This was where the powerful worked. The world of success to which Amy had always dreamed of being a part. The Enterprise Consulting Group was where you wanted to entrust the future of your company’s computer systems and human resource applications. Yet every square inch of the place was a prison Amy had never seen coming.
She mentally squashed her introspection and the melancholy that always followed close behind. So what if she wanted to be anyone but herself right now. So what if she wanted to be anywhere but where she was, doing what she was doing.
She was going to make this work, and she was bagging her promotion. She and Becky were coming out on top this time. They were going to be safe and out of Richard’s control once and for all.
Unless you fail again, the little voice chimed in, right on cue.
No…not a chance. Not this time.
She was getting it right this time. Becky wasn’t going to pay the price for her mother’s mistakes. No matter what Amy had to sacrifice to get them through this.
CHAPTER TWO
“YES, MR. WESTING.” Amy nodded to herself, making adjustments to the project plan she was walking the Kramer Industries IT director through. “I’m confident your CEO will be more than pleased at the closing meeting on the thirtieth.”
She withdrew a spreadsheet from her folder and slid it across the desk toward Phillip Hutchinson. The senior partner’s slow nod as he reviewed the plans she’d sacrificed months of her life to produce, and his begrudging, “It all looks on target to me, Jed,” were as good as a standing ovation.
“Good.” Papers shuffled on Westing’s end of the line. “Now, let’s walk through the support contract again.”
“Yes, sir.” Amy dug out another set of papers. It felt incredible to be on top of her game. To be staring down the pressure and to have the right answer at every turn. To finally be in control of something, when the rest of her life was such a disaster.
“Let me fax you the schedule that details the two options.” She handed Mr. Hutchinson the paperwork. “Take a look at—”
The cell phone at her hip started doing the cha-cha.
She grabbed it, grateful beyond words that she’d remembered to turn the thing to Vibrate. At the top of Phillip Hutchinson’s list of meeting dos and don’ts was no, absolutely no, cell phone interruptions. But her cell was her connection with Becky and Gwen until she could bring her daughter back to Atlanta. Forget Hutchinson’s rules.
The man’s annoyed stare locked on to Amy. Her heart chose that moment to begin beating in her throat. She yanked the phone from her waistband, giving up any pretence of subtlety.
“Ms. Loar?” Mr. Hutchinson prodded.
The display revealed Sweetbrook’s area code, but it wasn’t her mother’s number.
“Ms. Loar!” he demanded under his breath.
Oh, no. What was it she’d been saying to Westing?
The phone buzzed in her hand.
Becky! Something must have happened. Was that the number for the Sweetbrook hospital?
“I’m sorry.” She passed her notes to Hutchinson. “I have to take this call.”
“I’m faxing you those support schedules now, Jed.” Hutchinson activated the fax machine at his elbow, his voice resonating professionalism. His eyes, however, raged with disapproval.
She forced herself to walk calmly from the room. She closed the door behind her and thumbed the Talk button on the still-shuddering phone, leaving her flawless spreadsheets, the countless hours she’d spent running and rerunning the Kramer numbers, to speak for themselves.
“Hello?” she said.
Please let Becky be okay.
“Hello?” an oddly familiar masculine voice echoed. “I was calling for Amy Loar…Reese. Amy Reese?”
“This is Amy Loar.” She garbled her words as she sank into every mother’s nightmare. Something might have happened to her child, and Amy was hundreds of miles away. “What’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine,” the man reassured her. “I mean, not exactly—”
“Who is this?” She finally took a full breath, as the initial edge of panic receded.
“Amy, it’s Josh…. Joshua White.”
She stared at the phone, a rush of childhood memories consuming her.
There was Josh, smiling and forever young, surely the handsomest senior class president ever elected, delivering his valedictorian speech at their high school graduation. Voted most likely to succeed. Brilliant. The only son of a wealthy Southern family whose forefathers had founded Sweetbrook over two hundred years ago. Josh had been so far removed from the reality of Amy’s own childhood that the fact that they’d hooked up as kids and stayed friends through high school was still a mystery to more people than her.
And then she remembered the last time she’d seen him. His expression had darkened with disappointment, his voice angry and hurt as he passed his small-town judgment on her pending marriage to a man he didn’t think was good enough for her.
“You’re marrying him for all the wrong reasons,” he’d said. “He won’t make you happy.”
“And you’re an expert on me and what makes me happy,” she’d retorted.
“I’ve gotten pretty good at watching you throw the important things in your life away in your pursuit of success, yes.” His hands had shook as he cupped her cheek. “It makes me sad to see you putting so much faith in this guy and his money. His promises that this better life of his in Atlanta will make you happy. It makes me… It makes me want to show you what you could have if you came back to live in Sweetbrook.”
And before she’d known it, the anger in the eyes of the man she’d secretly had a crush on for years had heated into something new, something that felt as forbidden and thrilling as the kiss that had followed—
“I’m the principal of the elementary school in Sweetbrook,” Josh said in the here and now.
“I…I know who you are, Josh.” She checked her watch. “It’s ten o’clock at night. And I’m in an important meeting.”
“I see.” The friendly note drained from his voice. “Your mother mentioned you kept late hours at the office, but I thought by now you might have time to talk.”
“I’m trying to close a deal with an important client.” Amy’s cheeks singed at the censure she couldn’t believe she was hearing in his voice.
“What I’ve called to discuss about Becky is equally important, I assure you,” he reasoned, “or I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
As if taking time for her daughter was too much of a bother. Amy’s spine stiffened.
Maybe he had seen Richard for the snake he turned out to be long before she’d wised up. Maybe Josh had been right all along, that her big plans for her life in Atlanta wouldn’t make her happy. But he didn’t know her anymore. He couldn’t begin to comprehend the kind of trouble she was digging herself and Becky out of. Or how much she despised herself for each minute she couldn’t be with her child.
“How did you get this number?” she asked, biting back her favorite childhood label for him when he was being a pain—butthead.
“Gwen gave it to the school when she registered Becky. I have it here in your daughter’s file.” He was full-on Principal White now, his voice as formal and as superficially polite as hers. “Just at a glance, I’d say the behavior problems and incidents Becky’s racked up in just the month she’s been with us constitute an emergency by anyone’s standards. In case
you weren’t aware of what’s been going on down here, I wanted to bring you up to speed.”
“I’m aware of everything that’s happening with my daughter. I talk with her every night,” Amy snapped. “I’m very interested in her life, and I stay as involved as I can be.”
“I wasn’t judging you, Amy.” He sounded genuinely hurt.
“Sure you were.”
She’d been down this road before. For months now, as a matter of fact, ever since the mothers of Becky’s friends first learned about Amy’s increased hours at Enterprise after the divorce. The frenzy of unsolicited concern and advice that had ensued—after dance practice, at the car-pool stop to and from school, after birthday parties and sleepovers—had made Amy’s decision to remove Becky from her exclusive private school even easier. They couldn’t afford the tuition any longer, and Amy didn’t need the daily reminder of how badly she was failing as a mother, no matter how hard she tried.
“I called to discuss Becky’s issues at school,” Josh offered, his tone edging toward reasonable. “Not to comment on your priorities as a mother, or your relationship with your daughter. I’d like to help.”
“Look.” Amy unclenched her jaw. Chided herself for overreacting. The man was just doing his job. She glanced at her watch again. “I’ve already spoken with my mother, and I’m just as concerned as you that Becky’s having difficulty in school—”
“Then you’re planning to be here Friday?”
“What?”
“For the SST meeting.”
The door to Mr. Hutchinson’s office opened. The senior partner stepped partially into the hall.
“Ms. Loar, I need you in here.”
She raised a finger to signal for another minute. Turning her back as the door closed less than gently behind her, she gritted her teeth against the screaming tantrum that would be a really bad idea.
“Josh, I’d be happy to stop by the school as soon as I wrap up my project here. I don’t know what this SST meeting is, but Friday’s out of the question, I’m afraid.”
“And I’m afraid we can’t put this off.” His statement resonated with the same determination she’d once admired. Only there was an unforgiving edge to Josh’s controlled manner now. A harshness at complete odds with the easygoing charm that had tempered his personality when they were kids.
“We’re just going to have to put it off.” Amy took a calming breath. “I appreciate your call, and I’ll make an appointment with the school admin for a few weeks from now—”
“You don’t understand. We’re having the meeting Friday, with or without you. If you can’t make the time to be here, we’ll do what we think is best for Becky in your absence.”
His disapproving tone snuffed out Amy’s last attempt to keep the conversation polite, just as it had that night over ten years ago when he’d decided he knew what was best for her life.
Privilege and money had smoothed Josh’s every step from childhood. After college, he’d returned to Sweetbrook to take his rightful place in his family’s legacy of service and philanthropy to the community. He was principal of Dr. David C. White Elementary School. She’d heard his marriage had fallen apart a year or so ago, but beyond that it seemed his life had worked out exactly according to his master plan. How could he possibly understand what it was like to fight and struggle, and all the while know you’re stuck in a no-win battle you might never escape from?
“I do appreciate your courtesy.” She nearly choked on the words. “But how exactly do you anticipate having a parent-teacher conference without the parent present?”
Butthead!
“The Student Support Team meeting is for Becky’s benefit, not yours,” he explained. “It’s a little more formal than you sitting down for a chat with her teacher. Your daughter’s facing some tough challenges, and she’s going to need all the help she can get. I’ll be there Friday, along with her teacher, Mrs. Cole. So will our staff counselor. Together, we’ll come up with a set of strategies that we hope will help school become a more successful experience for Becky.”
“What challenges? What strategies? Becky’s upset because of the hours I’ve had to keep the last few months. Because she blames me for how my marriage ended.” Amy clasped the pendant dangling around her neck. “My daughter doesn’t want to be in Sweetbrook, so she’s acting out a little more than usual at school. I’ll be there in a few weeks, then she’ll settle back in here with me. Don’t you think you’re overreacting with this SST thing? Becky’s going to be fine.”
“She may not be, Amy. Not without some help.” Josh’s concern radiated across the crackling cell connection. Gone was the all-business principal who couldn’t keep his intrusive opinions to himself. In his place was the friend whose shoulder Amy had cried on the summer her puppy had died in her arms after being struck by a car. Gwen had been at work, Amy hadn’t had anyone else to turn to, and Josh had been there, as always. Steady, certain, unflappable. “Her teacher’s concerned that part of Becky’s acting out may stem from frustration over a learning disability—”
“What learning disability?”
“The purpose of the SST meeting is to discuss Mrs. Cole’s suspicion that Attention Deficit Disorder may account for some of Amy’s disruptive behavior in the classroom.”
“Attention Deficit…” The muffled sound of the conference call going on behind her faded. Her surroundings shimmered to a hazy white. “I don’t understand….”
“We think Becky may be dealing with ADD, on top of the other issues you mentioned earlier.”
On top of the other issues…. The words clamored through Amy’s head. Issues that were her fault. On top of Becky losing her family and being separated from the life and home that were all she’d ever known. On top of her needing Amy the most, just when it was impossible for her to be there for her little girl. On top of all that, Becky might have—
“ADD?” she whispered. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she knew enough to be scared. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Tears threatened, blurring everything around her. “But I had no idea…. How…?”
“It’s going to be okay, Amy,” Josh said. “We’re going to figure this out.”
His reassurance was like a lifeline, and she found his use of the word we wasn’t as offensive as it should have been, given the way he’d been subtly pointing his finger at her moments before.
“Ms. Loar.” Phillip Hutchinson was standing beside Amy. She had no idea how long he’d been there. “Mr. Westing has another question about the payout schedule. I need you to walk him through it.”
The man was all but tapping his foot for her to hop-to.
“I…” Amy fought for words, fought against the sensation that her world was slipping out from under her.
“Amy, can you make the SST meeting?” Josh’s voice sounded in her ear, cornering her, pressing for an answer with as much tenacity as her boss.
Her daughter or her career? Amy’s plans to manage both had never seemed more unattainable.
“I’ll be there on Friday,” she croaked into the phone, ending the call before Josh could say another word.
She turned to Mr. Hutchinson and squared her shoulders.
“I need to take a few days off.”
“You can’t be serious.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got a nervous director in there, and you’re meeting with their entire senior management at three tomorrow. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I have a family e
mergency. I’m leaving in the morning, as soon as I can wrap things up here. I’ll be gone until Monday.” She was already working out the details in her head. She’d spend tomorrow afternoon with Becky and Gwen, meet with Josh and his staff on Friday, get things back on an even keel over the weekend, then return to Atlanta by Sunday evening to catch up before the new week started. “I can video conference in on tomorrow’s meeting. The rest I’ll find a way to do from Sweetbrook on my laptop and smartphone.”
“Sweetbrook? Where’s Sweetbrook?”
“In South Carolina. It’s where I grew up.”
And it was the one place, despite all her plans to leave it behind, where she’d last felt safe.
She brushed past him and stepped into his office, pushing aside thoughts of everything but the corporate director who needed to be placated before she could do anything else. Lucky for Amy, reassuring nervous clients was turning out to be one of her greatest talents.
If only her and her daughter’s problems were as easy to resolve.
* * *
“CAN I GET YOU ANYTHING, Mr. White?” Mrs. Lyons asked Josh the next morning.
Josh lifted his head from his overflowing desk, trying not to be annoyed.
He and Daniel had to make it home on time this afternoon to whip the house into shape for their Family Services caseworker. This was their fourth home visit since Josh had been awarded temporary custody after his sister, Melanie’s, death, and they needed to demonstrate they were making progress bonding as a family. Josh couldn’t be running late because of paperwork, which meant he didn’t have time to humor one overly attentive school secretary.
In the past, Edna Lyons had always been efficient. But she’d become downright doting since Melanie died and Josh had taken responsibility for Daniel. She’d progressed from straightening and organizing everything in sight to hovering, which she was doing right now.
A Sweetbrook Family (You, Me & the Kids) Page 3
