The Last Train to Key West (The Perez Family, #3)

by Chanel Cleeton

I envy men the freedom to choose their own spouses. They snap us up as though they are purchasing a piece of fruit at the market, and we are expected to have no say in the matter.

The last name Preston might mean something in this country, but the value is diminished considerably when you’re a mere cousin to greatness, your family status relegated to invitations to the odd wedding and funeral, a reunion every few years.

restaurant—people tend to show the truest parts of themselves when they’re dealing with those who serve them, and I’ve certainly waited on a ruder person—but I’ve given up thinking of people in absolute terms.