ABOUT THE BOOK
When Cate and Andie Sloane's Upper East Side dad fell for Stella and Lola Child's British-model mom, nobody predicted they'd drop the M-bomb—marriage! But the Sloanes and the Childs collide, sparks fly, and two sisterhoods seem destined to combine in Anna Carey's first book: Sloane Sisters.
Stella rolled her eyes. Emma, as British as cricket, tea, and crumpets, was now the face of the most American label on the planet. Soon she'd be eating corn dogs and throwing barbecues for the Fourth of July.
"Will you sit front row at their show at Fashion Week?" Lola continued excitedly.
"Probably." Emma just smiled.
"When you do, make sure you thank Ralph for ruining my life," Stella muttered, keeping her eyes on the mustard yellow cab speeding next to them. The little boy in the back seat had his thumb lodged up his nose.
"I know this is hard for you, Stella, but New York will be good for us. Winston is so excited to have you here, too," her mom said softly. "I'm glad you'll finally have a proper introduction."
Stella curled her toes in her Juicy espadrilles. There was that name again—Winston. The first time Stella heard about Winston was in the spring, after Emma got back from signing the Ralph Lauren contract in New York. Stella and Lola had been walking with their mom in Kensington Gardens, watching the miniature sailboats cut across Round Pond, when Emma dropped the news. Stella had only processed a few words—deep connection, New York, magical, banker, two daughters—but it had been enough to know her mum had a boyfriend. And she didn't want to think about Emma having a "deep connection" with anyone.
Five months later, it was clear that Winston wasn't going to disappear—but Stella intended to stay as far away from him as possible. After all, New York was a city of eight million people. How hard could it be?
Her mother kept her eyes on her older daughter as she finger-combed Lola's wind-knotted waves. "I know you're angry with me right now," she said as the limo wove through Central Park, where groups of teenage girls were sprawled on beach blankets, enjoying their lazy Friday afternoons. "But moving here is the right thing for all of us. I couldn't keep you in London a second longer. This job wasn't just a good opportunity for me—it's going to be good for all of us. It's just—" Her mom's voice cracked.