The Goodbye Bride

by Denise Hunter

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “She wasn’t too happy.”

  “I remember!” That was good, right? It felt good, getting back another piece of her life. It meant she was on the mend. She could move forward, with Zac.

  Zac watched with mixed emotions as a myriad of feelings washed over Lucy’s face. He remembered that night as if it were yesterday. He’d been under so much stress. He was still grieving the loss of his dad; one of his cooks had just quit, leaving him to pick up the slack; and he was trying to help Beau get the Christmas tree farm ready to open for the season. Add one full-time server off with a broken leg, plus an upcoming wedding, and he had a disaster in the making.

  He’d given his fiancée precious little time, and he knew that wasn’t right. She was the best thing in his life. How many times had he wondered, after she’d left, if it was his own fault? Had he chased her away? Had she simply tired of his dark mood?

  “I can’t believe I remembered something.” Her eyes lit with excitement, and a smile revealed both dimples.

  “That’s great, Lucy. Really great.” A heavy weight settled in his chest.

  They tucked into their food, but the shrimp scampi had lost all appeal. He swallowed past a fist-sized lump as two questions traveled his mind in relentless circles: Would the rest of her memory come back? And if it did, would she still want him?

  Chapter 33

  Lucy took her mail out to the deck. The weeknight was slow at the restaurant, and she had the space all to herself. She’d left Zac in the kitchen dealing with a late bread delivery. They were both having busy weeks, and Zac had suggested they spend the upcoming Saturday evening together.

  “I’ll plan it,” he said. “Just be ready at five and wear something comfortable.”

  On the deck she kicked off her heels, and her feet practically sighed in relief. The evening was beautiful, the sinking sun stealing the warmth of the day. A salty breeze blew in off the sea, pushing her hair over her shoulders.

  She tore open the first envelope, her credit card bill. She looked at the balance. Ugh. She stuck the bill back in the envelope. A Nordstrom flyer, addressed to her, attested to her expensive taste in shoes. Her eyes caught on a pair of emerald Gucci sling-backs with a silver buckle. Her pulse gave a leap at the sleek design and glossy leather. Gorgeous!

  Remembering her credit card bill, she gave a hard sigh and set the flyer on the table. She passed on a political brochure and a credit card offer. The last envelope was from an investment firm. She slid a finger under the flap, her eyes on a seagull that swooped near the deck, hoping for a crumb.

  “Sorry, little guy, not allowed.” Zac had signs posted, but that didn’t stop tourists from feeding the birds.

  She pulled out the slip of paper and unfolded it, reading. Her eyes narrowed on the words. On the information that followed. On the numbers.

  What?

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she reread the statement, checked the name at the top. Looked at the number again. She glanced at the letterhead. The investment firm was located in Savannah. She punched the number into her phone, but it was after five. She doubted they were still open.

  “B&D Investments.”

  “Hi, um, may I speak with”—she checked the bottom of the statement—“Allen Foster?”

  “Name, please?”

  “Lucy Lovett.”

  “Oh, Miss Lovett. Just a moment. I’ll put you right through.”

  Had the woman’s voice warmed when she’d said Lucy’s name? Lucy looked over the statement while she waited. All those zeros . . . She blinked, and they were still there. The paper shook in her hand.

  “Lucy,” a male voice said. He sounded older, maybe in his sixties. “It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”

  “Thank you, um, Mr. Foster. I’m—I guess I’m doing just fine.”

  He gave a warm chuckle. “Allen,” he corrected. “I thought we settled that a long time ago.”

  “Yes, well, the thing is Mr., uh, Allen, I don’t exactly remember that conversation. Or lots of other conversations.” She explained her injury and the memory loss she’d been coping with.

  “Oh, you poor dear! Is there anything I can do?”

  “Well, actually, there is. I got a statement in the mail from your firm. Am I to understand I have money invested with you?”

  “Oh my . . . I’m not certain how much you remember. Are you aware that your great-aunt, ah . . .”

  “Yes. I know she passed on. I don’t remember it, but I read about it in the paper.”

  He tsked. “I’m so sorry. What a wretched way to find out. But yes, your aunt Audrey left you a healthy sum, and you invested the majority in the market. I’d be happy to review your portfolio with you if you’d like.”

  “But—but she always said she was giving everything to charity. She didn’t believe in leaving money to heirs. She said it made for spoiled and entitled children.”

  “She didn’t want you counting on the money, that’s all. She wanted you to make your own way and have your own goals. You did. You have.”

  “But her estate . . . her home and . . .”

  “All settled. You handled that months ago.”

  “Oh. I feel so silly.” How did she not remember any of this? She rubbed her temples as if it might make the memories reappear.

  “Not at all. The brain is a perplexing organ. Would you like to go over your portfolio tonight? I have a dinner appointment in half an hour, but I’d be happy to call you afterward.”

  Her mind was reeling, mostly with all those zeroes. “Would you mind sending me the information in the mail? I have a feeling I’ll need to see it all in black and white.”

  “Of course.”

  She gave him her current address so it wouldn’t be forwarded and hung up the phone. Still staring at the number on the bottom line, she headed inside and found Zac in the back alley signing off with the bread guy. She waited by the back door until he was finished.

  A minute later exhaust fumes filled the air as the truck pulled away.

  Zac turned, a smile tipping his lips when he caught sight of her. His eyes narrowed as they studied her face. “What’s that secret little smile all about?”

  She blinked, still trying to believe it was true. “I have money.” Her voice sounded as dazed as she felt.

  Zac pulled her into his arms. “That’s good, because you’ve worked up quite a tab, young lady. All those sweet teas are adding up.”

  She braced her hands on his arms. “No, Zac. I mean I have money. A lot of it.”

  He tilted his head, studying her, his fathomless gray eyes questioning.

  She held up the statement. “I got this in the mail from an investment firm, and I just called. My aunt left me everything. Everything. Apparently I settled up the estate, I just don’t remember it.” She handed him the paper.

  He took the statement and looked it over, his eyes widening when they hit the bottom line. “Holy moly. That’s a lot of zeros.”

  “I know, right? Can you believe it?”

  His eyes found hers again, searching. “What do you think about that?”

  “I don’t know what to think. It’s so new.” What did a person do, coming into sudden money of that kind? She was used to clipping coupons and saving for apartment deposits and shopping for bargains.

  “I don’t know who that Lucy Lovett was—the one in Portland. I’m so confused.”

  He tipped her chin up. “She was the same Lucy that’s standing right in front of me. She had a sweet Southern drawl, a special way with people, and a big heart.”

  His words warmed her from the inside out. She gave a wry smile. “And a big bank account apparently. No wonder I could afford that apartment.”

  Zac placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her into his arms. “It’s just money. It doesn’t change who you are. And hey . . . now you could open that community center you were talking about. Wouldn’t that be something?”

  The thought made her chest squee
ze tight. She could open a community center. The thought of providing a safe place for people, for kids, to connect made her heart race. She saw it as a gathering place. She’d love it if it could be free for the community—and now she actually had the money to pull it off.

  She settled into his embrace, letting her hands drift over the hard muscles of his arms. She breathed in his spicy scent, savoring the smell of him. The feel of him.

  She snuggled deeper into his arms. She could stay like this forever. In Summer Harbor. In his arms. She could start her community center and keep her little room in the Roadhouse. Maybe she could afford the biggest home in Summer Harbor and a yacht the size of Rhode Island, but that didn’t mean she had to have it.

  That pair of emerald-green Guccis, though . . . those were all hers.

  Chapter 34

  The next morning while Lucy was working she missed a call from Brad. She was relieved that he’d left no voicemail, but a few minutes later a text came in.

  Can’t we at least talk? I need to hear your voice and know

  you’re okay. I need to see you. I miss you. Please call me back.

  A niggle of fear wormed through her veins. Her senses went on heightened alert. She cast a look out the screen door of the visitor center as if he might appear on the stoop.

  Stop it, Lucy. You’re being melodramatic.

  He’d been her fiancé, after all. Maybe he didn’t know when to quit, but some part of her must’ve loved him and trusted him in order to have accepted his proposal.

  Later that afternoon she locked up the center, anticipating seeing Zac. She’d gotten in the habit of hunting him down in the restaurant and greeting him with a kiss. She loved seeing the heart-stopping smile that curved his lips when he caught sight of her.

  The day was beautiful and sunny, not a cloud in the sky, as she began the short walk home. When she’d nearly reached the end of the center’s walkway, her eyes caught on a familiar figure silhouetted at the end. Her footsteps slowed. She mentally went through her options, from calling Zac to turning back to the center.

  But she was overreacting. They were in public. A family frolicked on the beach not far away, and cars crawled past on Main Street at the required thirty miles per hour.

  Brad straightened as she neared. A gust of wind swept his hair off his high forehead. “Hi, Lucy.”

  “Brad. What are you doing here?”

  “You look nice.”

  “You shouldn’t be here. I told you I’m with someone else now.”

  “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.”

  “Because I’m with someone else now.”

  He held up his palm. “I don’t want to argue. I just want to talk. Did you walk to work? Can I give you a lift?”

  She stepped back, crossing her arms. “I don’t think so. We don’t have anything to talk about, Brad. I still don’t remember why I left the wedding, so there’s really no point—”

  “I’ll walk you home. Is that okay? We can talk on the way.”

  It was a public boardwalk. She really couldn’t stop him from walking alongside her, and maybe if she let him have his say, he’d finally leave her be.

  “I suppose so.” She turned onto the boardwalk and set a quick pace.

  “Guess I’d better talk fast, huh?” A hint of bitterness coated his tone. “Look, Lucy, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’d like a second chance.”

  She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.

  “I know you’re seeing that other guy, but you were engaged to me. You fell in love with me, and if you hadn’t bumped your head, you’d still be in love with me.”

  “I’d already left you by the time I bumped my head. There must’ve been a good reason.”

  “You were just getting cold feet. You’d been a little nervous. If things had gone differently that day, I would’ve come and found you, and we would’ve talked it out, and we would’ve been married before the day was over.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. But it doesn’t matter anyway. That’s not what happened. I can’t change the fact that I bumped my head or lost my memory or the fact that I’ve fallen for someone else. I’m sorry, but I just don’t love—”

  “Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Just think about it. Meet me for drinks later.”

  “I’m busy tonight.”

  “In the morning then. For coffee or whatever you want. Name the place and time, and I’ll be there.”

  She shook her head, torn between wanting to appease him somehow and worrying that her intuition was right. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She was relieved to see the Roadhouse in the distance. Her feet couldn’t get her there fast enough. They walked in silence a minute, her spiked adrenaline driving her forward.

  Almost to the parking lot. Almost to the walkway.

  “Come on, Lucy. Look at it from my perspective. My bride, the woman of my dreams, walked out on our wedding. She disappeared, and I worried myself sick, thinking the worst. Then she turns up, and she not only doesn’t love me anymore, she doesn’t even remember me.”

  Almost to the door. “That’s not my fault.”

  “And now she’s with someone else.” He took her arm, forcing her to stop. His brows pulled together, his lips in a thin line.

  He blew out his breath low and slow as Alma Walker shuffled past, giving Lucy a curious nod.

  “I didn’t say it was your fault,” he said once Alma was inside. There was a strained edge to his voice, one that sparked a flash in her mind. A memory so vivid it instantly replayed.

  It was the night before their wedding. He said something in front of his friends that made her feel stupid and clumsy. When she called him on it later, they argued. His voice was strained, his anger barely reined in. Eventually he apologized. They ended the night with a lingering kiss.

  The morning of her wedding, she couldn’t shake the uneasiness in her stomach. Even as she slipped into her beautiful gown, she knew she had to clear the air before they said their vows. Her friend from work, Anna, was serving as her maid of honor. Anna was a stickler for traditions. Bad enough Lucy was having a courthouse wedding. She’d never be in favor of Lucy seeing Brad before the ceremony.

  They entered the courthouse through the side door.

  “I’m going to touch up my lipstick,” Lucy said. “Can you go on over to the waiting room and make sure our guests are comfortable? Make the introductions?”

  “Of course.” Anna’s heels clacked down the hallway, and Lucy turned down a short hall to await Brad’s arrival. He was due any moment according to his text.

  Her heart beat up into her throat. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm her anxious spirit.

  Immediately visions of Zac Callahan formed in her mind. His beautiful gray eyes, looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world. The soft scruff of his beard against her temple. His tender kiss pressed to her lips. His strong arms wrapped around her. Her heart pounded as an ache spread like a disease through her middle.

  Stop it, Lucy!

  “Did you hear me?” Brad squeezed her arm. “Lucy.”

  She turned her eyes to his. He kept talking, but his words faded, the memory of their wedding day clinging to her like a barnacle on a boat.

  She hadn’t loved Brad, not really. She’d settled for him. She’d still been in love with Zac.

  She was dreadfully lonely after leaving Zac. Brad came into her life soon after her arrival in Portland. He helped fill the void. She liked his company, liked him. He was smart and, for little bits of time, he could make her forget how terribly she missed Zac. She didn’t want to be alone forever, and Brad was a man she could love without needing him so desperately. He was safe. Just the sort of man she should spend the rest of her life with.

  She tried to go back even further in time and remember her last moments with Zac. But the slate was blank.

  Only when she tried to remember what happened next did the memories begin to flow again.
/>
  A car’s engine hummed outside the courthouse door, and Lucy prayed it was Brad. They’d have a discussion, he’d settle her nerves, and everything would be fine. All these jitters . . . cold feet, that’s all it was. She just needed a quiet moment with Brad before she pledged her life to him.

  His voice boomed through the door well before he did. He had that kind of voice, especially when he was on the phone. After several seconds she realized he was going to finish his call outside. He was using his business voice. It was sharp and firm. But this time she heard a quiver of nerves beneath the confidence.

  “I told you, Bill, I’m taking care of it.”

  Lucy leaned her head against the wall, heedless of the hairdo Anna had worked so hard on.

  “Well, be more patient. I said you’ll have it by the end of the day, and you will.”

  Lucy frowned, turning her ear toward the door, her stomach twisting with dread. After their wedding they were headed straight for Paris. Her bag was already in his car.

  “I’ll have it wired,” he was saying. “If you’d leave me alone for two seconds, I’d get inside and get this taken care of.”

  A moment later when he burst through the door, Lucy pressed back into the doorway, the pieces falling into place.

  “Lucy! Are you even listening to me?” His grip on her elbow had tightened painfully.

  She jerked it away, the remnants of her memory fading fast, her vision filling with his deceitful eyes.

  Her body tensed as heat flooded through her. “You were using me.”

  “What?”

  Her legs had gone weak, and her fingers were numb, but her thoughts were crystal clear. “I remember. I overheard your phone call at the courthouse. You owed somebody money. You were only marrying me to pay your debt.”

  Something shifted in his eyes before the shutters went over them. “That’s absurd. You must’ve misunderstood. It was just a business call.” He reached out, his voice gentling. “Lucy, you know how much I love—”