” she said with a wave of her hand. My offer had been a hundred percent serious. People could never tell us apart, and we had spent years switching places. We still managed to trick our dad on a regular basis, even though our hair was completely different lengths.
So I’d happily call up Joseph and tell him where he could stick his gluten. “You are a much better person than me. I’ve always admired how easygoing and even keeled you are. I would have stabbed him by now.”
“You would have,” she agreed. “I guess I could tell him that we’ve grown apart. That we’re not as close as we were.”
“Right. He grew into someone controlling and self-centered, and you grew into a person who doesn’t care for that. I can see where that would make you not as close as you used to be.” I clamped my lips together so that I wouldn’t say more. Sierra could be stubborn, and I didn’t want to inadvertently add anything that might push her back into his wheatless arms.
So I turned toward Bridget. “And how are things going for you? Any new men we should know about?”
She gave Lulabelle a doggy treat and frowned slightly. “There was a guy last night, but it was no big deal. Just a onetime thing.”
“I feel like you should text us whenever you bring a random guy home. For safety reasons,” Sierra said, and I nodded.
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. Think of my data plan,” she said with a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Maybe we should go out this Saturday,” Sierra said. “We could have an actual girls’ night out.”
“I can’t. I have a date Saturday night,” Bridget said.
“Who with?”
“I don’t know yet. And speaking of dating possibilities . . . I heard a rumor today. One that I think will particularly interest you, Savannah.”
I raised both of my eyebrows at her expectantly. “Me?” After my recent brush with quasi-stalking and harassment, I wasn’t really in a dating kind of place.
“Mm-hmm. Guess who I heard is back in town?”
