by Lucie Ulrich
Diamonds or Donuts
by Lucie Ulrich
Published by Clean Reads
www.cleanreads.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
DIAMONDS OR DONUTS
Copyright © 2015 LUCIE ULRICH
ISBN 978-1-62135-406-2
Cover Art Designed by AM DESIGN STUDIOS
To my husband, Rick,
daughter, Jamie,
and son, Josh.
Your love and support are beyond measure, and I treasure you all.
Thank you, Karla Brandenburg, Emily Rushton, Jan Kaess, and Deb VonderHeide for reading and critiquing. You helped me polish this story so that is shines like the diamond in its title.
CHAPTER ONE
Sarah Alexander parked in front of the mansion. Checking the visor mirror, she reapplied some lip gloss, then took her red hair out of its ponytail and ran a brush through it. Out of the car, she dusted cookie crumbs—courtesy of one of her students—from her pants and hurried up the front steps.
The doorbell chimed and within seconds, a butler opened one of the two massive carved doors. It didn’t matter that Sarah had been here at least a half dozen times. The sight of a real live butler always tickled her.
“Hello, Charles. How are you doing today?”
Charles, short, stout, and bald, bowed slightly at the waist, a hint of smile creasing his usually stoic face. “Very well, Miss Sarah. Thank you for asking. Mrs. Montgomery is waiting for you on the lanai.” He gestured with his hand toward the back of the house. “Please follow me.”
“Don’t trouble yourself. I know the way.” She waved and hurried through the large foyer to the other side of the expansive living room. The French doors were open and the grande dame herself sat ramrod-straight at the glass and wrought-iron patio table. Her blond hair, just a little darker than Logan’s, was swept up into a low chignon—a look that accentuated her swan-like neck and regal chin.
Abigail Montgomery didn’t rise, not that Sarah expected her to. She merely nodded. “Good afternoon, Sarah. I’m glad you could make it.”
Sarah would have laughed, only that wouldn’t go over well with Abigail. Her invitations were more like summonses and one didn’t stand up the lady of the manor without a valid excuse. Twisting the two-and-a-half-karat round diamond solitaire on her finger, Sarah mustered a smile. “Today was an early release day, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Have a seat.” Abigail pointed to the chair next to her. “Would you like some tea? Or lemonade, perhaps?”
“Lemonade would be great, thanks.”
A maid appeared and poured a tall glass, because heaven forbid Abigail should do it. The first time Sarah had reached for the teapot to pour herself a cup, she’d practically had her hand slapped. Apparently it was in poor taste for rich people to lift anything heavier than a teacup. Sarah didn’t imagine it was that way with all wealthy people; then again, she didn’t know any other wealthy people.
“Thank you, Maureen.” Sarah smiled up at the young woman. Maureen returned her smile, and moved back to her post against the wall.
“Now,” Abigail said, “the reason I asked you to stop by is so that we can discuss the wedding plans.”
And so it begins. Logan had warned her to expect some intrusion from his mother. Sarah put on her brave face. “Shouldn’t Logan be here, too?”
“What on earth for? All men care about is the honeymoon.” She reached for a pen and legal pad. “Let’s get started.”
The heat in Sarah’s cheeks reached from her neck to her ears. She took a long drink of the cool lemonade before speaking. “I appreciate your help, Mrs. Montgomery, but my mother is already working on booking the church hall, so all I need is your guest list.”
“What?” Abigail’s face went from her usual pasty shade of beige to blood red in a matter of seconds. “No son of mine will have his wedding reception in a shabby church hall.”
Sarah expected the comeback. She also knew there was no way the reception would take place where she always figured it would. Marrying into a family of multi-millionaires changed that. The location wasn’t all that important to her, but making sure her mother had a say in the planning was definitely a must.
“Have you ever seen the hall, Mrs. Montgomery? It’s actually quite lovely. My father helped build it, and my mother did the interior design.”
Abigail twisted her mouth. “I’m sure it’s very nice, but I doubt it will accommodate the number of people on my list.”
“Oh, Logan and I have decided to keep it small. No more than a hundred people.” The red in Abigail’s face intensified. It was mean of Sarah, but she was enjoying taking the lead for a change. It wouldn’t last long, but a win was a win.
“That’s ridiculous.” Abigail slammed her pen against the pad, and quickly softened her voice. “I understand it’s customary for the bride’s family to pay for the wedding, but in this case I feel it would be much more advantageous for all concerned if you allowed Logan’s father and me to cover the expenses.”
“I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Montgomery, but you have to understand that I’m an only child, and my parents, especially my mother, have been looking forward to this since the day I was born.”
“As I’ve been looking forward to Logan’s wedding.” She picked up the pen again. “We’re both reasonable people, Sarah, and I’m sure we can come to a satisfactory solution to this situation. It isn’t that there’s anything wrong with a church hall, but Richard and I have some very influential friends, and a more apropos venue is to be expected.”
“Such as?” Sarah sipped her lemonade.
Abigail tapped the pen against the pad she’d written nothing on. “Since you and Logan feel the need to rush into marriage, you’ve eliminated most of the best locations.”
Pulling in a slow breath, Sarah prayed she’d keep her mouth shut. Abigail was right that Logan had swept Sarah off her feet, and that after only six months they were planning a wedding, but it irked her that Abigail felt the need to throw it in Sarah’s face at every opportunity.
“Logan and I are in love. What may appear rushed to you is right for us. I’m sorry if that spoils your plans, but we’re the ones getting married, and the venue isn’t all that important to either of us. That said, I’m willing to listen to any suggestions you might have.”
“In that case, I feel it would be best if we held the wedding at the house. The gazebo by the pond would make a perfect place for the nuptials, and the yard is ample enough to accommodate all the guests and then some. What do you think?” Her smile was as phony as her acrylic nails.
Though she would never admit it, Sarah was actually quite pleased her parents wouldn’t have to fork out a lot of money, and there was no doubt her mother would have a blast choosing an elaborate mother-of-the-bride dress. There were definite pluses to be appreciated. “I’ll have a talk with my mother, but in all fairness, I think we should set up a meeting so that we can include her in our plans.”
“Fine, you do that, and get back to me.” Abigail tilted her head and smirked. “Unless you and Logan would consider waiting another year? That would give me, I mean us, ample time to plan something spectacular.”
Spectacular was exactly what Sarah didn’t want. She was happy with her job as
a second grade teacher, and Logan had just finished his research master’s in New Mexico, studying the Zuni tribe. They weren’t looking to live an extravagant or elaborate life. “I appreciate it, but Logan and I prefer to keep things simple.”
Mrs. Montgomery’s brows knit together. “There’s nothing wrong with the simple life, but with wealth comes expectations. Something you’ll have to learn.”
Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything stupid. She knew enough to play by the rules, at least until she and Logan were married. Now that he’d started on his Ph.D., it was only a matter of time before a professorship became available. Sarah didn’t care where. In all honesty, she hoped it would be on the other side of the country, away from the in-laws. “Why don’t you give me a few dates and times that work for you, and we’ll take it from there.”
Abigail pulled out her smart phone and jotted some information on a piece of paper. “There you go. Get back to me as quickly as possible. We don’t have a lot of time.”
It took all Sarah had to refrain from pointing out how many times Mrs. Montgomery had already mentioned the short timeframe. She stood. “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow morning.”
”Where are you going? We still have the wedding dress to discuss.”
Anger squeezed Sarah’s lungs. She forced herself to breathe. She might be willing to sacrifice the majority of her wedding plans, but not the dress. “My mother and I are going dress shopping next weekend.”
“Good. Take this with you.” Abigail handed Sarah a manila folder. “In it you’ll find all the dresses the Montgomery women wave worn in the last century. You’ll note that even the most recent bride, Logan’s first cousin, stuck to the family tradition. I expect you to do the same.”
Sarah opened the folder and flipped through the photographs. All of the dresses were long-sleeved and cream-colored. Each was adorned with some sort of lace and had a short train. Not one of them looked anything like the gown she had in mind. It was one thing to compromise on venue and attendance, quite another to be told what sort of gown to wear.
She tossed the folder on the table. “Until I take my vows, I’m an Alexander woman, and as an Alexander woman, I retain the right to purchase the gown of my choice.” She left with a smile on her face and determination in her step.
CHAPTER TWO
The remainder of the week seemed to drag on forever. Sarah and Logan spoke often, but their conflicting schedules didn’t allow them any time together. By the time Saturday night rolled around, Sarah could hardly wait to spend a quiet evening together, cuddling on the couch.
Dinner was nearly ready when Logan arrived at six. Sarah let him in, kissed him soundly, and pulled him to her tiny dining room table. “I fixed your favorite.”
“Lasagna?”
She retrieved a salad from the refrigerator and set it on the counter. “Stuffed with meat sauce and mozzarella only, no ricotta.”
Coming up from behind, Logan slipped his arms around her waist. “You’re the best, babe.” He nibbled her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “What can I do to help?”
“Stop kissing me if you expect me to get dinner on the table.” She turned in his arms, her stomach flipping at the sight of his dimpled chin and azure-blue eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Or keep kissing me and we can eat later.”
Logan kissed her cheek and released her—not the reaction she expected. Then again, it had been a long, crazy week, and he did tell her he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
She chose not to take it personally. “How about pouring the wine?”
“My pleasure.”
Over dinner, Sarah avoided rehashing her confrontation with Abigail and was surprised when Logan brought it up. “I spoke to Mom today and told her that I stand behind your wedding dress choice.”
“You already told me that the other day.”
“I know, but I thought if I kept on top of things, we might be able to get a few more of your wants in the deal.” He stuffed a large bite of pasta into his mouth.
“Deal? You mean our wedding?”
“Of course, our wedding.” He forked another large mouthful, avoiding direct eye contact.
Something was off. Sarah had already resigned herself to the majority of Abigail’s wishes, and had told Logan as much. She took a sip of her wine. “What am I missing?”
Still not looking at her directly, Logan set his fork down. “I’ve been given a great opportunity to participate in a dig in a recently discovered site in a remote area of Egypt.”
Alarm bells clanged while red flags waved. “How come you never mentioned it before?”
“Because I only found out yesterday. Remember how badly I wanted to go on the dig with Anton Holst, but had to settle for New Mexico?”
She nodded.
“Well, now I’m getting my chance.” A grin spread across his handsome face. “You can imagine my surprise when I got the call. It would be quite the coup to unearth some early artifacts, not to mention working alongside one of the most renowned archeologists in the world.”
Sarah willed herself not to jump to conclusions and listen without interrupting. “How exactly does a dig in Egypt relate to our wedding and what I might want?”
Logan pushed his plate aside and took hold of her hands. He looked deeply into her eyes for the first time since sitting down. “This dig will go a long way in establishing my name in the archeological world, and can be applied to my Ph.D. It’s Anton Holst, Sarah. The fact that I’ve been asked to participate is huge.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I know. I just want you to understand how important this is to me, despite the fact it’ll be a sacrifice for you.”
A sick feeling whirled in the pit of her stomach. “Please tell me you’re not asking me to postpone the wedding.”
He held eye contact. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
The whirling equaled the spin cycle of her washing machine. “And what if I say no?”
“I’m hoping that won’t be the case.” Logan squeezed her hands more tightly. “You need to understand the magnitude of the offer that’s been made, and what it will do for the future—our future.”
Feeling like her lungs had just collapsed; Sarah worked to suck in some air. He wasn’t going to give her a choice in the matter. He’d already made up his mind, and her voice wouldn’t count. She pulled her hands free. “Does this have anything to do with your parents?”
A frown drew his brows together. “Of course not. My parents think I’m crazy for not following Dad into the financial field and eventually taking over the business.”
“When?”
“When what?”
She stood and took their dishes to the sink. It didn’t matter that they’d barely touched their meal; Sarah couldn’t fathom eating another bite. “When would you have to leave?”
“Three weeks.”
Her lungs squeezed for a second time, and she feared asking the next question. “How long will you be gone?”
Logan picked up their wine glasses and handed over hers. “At least twelve months, possibly eighteen. A lot will depend on the funding, the Egyptian government, and the weather. There are a load of variables.”
“How often will you get to come home?”
He winced. “I don’t have all the details yet, but if I’m able to get away, it won’t likely be for at least six months.”
“You’ve certainly thrown my life into a tailspin.” She downed a large swallow. “I gave up everything, Logan, not only my notice at work but the lease on my apartment, just so I could follow you wherever you might be sent. What am I supposed to do now?”
“Surely it’s not too late to tell your principal you’ve changed your mind?”
“They’ve already promised my job to the fifth grade teacher, who’s much better suited to younger kids.”
“How long has the fifth grade teacher worked there?”
“This is her first year
.”
“There you go. You have seniority. I’m sure the principal can explain the situation and put the teacher off for another year. You’ll be gone the next year for sure.” He beamed like it was just that simple.
“And if Anton Holst suddenly told you a former archeologist he’d worked with in the past wants on his team, so you were out, would that be okay with you?”
His smile faded. “Point taken, but you can look elsewhere, can’t you?”
Downing the last of her wine, Sarah set the glass down with too much force and broke the stem. “Of course I can look elsewhere, but I’ve been with that school for four years. I love it there.” Tears spilled while she cleaned up the broken glass.
Logan took the pieces from her and tossed them into the trash. Taking her into his arms, he pulled her close. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve let the excitement of my news overshadow everything else. If nothing else, you can let them know you’ve changed your mind about the apartment.”
“Maybe, but if I don’t have a job I can’t afford it anyway.” She sniffed into his chest.
“I’ll get my parents to cover your expenses until we’re both on our feet again.”
“No.” She pushed away from him. “If I can’t find a job, I’ll move back in with my folks.”
His eyes narrowed. “So you’ll let your parents support you, but not mine? We’re engaged, Sarah. My family is your family.”
Nothing positive could come from being beholden to Abigail Montgomery, not that Logan would understand. Things were stressful enough. She saw no need to make matters worse. “I don’t want either scenario. If I can’t find a full-time teaching job, I can always sign on as a substitute, not to mention tutoring. I’ll be fine.”
“So, we’re okay?”
The hopeful look on his face tugged at Sarah’s heart. “I love you, Logan, and I want to marry you. I don’t like it, but if it means waiting, then I’m willing to wait.”
Logan pulled her close, pressing his forehead against hers. “Thanks, babe. While I’m gone, you get to make all the plans you want. I’ll wear whatever you choose, eat whatever cake you decide on, and honeymoon wherever you like.”
