The Harper's Island Duet

by Zane Morrow

  “Coffee will be here shortly.” He turns and settles himself on the couch.

  “Awesome.” I massage my temples. Drinking as much as I did last night was a terrible idea. Blake answers a knock at the door, and a uniformed waiter rolls in a cart loaded with coffee and covered dishes of some kind. I smell bacon, and can’t help but smile, despite the early morning.

  Blake pours me a cup of coffee, and we enjoy it in silence. Then he begins uncovering dishes to reveal an assortment of breakfast food. “I made sure there was a little of everything. I don’t know what you like yet.”

  His wording strikes me. It implies a continuation of whatever is between us. My heart pounds as I imagine more nights like last night. “Thanks, that’s really nice.” I speak awkwardly, like we’re on our first date instead of our first morning after. I’m grossly out of practice and can barely handle being in his presence. Why did I stay? Why didn’t I return to my room? Oh, yeah. Brett has my key. Of course, I doubt anyone has my bed, which is of little consolation, since they probably are still going at it like rabbits.

  “Have you had enough caffeine to discuss a proposition?” Blake eyes me seriously.

  I sink down in the nearest chair. “Um sure, I guess.” Only I’m not sure at all. My heart is suddenly in my throat and my palms are so sweaty, I have to set my mug down on the coffee table because it’s slipping in my fingers.

  “I know Trent bought Camp Hope a year.” He begins speaking carefully, his pace so slow I want to snap my fingers at him and urge him on, but instead I wait patiently, curled up in the chair. “There won’t be a second year.”

  “You can’t know this.” I interrupt and the look on his face silences me.

  “I can know this.” He nods solemnly. “I’m not sure what you’re feeling is truly devotion. I rather believe it’s fear.” Blake leans forward on the couch and rubs his palms together as he plans what to say. Finally, his eyes meet mine and I begin to tremble. “You don’t have to be afraid of what will become of you, Grace. I’ll take care of you.”

  My brow furrows. “I don’t understand.” My mind races at the possibilities.

  “Miss Milly wants to see us married. She wants you installed as the Princess, the future queen.” He studies me while inhaling deeply.

  “What do you mean? We’ll get married?” I lay a hand on my heart. I never wanted it, but after the passion between us last night, I’m not as opposed to the idea as I had been previously.

  “Well, no. Not exactly.” Blake stares at the carpet a moment. It takes everything in me to not shout. Patience has never been one of my virtues. At last he lifts his coffee from the end table and takes a sip. “For all practical purposes, yes. I’ll buy you a place, near me. We’ll go out publicly. And privately, it will be much like last night.” He grins, convinced he has won me over with his practical proposal.

  I sit in stunned silence. Instead of marrying me or even dating me, he plans to set me up to be his mistress. Never in my life have I been so hurt, so disappointed, so utterly insulted and humiliated. “So you want me to move to a place near you once Camp Hope closes?”

  “Yes.” He nods enthusiastically, confident he has presented me with the deal of a lifetime.

  My blood boils, but more than that, tears sting my eyes. I stand and storm towards the door. For a split second, I stop a few feet from him. I open my mouth to speak, but I’m too afraid of what I’ll say, too scared I’ll cry in front of him and my humiliation will be complete.

  “Grace? Say something.” He stands and starts to close the distance between us.

  Laying my forehead against the door, I blink back tears before I turn and confront him. I lick my lips and face him. “You sure you want me to say something?”

  He holds his hands out to me, but soon they drop to his sides, falling like his face. “Please.”

  “Fine. I’ll say something.” I blow out a breath. “Fuck you, Blake Morgan.” I watch what was left of the hopeful look in his eyes crumble. “That’s right. Fuck. You. I’m not some common whore.” I shake my head. “Thank you for reminding me why I despise you.” My eyes narrow. “Most of all, thank you for strengthening my resolve to save the camp.” My nostrils flare and my voice lowers. “Now you can take your offer and shove it straight up your ass. Got it?”

  Blake won’t look at me. Instead, he takes a step back and sinks onto the couch behind him. I turn and fling the door open, strut through it, and stomp down the hall to my room. I don’t care that they’re probably sleeping. I’m not concerned with their happiness or comfort at the moment. I need to get out of here, go home, lick my wounds, and try to figure out how I can face him tomorrow at the wedding.

  As soon as I’m in front of my room, I pound on the door. Brett opens it, and I brush past him, rushing to my bag. Without saying a word, I begin throwing all my stuff inside.

  “Is everything okay, Grace?” Brett asks cautiously.

  “Your brother is a complete douchebag.” The tears I’d tried so valiantly to hide are now rolling down my cheeks.

  He looks stricken. I’m not a crier. “What did he do?”

  “Ask him. I don’t want to talk about it.” I shake my head and attempt to dry my cheeks. I glance around the room and realize, once I hear water running in the bathroom, my best friend must be in the shower. “Tell Brooke I’ll see her at the rehearsal tonight.”

  Brett reaches out to stop me, but I hold up my hands and blow past him again. The elevator was already on our floor, so I manage to make a quick exit from the floor and a fast escape through the lobby to the parking lot. For the first time since I’ve lived on Harper’s Island, I don’t care about my attire. For the first time since I’ve been named Princess, I ignore convention. The only thing I care about is getting as far away from Blake as I can. If I didn’t have the wedding rehearsal later and the wedding tomorrow, I’d leave the Island.

  13

  By the time I had to report for the rehearsal, I was numb. I’d made sure to hire a driver because I needed a few drinks before I could be around Blake again. Taking a few steadying breaths, I walked into the church. Practically the entire wedding party had arrived. By this, I mean everyone but the best man had arrived.

  “There she is.” Brooke exhaled. “We can begin now.”

  “Without…” I gestured to the empty space beside Brett.

  “Oh, business. He’ll be here tomorrow.” Brooke shrugged.

  A reprieve. My shoulders sagged and for the first time since I’d dressed for the evening, I could breathe and enjoy my best friend’s last night as a single lady. The minister was confident in our abilities to walk at the appropriate pace. Having been a bridesmaid on more than one occasion, I had my part down.

  Finally, we were released to enjoy the rehearsal dinner and drinks. Maybe I’d just stay pleasantly buzzed until after the wedding. I stared out the window of the town car.

  “What are you thinking?” Brooke reached over and jabbed me in the thigh.

  I shook my head. “Nothing,” I lied.

  “Something happened. You ready to talk yet?” I took too long to respond, so she poked me again. “Come on, Grace. I can do this all night.”

  “He propositioned me.” I peeked at her face and saw her frown.

  She shook her head. “I kinda thought you two slept together.”

  “Oh, we did. And then he tried to set me up as his mistress.” I shrugged like it was no big deal.

  “Grace…” She hissed my name.

  “Right? It’s a damn shame because I was just starting to tolerate the guy.” I blew out a breath and avoided meeting her stare.

  Reaching over, she grabbed my hand, then leaned over and dropped her head onto my shoulder. “You slept together, Grace. I know you. It means something.”

  I sniffle. “But not to him. So...that.”

  “He’s an asshole. He doesn’t deserve you.” Brooke murmurs words of comfort and they sort of work.

  I grab for my glass of champagne. “This is your n
ight. And tomorrow is your day. We’ll deal with my bullshit later. Okay?”

  Brooke purses her lips and I can tell she’s considering it. “Okay, but we’re not dropping this. You matter. Your feelings matter.”

  I nod in agreement as I down the rest of my glass.

  The next morning, I roll out of bed with a headache. Soon enough we’d be getting ready in the bridal suite at the inn while downing mimosas. This couldn’t happen fast enough for my liking. So, I showered and gather my dress, shoes, makeup, and purse before rushing to my car.

  On my drive over to the inn, I’d worked on my game face. There’s no way I’m going to let Blake see he hurt me. I’m going to be the best damn maid of honor ever.

  “How are you?” Brooke asks as I enter the suite.

  “Whoa. Not as good as you. You look amazing.” I paste a grin on my face.

  She eyes me curiously, then nods. “Okay. So my day. Not your turn. Got it. Well, in that case, hurry up and get dressed. It’s your turn for hair and makeup.”

  The morning passed in a blur. The next thing I know, we’re walking down the aisle and I’m doing everything in my power to ignore his existence. We don’t make eye contact on my way to the altar. We don’t exchange looks while the happy couple exchanged rings. We barely touch as we stroll down the aisle behind the newlyweds. In the receiving line, I manage to stick another bridesmaid between us. When we load into the limo for the ride to the reception, I sit on the other side of Brooke, happily squished into a corner.

  In fact, I perform like a pro. He’s clearly disturbed because he pulls me into an alcove at the reception site while we’re waiting to be introduced. “This is for you,” he murmurs as he stuffs an envelope into my hand. I grip it for a moment, weighing it in my palm.

  “I swear to God, if I open this and discover money, you’ll be holding a filet to your eye.” My chin juts out as I glare at him.

  Blake chuckles. “It’s not cash. It’s not a check. It’s a deed.” He sighs heavily. “I treated you badly, Grace. I know it.”

  “So you think buying me a place will help smooth things over between us.” I can barely hide my fury.

  With a shake of his head, Blake begins to explain. “It’s not like that, Princess. The camp. Camp Hope. It’s yours.”

  I’m trying to process what he said when the DJ calls out our names. I open my mouth, but he frowns.

  “I guess we’ll have to finish this later.” He holds out his arm. “Come on.”

  We walk into the reception and Blake helps me take my place to the left of the bride at the head table. There are spoons tapping on glasses and soon Brett and Brooke are kissing. For a moment, when I glance in Blake’s direction, I think I see regret in his eyes and maybe a bit of longing. I understand. I feel it too.

  Tears burn my eyes, but more than that, I want to study the deed. I need to know what it says. I have to see it, to know it’s real. “Will you excuse me?” I whisper in Brooke’s ear.

  She nods, but looks confused as I pick up the envelope and exit the ballroom, waltzing through the patio doors out to the garden. I find a low wall and sit on it as I peel back the flap.

  “Whatcha have there?” Shelby asks as she comes and sits beside me.

  “Oh. I’m not sure yet.” I bit my lip as I pull the thick folded papers out. I read quickly while Shelby peers over my shoulder.

  “Is that a deed?” She nearly shrieks.

  I jump and lay a hand against my chest. “Looks like it. Here. You tell me.” I know Shelby won’t steer me wrong. She and her husband have a long love affair with the camp.

  At first she frowns, then she scowls and the anger on her face is more evident with each flit of her eyes across the page. “So it appears my son would like to give you Camp Hope.” Shelby grips the papers tightly and her hand falls to her lap.

  My eyes are wide, a combination of hope and fear. “Yes. That’s what he said.” I bite my cheek.

  “Well, sadly, he can’t.” She shakes her head.

  “Oh really.” Blake saunters over. “I’m the acting CEO. Who says I can’t do with our assets what I want?”

  Shelby sighs angrily. “Me. The majority stockholder, head of the board, the one who truly owns this company. Next question.”

  He splutters for a minute. “I’d think you’d be pleased, Mother. After all, by giving it to Grace, I’m saving the camp.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

  Shelby stands and moves to stand before her son. “Yes, but no matter how pleased I might be, you can’t give away something you don’t own, Blake.” She shakes her head before she turns to me. “I’m sorry, Grace. I know this is disappointing.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” I mutter.

  “True, but I will.” She crosses her arms over her chest a moment and glances back and forth between us. “I’ll see you both in the office on Monday.”

  “Both?” I frown.

  “Yes. We’ll have an emergency board meeting. Shouldn’t be too hard to organize.” She stares into the ballroom and laughs. “You know, since the entire board is already here for the wedding.”

  “Oh.” I blow out a breath.

  “See you on Monday. Nine in the morning. Don’t be late.” Shelby lays a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Grace. We’ll figure this out.” She winks at me then glides across the stone patio and enters the building once more.

  “This is a fine mess.” I scowl.

  Blake sits beside me. When I don’t stiffen or move away, he throws an arm around my shoulder, leans in and kisses my temple. I want to melt into it, but I remember how badly he hurt me just the day before. “You heard my mother. We’ll work it out.” He pulls back and smiles. “She loves you, Grace. I’m the one who should be worried.”

  The Princess, Book Two

  The Princess

  Harper’s Island Duet, Book Two

  By

  Zane Morrow

  Copyright © 2017 by Zane Morrow

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Marisa Shor of Cover Me, Darling

  Formatting by: Love Kissed Books

  Created with Vellum

  14

  Though I tried to engage Grace in conversation, she excused herself and rushed inside. Later I caught her talking with Brooke. I could actually feel the turmoil within her. Being close had my stomach rolling. Or maybe the churning came from the alcohol. I’d definitely ingested an inordinate amount of late. What else could I possibly do to survive this antiquated ritual my brother had insisted upon experiencing? Of course, there was the possibility the wedding was all his new wife’s fault. I narrowed my eyes and studied her while tugging at my chin. Yes, she seemed not only the marrying type, but the big church wedding huge reception type as well. What of her best friend though? Was Grace determined to marry? Was this why she was so put off by my practical suggestion we maintain our relationship posthaste once the camp closed not only for the summer, but for good.

  This time, butterflies. The idea of no more Camp Hope made me nearly giddy. Too bad the source of my joy brought her so much grief. There was a possibility if we talked, she might understand my problems with the place. Naturally, the prospect of getting all in touch with my feelings around the woman who intrigued me soured my mood.

  Turning on my heels, I stalked out of the room and returned to the gardens. The fresh air might give me a fresh perspective. The quiet and alone time would definitely soothe my nerves. When I reached the bridge over the koi pond and leaned on the railing, a voice broke the silence.

  “I heard you tried to give Grace the camp.” Trent’s voice was low and I co
uldn’t quite detect his mood from the tone.

  Slowly, I shifted and glanced his way. “What of it?” I laced my fingers and stared at the water, willing the fluid motions of the fish to calm me.

  Trent moved closer, stepping up onto the arched bridge and stopping less than a foot from me. “The move surprised me I guess.” He chuckled and shook his head. “We’re still competing, I see.”

  My brows arched. “Do you? Because I don’t.” I set my jaw and straightened some to grip the railing. My knuckles turned white as I struggled to hide my irritation.

  He gestured to my hands. “Oh, I think you do. Look at you. The pissed off little boy has grown into an angry man.” Trent’s eyes flashed while he smirked at me. “No wonder Ben spent so much time with me.” He leaned closer and sneered. “No wonder he spent so little time with you.”

  My chest tightened. Suddenly, I felt like my lungs refused to fill with air. There was more than a little truth to his words. The problem, however, came from the facts. Did he know? Did he suspect? I looked away and refused to meet his eyes. There was a distinct possibility if I looked at him, I’d be sorely tempted to break his nose. As my mind raced to find a solution, a way out of this situation while saving face, another voice broke the tension in the air.

  “Well, I never expected to find you two together.”

  I whipped around, grateful to hear Grace’s voice. She stood on the cobbled path a few feet from us. For a moment, I willed her to look at me. If I could simply stare into her eyes, a calm would wash over me. I knew it intrinsically. After all, the other night, she had been Xanax in human form. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed and at ease in my own skin.

  “So good to see you, Grace,” Trent murmured as he leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek.