Spotlight & Giveaway: THE TAKEOVER by Cara Tanamachi

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you CARA TANAMACHI’s new release: THE TAKEOVER

Sometimes, when you ask the universe for your soulmate, you wind up with your hate mate instead.

On Nami’s 30th birthday, she’s reminded at every turn that her life isn’t what she planned. She’s always excelled at everything – until now. Her fiancé blew up their engagement. Her pride and joy, the tech company she helped to found, is about to lose funding. And her sister, Sora, is getting married to the man of her dreams, Jack, and instead of being happy for her, as she knows she ought to be, she’s fighting off jealousy.

Frustrated with her life, she makes a wish on a birthday candle to find her soulmate. Instead, the universe delivers her hate mate, Nami’s old high school nemesis, Jae Lee, the most popular kid from high school, who also narrowly beat her out for valedictorian. More than a decade later, Jae is still as effortlessly cool, charming, and stylish as ever, and, to make matters worse, is planning a hostile take-over of her start-up. Cue: sharp elbows and even sharper banter as the two go head-to-head to see who’ll win this time. But when their rivalry ignites a different kind of passion, Nami starts to realize that it’s not just her company that’s in danger of being taken over, but her heart as well.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from THE TAKEOVER 

My watch pings. It’s a message from a number I don’t know.

Happy Birthday, Namby.

Namby?
My blood runs cold.
Only one person ever calls me that annoying nickname. Jae Lee.
My former high school nemesis. The boy who barely beat me out for valedictorian and two different scholarships I wanted. Badly. The boy rich enough, it was rumored, to pay someone to take the SAT for him. Twice. Jae was always about Jae. To make matters worse, he isn’t even a nerd. He was stupidly, wildly popular in school, a popularity I could never hope to achieve with my penchant for gobbling up extra credit and always raising my hand in class. His popularity continues today on all major social platforms, which I’m absolutely, positively not following him on.

Jae? I write, even though I know it’s him. Nobody else calls me Namby.

Who else would it be, Namby?

I don’t know . . . the antichrist? Whenever you’re around it does feel like end of times, I type back. And how did you get my number?

I’ll tell you when I see you.

Oh, no. Not in this lifetime.

I thought you were in San Jose. Supporting bro
culture. Setting wildfires. Antichrist stuff.

Not anymore. I moved back to Chi-town.

Since when?

I’ll tell you all about the move when we catch up. I’ll see you very soon, he types.
Not if I see you coming first, I type back.
He sends me a laugh-crying emoji. And a devil emoji.
I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’ve got a company to save.
Leave it to Jae to have rotten timing. I haven’t talked to him since high school graduation. And I’ve been carefully avoiding him for years. I glance at the devil emoji on my phone. See me soon? I glance around as if he might pop out of my filing cabinet. Why on earth does he want to see me? And why is he tracking my birthday? It makes me think he’s been working on some kind of horrible prank that’ll be filmed and showcased at our next class reunion. There can be no good reason he remembered my birthday.
Maybe there are clues online. I could check his social.
I glance at my laptop. I’ve been largely avoiding every platform ever since I announced the wedding with Mitch was off. I asked for privacy eighteen months ago, but of course, it was just like pouring gasoline on the fire. Nobody gave me privacy. Somebody even unearthed a blurry video of Mitch, enthusiastically getting familiar with a blonde in the back of his bachelor party neon bus. A couple of people posted it and tagged me, along with their weak condolences and barely disguised gloating. The worst part was it was shared, gleefully, again and again . . . and again. I’ve always known that I was not popular in school (someone has to be hall monitor), but honestly, until this last year and a half, I never actually realized there were so many people out there rooting for me to fail.
I was the smoldering roadside wreck everybody gawked at for months.
But I have to look at the social media I’ve been avoiding now. I have to see what Jae’s doing. Maybe there’s a clue on one of his ac- counts about seeing me “soon.” Maybe something less nefarious like a mutual friend’s wedding?
I haven’t checked up on Jae in years. For a split second, I imagine maybe his life isn’t as perfect as I imagine it to be. Maybe he is also whiffing at his social life. Although I can’t imagine Mr. Prom King ever having that kind of issue. Maybe he has a gambling problem. Maybe even a rare, nonfatal disease. Or even an untreatable recur- ring rash. On his face. My mind goes down a terrible rabbit hole of bleak outcomes for Jae, anything that might make me feel better about my own life.
I’m not proud of this, okay?
I get that I shouldn’t wish bad things for people. Even for people like Jae.
I pull up his account and peer at his public posts. Immediately, I realize my mistake. There will be no gleeful tale of woe in Jae’s pro- file. Why would I think that? The golden boy is still . . . golden. And worse, he’s gotten better-looking with age. Brilliant-white dimpled smile still perfect. Not one missing tooth. Not one. And he still has all his thick, black hair.
Look, he just got a new car. A sleek, expensive-looking silver Audi that would make Tony Stark jealous. Fantastic. And look there, that’s him moving back home to Chicago. Did he really write #SweetHomeChicago like a tourist fool? Ugh. There’s him relaxing on the balcony of his obscene Gold Coast condo in the brand-new high-rise everyone’s talking about overlooking Lake Michigan. His place makes my Old Town two-bedroom apartment look like the dark, wet corner of a dumpster.
Also, why are almost all his posts public? Braggy, much?
I scroll through more posts. Where is he even working? He doesn’t say in the public posts I can see. But whatever he’s doing, it pays well enough to frequent all the Michelin star restaurants. I feel nauseous. There seems to be a new gorgeous influencer model on his arm every week, even though he only moved here less than a year ago. Of course. Jae Lee never went dateless in his life. And all his ex-girlfriends beg to be friends with him afterward, too, based on all the hearted messages. Wait. I peer at my phone. He went on safari? In Africa? Posed with wildlife conservationists? There’s an actual lion in this picture. A lion!
And . . . Paris.
Wait. He went to freakin’ Paris.
I feel hollowed out and sad as he’s perched near the base of the Eiffel Tower, arms outstretched, huge smile on his face.
My stomach twists with envy.
Paris was where I was supposed to go on my honeymoon.
I shut my laptop with an irritated sigh, envy burning a hole in my gut. Jae’s account should come with a warning label, like all those random prescription drug ads. Looking at Jae Lee’s profile might bring on a severe and untreatable case of Life Envy. Some patients experience feelings of despair, wanting to jump out the nearest window, scream as loud as they can, pull out all their hair, and/or murder Jae Lee. If you have Life Envy lasting more than eight hours, or sudden, violent homicidal thoughts, contact your doctor immediately.
Might as well rehash how he was state tennis champion, and I didn’t even make it past the first round of regionals. How he won prom king by leading a viral flash mob dance, while I never even got invited.
Despite being an egomaniacal jerk for most of high school, he was never the smoking wreckage that people cheered to see burn.
My phone pings again.
Can’t wait to catch up—in person, Namby, Jae texts. Bye for now.

Excerpt. ©CARA TANAMACHI. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.

Giveaway: 1 Print copy of THE TAKEOVER to one US entrant.

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Meet the Author:

Cara Tanamachi lives near Chicago with her husband and five children (two by biology and three by marriage), and their 85-pound Goldendoodle, Theodore. Raised near Dallas, Texas by her Japanese-American dad and her English-Scottish American mom, she was the oldest of two children (the debate still rages whether she or her brother are currently the family favorite). The University of Pennsylvania (Go Quakers!) grad worked as a newspaper reporter, and then published many novels such as Dater’s Handbook and The Love Cure under the name Cara Lockwood. A former single mom, she spent eight years dating (hilariously and awkwardly) before finding the love of her life on Bumble (yes, Bumble!). She believes we all could use a little more happily ever after.

Buy: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250842282/the-takeover