Advice from a Jilted Bride

by Rayne, Piper

“Mind me asking what his excuse was?” He pours another drink, but I wave him off. If I get drunk tonight work will suck tomorrow.

  I shrug. “He had a lot of excuses which to me means he was grabbing at straws because I am perfect.” I bat my eyelashes.

  A slow smile forms on his lips. “Clearly.”

  Now I’m smiling and I want to jump into his arms and thank him for being such a great friend. Would I have recovered from this so quickly if not for Wyatt? I don’t know.

  “Truthfully, he had a few points though,” I say.

  “Name one?” He rests his feet on the coffee table, getting comfortable.

  “Well, when he met me, I didn’t want to come back to Lake Starlight after graduation. The me back then would’ve moved with him to San Francisco.”

  “And?” He sips his own drink now instead of downing it like a shot.

  “He’s right.” I shrug.

  “But you changed?”

  I nod.

  “People change.” Now he shrugs.

  “Yeah, but… there’s a reason for my change.”

  Wyatt doesn’t say anything, patiently waiting for me to share more.

  “My parents had died two years before I went to college. When I got there it felt like a fresh start, you know? No one knew me as Brooklyn Bailey, the girl who lost both her parents. It was so refreshing, I felt like I could reinvent myself. And I kind of did.” I look up from knotting my fingers in my lap. Wyatt’s listening intently like always. “I never wanted that feeling to end. Jeff met me right in the middle of that phase of my life, but then right before graduation, I knew I had to come home. I couldn’t leave Austin and Savannah to hold the family together on their own. I was the third eldest, so I told Jeff we’d move here temporarily.”

  “But…”

  “Once I got here, Austin was in a good groove after Rome and Denver left for college. Savannah was turning the company around. They didn’t need me, and the town had settled after the accident, no longer looking at the Bailey kids with pity. I slowly started to remember why I loved it here and why I wanted to raise my kids here.”

  “So, staying here is important to you?”

  I nod. “I think so, but then I wonder if maybe I just didn’t love Jeff enough. Maybe if it was someone else…”

  He sips his drink, his gaze leaving mine for the first time in our conversation. “I guess you won’t know until you’re in that situation again.” Something passes over his face, but when his eyes catch mine, he smiles as though he’s masking something.

  “Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?”

  “It can wait. Jeff coming tonight is enough for you to deal with.” He downs the rest of his drink and places the glass on the table. “I just wanted to check on you. I’ll make myself scarce now that I know you’re doing so great.”

  “No.” I stand and sit on the couch next to him. “Tell me.” I touch his forearm to keep him where he is and heat travels from my fingertips up my arm.

  He sits straighter, and now it’s his hands knotting in between his legs. He stares at me and that peaceful feeling that had started to settle in my body and mind twitches because in all the months I’ve hung out with Wyatt I’ve never seen this look on his face. He seems… nervous.

  “I like what’s developing between us.”

  “Me too, but with you being my boss how will that affect our jobs if…”

  He nods and raises his hand for me to stop.

  I stiffen, preparing for disappointment once again.

  Twenty-Seven

  Wyatt

  “That’s the something I needed to talk to you about.”

  “Oh.” She straightens her back and inhales a breath as though she’s physically preparing herself for bad news.

  Well, it is bad news. I should be on the other side of the room to deliver this news. She’s got an arm I’m already familiar with. I look around for any books within her grasp and breathe a small sigh of relief when I don’t see any.

  “Regarding the whole boss thing. I signed a contract that says I can’t be in a romantic relationship with any of the employees.”

  Her face falls, but she recovers quickly. “So, one of us would be fired?”

  You, you would be fired, I think to myself.

  “There’s more.”

  “Okay…”

  I know she won’t see this coming. I mean my dad checked everything off. My name was stripped from the company website. I grew this scruff just to disguise myself although I don’t think it does a great job. Then again did no one Google my father’s name? Our family photos would be easy enough to find. But people here take you for your word. They don’t automatically assume people are lying.

  I grab her hands. “My name is Wyatt…”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “Obviously.” When she notices I’m not laughing, her face drops.

  “My last name isn’t Moore, it’s Whitmore.”

  Her face tilts, a chunk of hair falling in front of her eyes. “Whitmore?”

  I nod.

  “As in…”

  “Whitmore Hotels. My dad is the owner of the company.”

  Her hands grow cold and limp in mine before she pulls them away from me.

  “You lied?” The question is so quiet, for a second, I wonder if I really heard it. But the way every muscle in her face falls at the same time, I know my mind isn’t playing tricks on me.

  “My dad wanted me to come here and work my way up. Appraise the hotel and figure out what did and didn’t work. Have a hand in figuring out what needs to be done to make it a success again. The only person who knows who I really am is Mr. Clayton. And now you.”

  “And you’re going to be the manager of the hotel?”

  I hadn’t anticipated that question.

  “Until I get it up and running and then someone else will come in to take over and I’ll go back to New York.”

  She picks up the bottle of Jack, pours a shot and downs it. Pours another and downs it.

  “You’re upset.” I say like the idiotic man I am.

  “Me? No. I’m not upset.” She downs another shot with a grimace then holds her hand over her stomach. “I mean you’re a millionaire pretending to be a regular Joe. You’ve weaved yourself through my life knowing you were going to leave. Why would I be upset?” She pauses for another refill of whiskey but doesn’t throw it back yet. At this point, I’ll be carrying her to bed. “How convenient that you moved across the hall from me.”

  She turns away from me but stays on the couch.

  “That was purely a coincidence. Believe me, I wish you didn’t work for Whitmore Hotels.”

  She glances over. “That’s funny, I still think of it as Glacier Point, but tell me, Wyatt Whitmore, what are the plans for the resort?” Her eyes are laser focused on me, though I can see the effects of the alcohol starting to bear down on her.

  Her sweet smile and gentle manner have been stripped away with me divulging my real name.

  “I… Um… Well… I’m figuring out what’s been working and what needs improving.” I stutter through my response. When I figured I needed to come clean, I didn’t prepare myself for this round of questioning. I kind of thought she’d either jump my bones or kick me out. I never thought she’d want to know my specific plans for the hotel.

  “And the employees?”

  “New guidelines are going into place.”

  Her eyes narrow. Those beautiful big blue eyes aren’t so endearing at the moment, they’re kind of scary.

  “New guidelines? Like the whole write up thing?”

  I raise my eyebrows. News travels fast and I can only assume Mr. Clayton is where this game of telephone began.

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t do that, Wyatt. There are people who have been working there forever. Just because they’re going through a hard time doesn’t mean you can make it harder by getting them fired. Or… I guess in your case, firing them yourself.”

  I hate this feeling in
the pit of my stomach—like I’m disappointing her. “I’m not sure what you want from me. I’m trying to be honest here.”

  “Honest would have been you coming here the first day and saying, ‘Oh I’m not only your boss, I’m the owner.’”

  “I’m not the owner. This is my dad’s stupid plan. He’s always…” I let my words trail off. I’m not going to delve into my issues with my father right now.

  She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I think I need to be alone.”

  “Really? We can’t figure this out here and now?”

  Her arms drop and she stares over to me. “What exactly are you looking for with me? A fling while you’re here? Some fuck buddy for when you have to come into town to check on the hotel?”

  I blink several times. I’m thrown by her remarks. I knew our attraction was growing, and hell yes, I want to sleep with Brooklyn. What heterosexual male wouldn’t? But I guess I never thought too much about the fact that I’m leaving because I had the whole ‘who I really am’ thing hanging over my head the whole time.

  “I don’t know. I just enjoy spending time with you.”

  She pours another shot of Jack for me and grabs the last one she never drank. “Let’s play a little game of I never.”

  “I’m not playing some college drinking game.”

  She downs the shot. “Funny. I figured you’d be up for it since you seem to like playing games.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath. “I’m putting a lot on the line. If you tell someone or someone finds out who I am, my dad will retract his promise to me.”

  “Promise huh? Tell me, what do you get for slumming it in this small town?”

  I shake my head. “That’s a tad dramatic.”

  She shrugs one shoulder and crosses her legs, propping her elbow on her knee, holding her chin waiting for my reply.

  “I’ve been promised one of the chains of hotels.”

  Her eyes widen. “Wow, you must be so excited.” She stands, though a little wobbly, and walks into the kitchen, opening the cupboards, looking for something. “So, what do you have to do to earn this chain?”

  “I have to work my way through Glacier Point and report back to him with a plan. If I can figure out a way to get the resort back in the black, he’ll consider it a success.”

  “Huh.” She opens a bag of Oreos and drops a whole one in her mouth then stares at me while she chews.

  “I had no choice but to keep my real name a secret, but everything you know about me is real.”

  “Except for the number of zeros in your bank account and the fact you’ll be putting a forwarding address in at the post office soon.” Another Oreo goes into her mouth.

  “Well, yeah, but I still have months left here. Who knows what could happen between us…”

  What am I saying? That I’d take her back to New York with me? I’m not that guy. I don’t want to do to her what my father’s done to my mother my whole life—left her waiting until he was finished with whatever business he had to attend to and expecting her to be there when it suited him.

  “Nothing is going to happen now.” A third Oreo makes its way into her mouth.

  “It’s not?” I stand and make my way closer to the kitchen.

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right? Did you think I’d subject myself to heartbreak, knowing you’re leaving? Especially after Jeff?”

  I rest my hands on the top of her kitchen chair not sure what to say.

  “It might be easy for you to sleep with someone and not care at all, but it’s not for me.”

  A fourth Oreo now. I want to tell her she’s got some black crumbs around her mouth, but I’m not putting myself in the ring to get knocked out.

  “Fine. We won’t sleep together.” I raise my hands.

  “Fine. We’re on the same page.” She covers the Oreos and puts them back in the cupboard. “You can leave now,” she says more to the cupboard door than to me because her back is still to me while she stares straight ahead, hand still on the knob.

  “But you won’t, right? Tell anyone I mean.”

  If her eyes shot missiles, I’d be in little chunks all over her apartment the way she looks at me over her shoulder.

  “I’m just asking because if my cover is blown—”

  “Just go!” she yells, so I make my way over to her door and leave.

  I want to blame my dad for putting me in a shitty position, but this is on me. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Brooklyn Bailey from the get-go.

  Twenty-Eight

  Brooklyn

  There are few people I can trust with my newfound knowledge, but I need to talk to someone before I self-destruct or join the nunnery. Reagan is out since she works with me, so I go with the next best thing.

  I pick up my phone and wait on the line, tapping my fingers.

  “Hey,” Rome answers.

  “Can we meet up to talk?”

  “Uh oh. Do I need to kick Wyatt’s ass?” He turns down the radio in the background.

  “No, but you need to keep a secret.”

  He laughs. “You know I’m the Bailey vault.”

  “Um… not so much about Jeff taking our honeymoon with another girl.”

  “That was extenuating circumstances and Denver would’ve been pissed if I had all the fun myself.”

  “And Liam?”

  “We’re practically triplets.” He laughs. “I’m down at the restaurant, trying to rehab part of it myself. Lucky for you, Denver got called away and Liam is with some chick.”

  “Do you have any other friends?”

  He laughs again. His big hearty and good-natured laugh that makes me feel a bit better. “No.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  I hang up and grab my jacket and my keys. I’m almost out the door before I head back and snatch the Oreos from the cabinet. I’m a stress eater. Leave me alone.

  By the time I open the door to Rome’s new restaurant just off Main Street, it’s pretty late, but since this is Alaska it’s not dark yet.

  “Hello?” I call out when I enter but Rome can’t hear me since he’s banging away with Linkin Park blaring.

  I take one more glimpse through the big front windows and wind through to the back of the restaurant.

  Rome is shirtless, slashing at a cabinet with a sledgehammer.

  I pick up his phone and lower the volume.

  “Hey, Brookie.” He grabs his white t-shirt and wipes his forehead, walking over to me. “Want a beer?” He opens a refrigerator and pulls two out.

  “No. I rode my bike over because I’ve drank too much Jack.”

  He jumps on to a cabinet, popping the cap of the beer bottle off. “I thought Wyatt was supposed to be your bodyguard?”

  I pick up a wad of paper and throw it at him. He laughs when it falls in front of him, tilting his head back and sipping his beer.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “You know Wyatt’s helped me a lot.”

  “Whoa!” He holds up his one hand. “If we’re talking help in the bedroom, it’s a hard no, Brooklyn. You gotta go to Savannah, er, Juno… maybe go to Holly, she’s up for sleeping with strangers in their car.”

  Poor Holly will never live that down.

  “No. It’s not bedroom stuff.” I stick my tongue out at him.

  He drops his hand. “Then carry on.”

  “He’s not Wyatt Moore, he’s Wyatt Whitmore.”

  It takes Rome a second before he nods in understanding. “As in—”

  “Yep.”

  Although it was big news that Mr. Clayton sold a few months ago since he’s still involved in the daily operation of the place no one feels like much has changed.

  He tips his beer back. “You sure you don’t want one? I’ll drive you home.”

  I shake my head, hopping up on the counter and stuffing my hands under my thighs.

  “Well, he’s your boss. He already was though, right?” He shrugs a shoulder.

  “Now h
e’s not just the boss, he’s the owner.” I clarify even though that’s not the entire problem.

  “He owns Whitmore hotels?”

  “His dad does.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I was gonna say he’s young, but then I’m sure one of us would have taken the reigns from dad at some point if he wouldn’t have died. Probably still would’ve been Savannah but who knows.”

  “Okay, so, you need to keep that under wraps. He’s here as a way to see how the hotel is operating and what needs improvement. I guess his dad figured they’ll get the real story if Wyatt doesn’t say who he is.”

  “This is the easiest secret to keep because I don't give a shit.” His eyes stay on me. “But I’m thinking that’s not the reason you’re here.”

  “It’s not.”

  “You like him?”

  I nod.

  “And what? You’re afraid Reagan and Neil are going to be upset that you’re dating the owner?”

  “No.” I stare off anywhere but at him. “He’s not staying in Lake Starlight. He’s leaving once he’s done with his assignment. Moving back to New York.”

  “Aah. Gotcha.” He hops off the counter, throwing his beer into the recycling bin. “So, this is more about the fact that you have feelings for him, and he just told you that he’s leaving.”

  “Not that I think we’re like fated to be together forever, but…”

  He quirks his lips to one side as he looks over his shoulder at me. Yeah, I’m not Rome. Or Denver. Or Liam. Hell, even our most responsible Bailey, Austin had one-night stands, but I’ve never had one. Truth is I don’t want one.

  I’d love nothing more than to have the weight of Wyatt’s body over mine. To feel his gentle caresses and the scruff of his beard along my skin. But I can’t do that knowing for certain that it’s headed nowhere.

  “Some of us are just better at the whole leaving thing.”

  “Why though? Why can’t I just say screw it, let’s have fun while you’re here?”

  He laughs, putting on his safety glasses and using a crowbar to pull up molding at the base of the cabinets. “That’s not you. Plus, if you sleep with him, do it right before he leaves, not months before. You’re a girl which means feelings come with sex. Better not to leave time for those feelings to fester.”