One More Night (Sweetbriar Cove Book 13)

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One More Night (Sweetbriar Cove Book 13) Page 19

by Melody Grace


  Married.

  As in, rings, and a cake, ‘til death do you part. Walking down the aisle, and pledging himself to someone, body and soul.

  Despite his explanations, her head still buzzed with questions, and all of them were about the woman who’d been waiting at that altar. His ex-wife. Who was she?

  Who was the woman who’d made him vow never to try love or commitment again?

  Letitia fell back onto the bed again, feeling more confused than ever. She’d been so sure last night that she had to end it. After all, they were going nowhere. Chase didn’t want the same things as her, he’d made that crystal clear. He thought commitment was a trap, not a promise; something to scorn, not admire. And if he couldn’t even open himself to the possibility of a future together, then she was just setting herself up for heartbreak with every new day she spent in his arms.

  But now? She just missed him with a terrible ache, remembering the feel of his arms around her, and how they’d laughed together all those mornings, tangled up right here in bed…

  Letitia rolled over and buried her face in a pillow. She wished she could just pack up her car and drive back to Boston, and leave summer – and all her heartache – behind. But she couldn’t go, not yet. She was Eliza’s chief bridesmaid, half the Prescott family was descending on Sweetbriar Cove for the wedding this weekend, and she still had days of festivities ahead. A parade of perfect, happy occasions that she would attend with a smile on her face and not a hair out of place, the way she was supposed to. The way everyone expected her to be. She’d spent long enough training to fix on a smile and make small talk, she could do it for just one more weekend.

  Even if her heart was breaking in two.

  Eventually, Letitia couldn’t ignore the buzz of messages on her phone, or the lengthly to-do list waiting on the dresser any longer. She dragged herself into the shower, and then dressed in her sunniest linen dress, blow-drying her hair and carefully applying makeup to hide the dark shadows under her eyes, until nobody could have guessed the heartache she was hiding.

  What was Chase doing right now?

  Letitia couldn’t think about it, so she grabbed her day planner, made a thermos of coffee, and threw herself into a day of last-minute wedding errands, making sure everything would go off without a hitch. She assembled boxes of decorations, and delivered them to Sage for the rehearsal dinner; drove all the way to Falmouth to pick up a set of vinyl records with Eliza and Cal’s favorite songs, and even stopped by Cal’s to drop off Tupperware containers containing beef bourguignon for two. It had been sitting in her refrigerator, making Letitia’s heart ache every time she opened the door, but it didn’t need to go to waste. “Just reheat at 350 for thirty minutes,” she told him.

  “Thanks, but… Are you sure we can’t do anything to help with the wedding prep?” Cal asked. “It feels weird to be just sitting back, while you’re running around the whole Cape for us.”

  “Do you know the difference between white table linens, and ecru?” she countered.

  He grinned. “Maybe not. But still—”

  “It’s fine. Really,” Letitia reassured him. “I like being busy.”

  It was a distraction from the gaping wound in her chest, at least.

  Cal searched her face. “Is everything OK?” he asked, and she quickly plastered on an even brighter smile.

  “Of course! Now, I’ve arranged an afternoon at the spa today for you and Eliza. Don’t argue,” she added, before Cal could object. “It’s the calm before the storm, and you’ll want to relax together before things get crazy. Aunt Millicent arrives tonight,” she added, and Cal made a face.

  “The last time she met Eliza’s mom, she spoiled the end of her favorite TV show.” He said with a wince. “They almost threw down right there in the middle of the restaurant.”

  “Seaweed scrubs it is, then.” She looked at him, and was struck by a sudden swell of nostalgia. “Remember all those weddings we’d go to as kids?” she asked quietly. “The speeches would go on and on, so we’d sneak off and hide somewhere, and eat all the cake.”

  “And vow we’d never be so old and boring,” Cal agreed with a grin. “Look at us now.”

  Letitia felt tears welling, so she quickly hugged him to cover. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered, choking up.

  Cal drew back. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked. “Eliza said that there was something with Chase…”

  Letitia swallowed hard. “It’s nothing!” she lied again, and rummaged in her purse. “Here are the spa vouchers, ask for a massage with Sven. And friendly advice? Leave your phone in the lockers,” she added. “So mom can’t reach you.”

  “Good call,” Cal agreed. She whisked away, before her cousin could see through her carefree act. The last thing Letitia wanted was to ruin the big event with her pesky emotions, but the wound was so fresh, her heart felt raw and exposed.

  She had nobody to blame but herself. She’d seen the warning signs; hell, Chase carried one around, strapped to his chest. ‘Danger: Playboy Ahead’. He made no secret about his feelings towards love and commitment, but she’d been foolish enough to wonder, what if…?

  Letitia always prided herself on keeping a cool head when it came to business. She gathered all the intel, analyzed the right figures, and then executed her plan. Data doesn’t care about your emotions, she would often joke to her coworkers, but somehow, all that careful planning had gone right out the window the minute Chase Kinsella and his heart-stopping smile had rolled into town. How many times had people warned her that he was just a temporary fling? How many times had she told herself to stay away?

  And how many times had her heart beat so loudly, it drowned out all her doubts?

  Well, there was no avoiding the truth now.

  Letitia gripped the steering wheel tighter, and tried to push down her emotions as she drove back towards Sweetbriar Cove. She hated feeling this way: so lost, and rejected, as if somehow, she wasn’t good enough to make him change. But that was just the heartache talking, she reminded herself, trying to be logical again. She’d had breakups before, she knew the drill. If anything, she should be glad about the wedding, because it gave her a ready-made schedule of distraction to keep her mind off of Chase.

  A boozy bachelorette night out with the girls? Check. Professional hair and makeup styling, so she didn’t fall into a pit of despairing sweatpants? Check. And as for comfort-eating all her feelings? Well, there was a five-course rehearsal dinner scheduled for Friday night, and then she could have all the cake she wanted, as long as she could ignore the happy couple figurine perched on top. It would hurt like hell before it got better, she just had to wait, and it would all be fine.

  At least, that’s how it would normally go, with any other breakup. Any other man. Except something told her, this one was different.

  Something told her, Chase wouldn’t be so easy to forget.

  Letitia was just wondering if she should stop by the bakery and get an early start on that comfort-eating, when her phone buzzed. The caller ID was her assistant’s number, back at the office, so she quickly clicked it through to the car’s hands-free system. “Kelly, what’s up?”

  “They’re doing it today!” Kelly said. She was talking in a hushed voice, sounding frantic. “The board presentation, on the website acquisitions. The conference call is starting now!”

  “Wait, what?” Letitia couldn’t believe it. She checked the road was clear, and then wrenched the wheel, pulling over on the side of the road. She grabbed her phone. “There has to be some kind of mix-up,” she said, frantically scrolling through her emails in case she’d missed something. “We’re not supposed to be pitching the board until next month!”

  “I know,” Kelly gulped. “I wouldn’t even know, except Carter’s assistant copied me on the email – by mistake, I think. Apparently, your dad sent him your report, and Carter is moving ahead and presenting it today.”

  Presenting her research?

  “That weasel!” L
etitia saw red. He must have planned it this way, to sneak in while she was out of town, and claim all the glory. “Can you connect me to the call?” she asked urgently. “I have to be in the meeting.”

  “Doing it now.”

  Letitia waited to be connected, biting back her frustration as traffic whooshed past on the highway nearby. How was she supposed to make her pitch like this? She didn’t have her research, and she’d been planning on wowing them with a full presentation: slides, props, music… But there was no time to stew over Carter’s underhanded move, because suddenly, she was on the line with the entire Prescott executive board.

  She took a deep breath. “Hi everyone,” she said, trying to sound relaxed. “Sorry I’m late, just a few… technical difficulties.”

  “Letitia?” Carter sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you would make it. Too busy with wedding-planning,” he added a patronizing laugh, and Letitia was glad nobody could see her scowl.

  “Oh, you’re so funny,” she said, with a breezy laugh. “But you should know, the Prescotts are excellent multi-taskers.”

  “You must take after your father then,” Carter said, in a smarmy tone. “Isn’t that right, Arthur?”

  Letitia nearly dropped the phone. Her father was part of this meeting – and he hadn’t told her about it?

  “Indeed. Now that everyone’s here, how about we get started?” Arthur said. “Carter, why don’t you kick things off, and tell us about this proposal you sent out. It certainly looks impressive.”

  His proposal?

  “Actually, that was just an early draft of my findings,” Letitia interrupted. “I have some updated analysis that I can take you through. If you’ll look at page two…”

  She launched into bare-bones version of her pitch, hating that it wasn’t as polished as it could have been. But she was working on the fly, pulling figures from the notes on her phone, and off the top of her head, trying desperately to remember all of her best facts while secretly wishing she could throttle Carter for pulling a move like this.

  “…And you’ll see from the graphs, we can use the fashion sites to develop our relationship with female readers, eventually funneling them through to our other portfolio sites: news, entertainment, celebrity,” she finished, feeling more confident now. As she rounded up her final growth projections, Letitia wondered if she might actually pull this off. “So, in conclusion, I’d recommend that we move forward and acquire the sites, in the valuation range I’ve shown on page six.”

  She took a deep breath, her heart racing. Talk about a high-stakes wild card pitch! She wondered what the board would think if they knew she was stuck on the side of the road, trying to shield her handset every time a truck roared past.

  “Thank you, Letitia.” One of the board members spoke up. “It all sounds pretty straight-forward to me.”

  “What about these costs?” Another asked. “Are we locked into the current employee’s wages?”

  “Well, yes—” Letitia started to reply, but Carter interrupted her.

  “No, we’re planning on replacing the whole team. We don’t need any extra costs when we can just fold the sites into our existing portfolio.”

  Letitia’s jaw dropped. He wanted to buy the websites and then fire everyone?

  “That would be a terrible idea,” she couldn’t help but blurt. “I mean, the writing is why women trust the site. Without that voice, there’s no reason to keep it.”

  Carter chortled. “I think Letitia’s overstating things. It’s a great brand, but nobody cares what they write about. Tons of fashion and beauty companies will pay us just to publish articles about their products. It’s a win-win.”

  “But you’re missing the whole point,” Letitia said, fighting to stay calm. “If all we do is publish thinly veiled advertisements, nobody will trust us, and readership will plummet.”

  “Carter’s run me through the numbers,” Letitia’s father interrupted. “And I agree, the corporate partnerships are where our value lies, not reviews of nail polish and lipstick.” There were chuckles, before Arthur continued. “Now, Carter, why don’t you tell us more about the growth projections…”

  Carter started talking, as Letitia sat back in her seat, stunned. They really weren’t going to listen to a word she said. After all her research, painstakingly breaking down the numbers and finding the best way to do the deal, Carter just swept in and turned the whole thing upside down.

  And her father had let him.

  She started the engine, and got back on the road, only half-listening to the rest of the call as she drove over to where her parents were staying.

  Why had she wasted the past month on this? Was her father ever planning on taking her seriously, or had he always planned on snatching the credit away at the last minute?

  Her anger grew, and by the time she arrived and charged up the front path of their summer rental, Letitia was steaming mad.

  She hammered on the door.

  Her mom answered, looking surprised to see her. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here? I thought you would be at the salon by now, getting your roots touched up before the big event,” she added.

  “I need to talk to dad,” Letitia said, ignoring the veiled comment.

  “I think he’s working, but come on in.” Sylvie stood back, beckoning her inside. Letitia marched in, and found her father on the back patio, just wrapping up the call.

  “…So Carter, you’ll put together the offer, and we’ll circle back next week. Great work,” Arthur was saying, just as he saw Letitia. She waited, arms folded, as he promised one of the board members to get together for golf, and asked about another’s grandchild, and all the while, her frustration grew.

  What more did he want from her?

  This had been her chance to prove herself, and show her father that she deserved a seat at the table, and instead, they’d all pretended like she didn’t even exist.

  He hung up, and gave Letitia a smile like nothing was even wrong. “Hi darling. That went well, don’t you think?”

  She blinked, stunned. Had they been on entirely different calls?

  “I worked hard on that proposal!” she blurted, furious. “And you let Carter act like it was all his idea. Why didn’t you tell me the pitch got moved up?”

  Arthur cleared his throat. “It was all last minute,” he said vaguely.

  Letitia snorted. “You have your secretary plan your week down to the minute,” she reminded him. “You could have said something. Even if I only had an hour’s notice, it would have been better than trying to do it on the fly. Were you trying to shut me out?”

  “No…” he replied, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Dad, I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “You said you wanted me on the team.”

  “Your father didn’t tell you about the meeting, because I asked him not to.”

  Her mom’s voice made Letitia turn. “You did?” she said, staring at the two of them in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought you had enough on your plate, what with all the wedding plans.” Sylvie gave her an encouraging smile. “Plus, you looked like you were getting on so well with this Chase, I didn’t want to ruin your fun. Never mind business, you should be focusing on your personal life right now.”

  Letitia gaped. She couldn’t believe it.

  “Since you’re free now, we can call my stylist, and have her fit you in.” Her mom gave her a bright smile. “Maybe book a mani-pedi, too, so you’re all set for the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Arthur added, already looking at his phone. “Call me when you’re done, we have cocktails, remember? Maybe you can join us, Tish.”

  Were they serious?

  Letitia looked at them both, and suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “No!” she exclaimed loudly. They both took a step back in surprise, but Letitia wasn’t holding back and fixing on a smile. Not this time. “I don’t want my roots touched up, or a mani-pedi,
or to look my best for another goddamn cocktail hour. What I want is for you to start taking me seriously!” She exclaimed. “Do you even realize how much work I put in to that presentation?” she asked, turning on her father. “You’re the one who assigned me to the team. You said it was important. And I naively thought that if I did a good job, you’d finally recognize how hard I’m working, and how much I contribute that you don’t even notice.”

  Her parents looked stunned.

  “What more do you want from me?” she demanded, emotion rising in her chest. “Seriously, dad, just tell me and I’ll do it. Because I’ve tried everything to get your attention, and prove I’m up to the job. I got perfect grades, and an MBA, and I’ve been working at the Prescott Group for the past ten years. And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to put the hours in and prove myself,” she added, furious. “I love the business. It’s our family company, something we could share, but instead, you seem to forget that I’m a part of it altogether, you’re too busy passing me over for Cal, or Carter, or whoever else is the son you’ve never had!”

  Her father’s jaw dropped, and he began to speak, but Letitia’s blood was boiling, and she couldn’t have stopped if she tried. “So, what will it take for you to see me as more than just window dressing?” she demanded. “What do I have to do, aside from working day and night, coming up with great ideas that you just hand off to the next guy, because I’m clearly doing that already, and it’s not having any effect!”

  There was silence. Her dad was staring at her like she’d been taken over by alien body-snatchers, and even her mom looked aghast.

  Letitia shook her head. “When you figure it out, let me know. Because I’m not holding my breath anymore.”

  She turned and stormed back to her car. Her heart was pounding, adrenalin surging in her veins. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rear-view mirror – wild-eyed and breathless – and she had to laugh. She couldn’t believe she’d melted down like that. What happened to charm and persuasion? What happened to negotiating her way to success?

 

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