by C. M. Albert
“The Finance Times won’t look like an ass if you clear his name and talk about his bright future as a philanthropist, rather than focusing on where he is today.”
“I don’t really know what he plans to do with his future,” I said truthfully.
“Then I think you better go make a phone call. You have a deadline, I hear.”
I grinned. “That I do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Carter
“ARE YOU PUNKING me right now?” I asked in disbelief, staring back and forth between Veta, my pops, and his lawyer after a lengthy, unexpected conversation.
“No, son. Legally, I was supposed to wait until your thirtieth birthday to tell you all this, but with the way my health’s been going, we didn’t want to wait another day. And I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone other than me.”
“And I wouldn’t, Dad, because you’re going to be just fine. I’ll get you the best health care money can buy.”
He grimaced. “Sometimes, money’s not enough, Carter. But family is. And this was what your grandfather, Penn, wanted. It’s what he sacrificed everything for.”
I paced my dad’s small house, trying to wrap my head around what they’d just told me. I didn’t even know how to dissect everything, or how to feel about it yet. If what they said was true, I was about to become wealthier than I ever could have imagined. On the other hand, what did I really know about running a resort? I couldn’t wait to leave the property all those years ago. Would I have felt differently if I’d known that it would all be mine one day?
I shook my head, glancing at the lawyer. “Am I required to manage the property? Or can I hire that out like the Truitts?” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do yet, but I needed to understand my options.
“It’s yours, Carter. You can do whatever you want with it after it’s transferred over to you. But I suggest getting a personal financial manager immediately.”
“That’s an understatement,” I snorted. “Dad, why haven’t you taken more for yourself all these years, knowing this would all be passed down to me anyhow. You should’ve had more.”
“Carter, I had everything I wanted. I had a life I love in a place that’s always felt like home. With the woman I love,” he said, affectionately squeezing Veta’s hand. “By the way,” he choked out, holding Veta’s hand up for me to see, “we made it official while I was in the hospital.”
“Huh?” I looked at Veta’s hand and saw a small eternity band surrounded by diamonds. “You guys got hitched? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there!”
“Not everything’s about you, son. We’ve been wanting to do this for years. And I want Veta taken care of when I’m no longer here to do it myself. It wasn’t anything big. We just had a justice of the peace come to the hospital and do it bedside. Not the sexiest honeymoon, though,” he said, laughing.
“Dad,” I said, looking between them, at how happy they looked, “does that mean Veta’s finally going to move in?”
“If you’ll let her,” Pops said.
“What do you mean? It’s not my business where she lives.”
“But it will be. When I’m gone, I want her to stay in my house on the island. That technically belongs to the Truitts, which means it’ll belong to you in a few days.”
I ran a hand through my hair. Fuck There were a lot of trickle-down implications I knew I had to think through.
“What if I don’t want it?” I asked the lawyer.
“Why wouldn’t you want it, Carter?” my dad asked, incredulous. “Your grandfather left everything and everyone he loved so you could have it.”
“Yeah, but if he’d done everything on the up and up, he wouldn’t have had to, right? So, he should be praised as a hero after all this time?” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “A real man would’ve earned his money the right way. He wouldn’t have left those he loved behind. He would’ve cared more about people than money.”
“Wow, Carter, that must be easy for you to say, not knowing what your grandfather went through. Have you even bothered to read his journals yet?”
He knew damn well I hadn’t. Otherwise, I would’ve known about my inheritance a long time ago. “I grew up with nothing, Pops. I was made to feel less than by everyone. I just can’t help but wonder how different things might have been if The Grove was always ours. If I’d grown up running it, instead of running away from it.”
The room was quiet. My dad sat up in his bed, though it clearly strained him. “Son, you’re still young. You don’t have the benefit of looking back yet like I do. All I can say is you grew up exactly as you were meant to, and it’s made you into the capable, strong man you are today. Don’t just think about this inheritance from the money perspective. That’s never been what motivated you—which is why it’s definitely going in the right hands after all these years. Think about what you can do with the money, son. All the people you can help.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple.
“When you love someone, there’s nothing you won’t do for them. Penn did what he thought was right after making one wrong decision with the wrong men. It cost him everything. But he loved and trusted the Truitts. And they’ve honored this legal agreement all these years instead of contesting it. You will damn well appreciate the sacrifices made on your behalf. And you will hold your head up high and do whatever your heart calls you to do with your new wealth. But, please, don’t disrespect my father’s name.”
I hung my head in shame. He was right. Of course, he was right. “I’m sorry, Pops,” I said, going to his bedside. “I’m just processing all of this. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I know, son.”
“So, Dex—he’s the last Truitt, other than his kids. Does he know about this?” I asked, worrying how it would change our friendship.
“Of course he does, Carter. He was given copies of the trust a few weeks ago when he came down. The transfer paperwork has all been drawn up. There’s a board that oversees The Grove’s operations. You can be as much a part of that, or as little, as you want. I will stay on as the property manager for as long as I can, but I think you might need to have the board start looking for a replacement soon,” he said.
“Dad! Don’t say that.”
“Carter, be realistic. Cancer changes everything. I’m going to need treatments until I get this under control. If I’m able to get it under control. I don’t have the pep anymore to run around the property and be the Mr. Bob everyone expects. No one wants to come on vacation and see a broken-down old man hobbling around the property. It breaks the illusion of perfection and excess. I have a young man in mind I’d like to recommend. He’s been under my wing for a while now. He’s family through my adoptive parent’s siblings. I’ll put a good word in for him with the board. He has a lot of heart and works like a bear. He loves this place, just like I do. Been running around here since he was a kid.”
“You mean Scottie?”
“Yeah,” my dad said, “that’s him.”
I nodded. “I trust you, Dad.”
“Good. Then trust me when I say everything is as it’s meant to be now.”
I thought of Presley. The one thing I wanted more than anything else in my world and couldn’t have. She wouldn’t answer my calls. She ignored my texts. And I didn’t know how to make this right. I just knew that she was worth figuring it out for.
“Not everything, Pops. But it will be, soon.”
“Is this about that lady friend of yours?” Veta asked.
“Yeah. But she’s more than just a friend. And I lost her.”
“Then get her back,” Pops said, as if it was as easy as that.
“I was actually hoping to reintroduce you to her today, but I kinda messed things up,” I admitted, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Remember when I told you I ran into the Kincaids again, Dad? At Lauren’s wedding? Well, it turns out
Presley’s not so bad after all.”
“Of course she’s not,” he said fondly. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but Presley was always a special little girl. She had a light and kindness to her that not many other kids in her social group had. She was one of the few with parents who actually set a good example. If she turned out anything at all how I imagined she would, then I can see why you’d want to hold on to her.”
I was trying not to get too choked up, knowing my dad approved of Presley. I was determined to make sure he got to see her again before his health deteriorated any further. “I think I love her, Dad.”
“I know you do, Carter. You’ve never been like this over a woman before.”
“I’m gonna do everything I can to bring her home soon,” I promised.
As I drove back to the beach house, all I could think about was how it would soon be mine. But it didn’t even matter if I didn’t have Presley back there with me. It was too damn empty without her. Memories of our time together haunted me. And I was tired of living with her ghost.
That night I sat on the patio, staring up at the stars and dissecting my future. One thing was clear: I would move heaven and earth for another chance with Presley. All the money in the world didn’t matter if I didn’t have Miss Moneybags to spend it with.
I grinned.
All this time, and my future circled right back around to The Grove, and to bratty, little Presley Kincaid. What were the odds of that?
Even more, what were the odds that nothing in the world made me happier?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Presley
“THIS IS EXCEPTIONAL writing,” Sylvia said as I sat across from her in her spacious office. “I have to say, I was a little skeptical about running this piece after Carter made the news in such a splashy way,” she said.
That was the understatement of the year.
“But I can see why you fought so hard not only to keep him included in the feature, but to use it as an opportunity to clear his name. It helped that Victor didn’t press charges.”
“Thank you,” I said. I’d finished Carter’s piece and was glad I’d listened to my heart. I still hadn’t spoken with him yet about what happened, but I did know Carter’s heart. And my article reflected that while protecting his business as much as I could.
“I’ve reviewed the top three contenders, and I’m pleased to let you know that yours was selected for the lead article.”
I was excited. I truly was. This meant more positive exposure for Carter, and it would hopefully make things right there and set the record straight on what it meant to be a “stand-in.” But it didn’t make me as happy as I thought it would, professionally speaking.
“Thank you, Sylvia.”
“Well, aren’t you excited? This is a bottle-popping moment for your career, my dear. Feature stories are extremely hard to come by, especially at your age.”
She got up and uncorked a bottle of champagne, pouring me a glass. “Let’s toast to your future here, shall we?”
“Sylvia, I want to be upfront with you about something,” I said, not sure if I was shooting myself in the foot by being so honest. I hadn’t gotten the job yet at Montague, but the more I talked to Lauren and Richard about what it entailed, the more I wanted it. Badly.
“What is it, dear?” Sylvia asked, perched on the corner of her desk, her blood-red heels crossed at the ankles.
“I’m applying for another job,” I said. “I hope that doesn’t change your decision on the article. I think Carter’s story deserves to be on there. But I think there might be a better fit for me elsewhere after this.”
“I see,” she said. But she didn’t look like she really did. “You know you have a noncompete clause, right?”
“It’s not with another publisher,” I said truthfully.
“Do you mind me asking who it’s with then?”
“I’d rather not say. Not until I’m sure I got the job.”
“Does that mean you’re leaving either way?”
I hadn’t thought about it before now. But there was a spark of hope that burned through my chest when I thought about leaving and finding another place in the world for myself. Yes, I was helping people with my writing. But it wasn’t as numbers intensive as I’d thought it was going to be. I didn’t want to just write about finance, I wanted to live and breathe it. And the fact that I’d also be able to help charitable organizations in the process was a win-win for me.
“It does, Sylvia. I’m truly sorry. I know you put your neck out for me because of Lauren and my relationship with Bianca. I appreciate all of the opportunities you’ve given me here. I think maybe it’s just not my calling.”
“Well, you’re young enough to still follow your heart, aren’t you?” Sylvia said wistfully.
There was a story there, but stories were no longer my business. The only story I wanted to focus on was the one with me and Carter. And I had a happy ending I needed to go write.
“I GOT THE job!” I squealed over the phone to my stepmother a week later, even though she probably already knew—being married to my new boss and all.
“That’s wonderful, darling. When do you start?”
“Right away, I think. They are so short staffed, and Richard wants me to be a part of building my own team and laying out my thirty-, sixty-, ninety-day objectives for Montague Philanthropy’s financial division.”
“Well, if anyone can do it, I know you can, Presley. Your father would be so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Lauren. That means a lot to me.”
“I’m proud of you, too, for what it’s worth.”
“It’s worth a lot,” I said honestly.
“So, have you heard from Carter lately?”
“No,” I admitted. “He’s been down in South Carolina taking care of pressing business at The Grove. At least, that’s what Bianca and Dex are telling me.”
“Is he moving down there, then? To take care of his father?”
“I—I don’t know. He answered my last interview questions that I emailed to him for the article, but it was more on a business front than a personal one.”
“Presley, have you ever considered going to him?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, sometimes we have to fight hard for what we want. You’ve been miserable since everything went down with Carter. I know the past few weeks have flown by with Rico’s baby shower, finishing your article, and then getting a new job on top of that. But do those things really mean that much if you aren’t happy?”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” I nearly shouted into the phone.
“Presley Baker Kincaid,” Lauren said over the line, “there is no need to take a tone with me. That’s beneath you.”
I sighed in frustration. “Look, Lauren, I’ve never needed a man to make me happy, okay? I’m just not built the way you are.”
Oops.
“Is that what you really think of me, Presley?”
Yes. “No, not really.” A little, maybe?
“Presley, I loved your father so much, but I wasn’t the one who pursued him. He came with a lot of baggage—and I don’t mean you,” she clarified. “He loved your mother so damn much. How could I compete with that? But the more time I spent with him, the more joy I felt from being a part of a family. Did I have joy before that? Of course, I did. I was a successful interior designer. I loved my career. But I loved your father more. We were happiest when we were together.”
“I remember,” I said, trying not to get too emotional.
“He believed in love so much he was willing to open his heart again, even after he was devastated over the loss of your mother. You have a whole life ahead of yourself, Presley. I know you don’t need Carter, or any man, to make you happy. But ask yourself: Does he enrich my life? Am I more joyful when he’s around? Can w
e be happier, live our best lives, if we were together? Do we lift each other up?”
“Wow, Lauren . . . I didn’t know you had this in you.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Presley,” she said coyly.
“Are you happier with Richard now?”
“I am,” she said truthfully. “Your dad taught me a lot about the human heart’s capacity for more love. I owe it to myself to experience it again. A life with love is never wasted.”
“I hear you, Lauren. And I really appreciate the pep talk. I needed this today.”
“That’s what moms are for, dear. Just because your dad isn’t with us anymore, and I’m Lauren Brash now, doesn’t mean my heart isn’t big enough for you, too.”
Oh. Wow. I will not cry. I will not cry.
“Thanks, Lauren. I’ve got enough in mine for you, too,” I said. “And Carter. Definitely Carter.”
Lauren laughed, then we spent the next half hour plotting.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Carter
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO you,” they sang. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Carter. Happy birthday to yooooou!”
I closed my eyes and blew out my candles. All thirty of them.
I glanced around at all the people in my life who meant the world to me. There was only one person missing—perhaps the most important one of all.
“What are you going to do now that you’re almost a billionaire, and just a hair over thirty?” Dex asked, clapping me on the back.
“Send out eviction notices?” I teased.
“Fair enough.”
“I’m just kidding, Dex. You know you, Bianca, and the kids are welcome to keep the house here. Or any other house at The Grove if you want.”
“There’s actually one near the main house that I’ve always loved,” he said. “We could be neighbors. Maybe our kids could grow up together and vacation here in the summers.”
