Puzzle Pieces (Second Chance Romance)

by Rachael Bloome

  One, in particular, caught her attention. A statement from Elinor to her younger sister, Marianne, when she finally spoke up regarding the engagement of Edward, the man she loved, to another woman.

  “And after all, Marianne, after all that is bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment, and all that can be said of one's happiness depending entirely on any particular person, it is not meant—it is not fit—it is not possible that it should be so.”

  Elle read the paragraph several times, trying to make sense of it. And as she did so, Graham’s words from the day at the museum crowded in.

  “You’re operating under the assumption that there’s only one other person in this world who is a perfect fit for you. But what if it’s not that simple? What if it boils down to making a choice? And then, once you make that choice, you choose that person again and again, every single day, no matter what, for the rest of your lives.”

  Could Graham be right? Was love a choice, more than fate or destiny? She’d always thought the idea of soulmates to be incredibly romantic. She’d thought that’s what her parents had—two puzzle pieces, meant to be. But what if that wasn’t what made their love so special after all?

  Her parents chose each other. They chose to love, to forgive, to fight for each other, to never give up.

  Up until the very end, they chose.

  Elle’s eyes burned with tears as she recalled a memory she’d never shared with anyone before—something the police officer told her the day she’d received the news of her parents’ deaths.

  At the scene of the accident, her parents were found buckled in their seats, pinned in the upside-down Subaru. Multiple injuries meant they didn’t suffer long before passing away. But a small detail only a few knew about drew a sob from Elle’s throat each time she allowed herself to remember.

  Her parents were found holding hands.

  In their dying moment, they had reached for each other.

  One final opportunity to choose.

  And they’d chosen each other.

  Tears cascaded down Elle’s cheeks, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  Suddenly, she realized what she needed to do.

  Pushing aside the Kindle, she reached for her laptop.

  * * *

  “I take it you heard the news,” Dean said, observing Graham’s melancholy expression.

  “Huh?” Graham looked up from his untouched sandwich on the kitchen island. When they’d arrived at the vineyard to go over wedding preparations, his mother had insisted on making him lunch. But even his favorite—tuna on rye—couldn’t stir his appetite.

  Dean slid onto the barstool next to him. “Did Mom or Jess tell you? I knew you’d be disappointed, but you look like someone punched you in the stomach.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The wedding’s been moved up.”

  “What?” Graham blinked in confusion.

  “Man, from the look on your face, I thought you knew.” Dean reached for Graham’s plate and slid it across the counter. “Jess’s brother just called. He was able to get an earlier flight. We’re moving up the date so she can have her dream Valentine’s Day wedding.”

  “You guys are insane! That’s two days away.”

  Dean shrugged and shoved half of the tuna sandwich into his mouth. “Everything’s basically done. We had to pay the vendors a buttload of money to change the date. And we lost the band we wanted, and have to go with a DJ, but Jess didn’t seem to mind. The payoff is worth it to her.”

  “Okay…” Graham said slowly. “So, if everything is working out so well, why would you assume I’d be disappointed?”

  “Because it means you can’t be Elle’s date to her big work party.”

  Graham glanced down at the spot his sandwich recently vacated. He knew he’d have to tell Dean eventually, but he had hoped for later rather than sooner. “Yeah, about that…”

  “Did you screw it up?”

  Graham winced.

  Softening, Dean patted him on the back. “Sorry, man. Wanna talk about it?”

  “There isn’t much to say. She made it pretty clear she doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend.”

  Dean cleared his throat. “You sure?”

  “Pretty darn sure. I suppose it’s not too surprising, considering she’s turned me down before. Guess I’d hoped things would be different this time. Go ahead, call me an idiot. I sure feel like one.”

  Dean opened his mouth to speak, but before a word came out, Jess barged in.

  “There you are! We move the wedding up a week, and you think you have time for a lunch break?” She marched across the kitchen and grabbed both men by the arm, yanking them off of the stools. “Those twinkle lights aren’t going to string themselves! And I want the vineyard to sparkle more than the stars.”

  Graham swallowed, suddenly regretting his brother’s venue choice. The last thing he wanted was to spend another Valentine’s Day in the vineyard without Elle.

  But what choice did he have?

  Chapter Nine

  Giddy, Elle skipped into Lacey’s office, eager to show her what she’d been working on. “Lace, I—“ She froze in her tracks at the sight of Jason sitting opposite Lacey’s desk.

  He rose when he saw her.

  “What’s going on?” Elle asked, directing her question at Lacey.

  “Jason has something to tell you.” Lacey waved a hand toward the twin armchair next to Jason. “Sit.”

  Jason returned to his seat and waited for Elle to join him.

  Without a word, Elle perched on the edge of the chair, resting her laptop across both knees.

  “I have a confession to make,” Jason said with a contrite expression.

  Elle glanced at Lacey, who gave an encouraging nod.

  “I was the one who sent you those messages on Puzzle.”

  Elle balked. “No. That’s impossible.”

  For a moment, Jason looked surprised at her adamant assertion. But he quickly recovered. “It’s true. I knew you were having a tough time with all of the changes. And I wanted to offer some words of encouragement, to point you in the right direction. I can see now it had the opposite effect.”

  Elle sat dumbly while his words sank in. Jason sent those messages? She couldn’t believe it. Confused, she pressed a hand to her temple.

  “You okay?” Lacey asked.

  “I’m fine.” Elle attempted a wry smile. “In shock, I think.”

  Jason leaned forward. “Again, I’m sorry. I had no idea my messages had confused you until the other day in the conference room. If I’d known I was sending you in the wrong direction…” He chuckled. “Well, let’s just say it was a close call.”

  Elle blinked, completely disoriented. What was happening?

  Lacey giggled. “No kidding! You almost sabotaged your own plan!”

  “Wait, what are you saying?” Elle asked, glancing between them.

  Jason’s brow furrowed, as though confused by her lack of understanding. “Now that the mistake has been cleared up, we can go through with the marketing strategy. In the nick of time, too.”

  “Talk about cutting it close.” Lacey grinned.

  Jason sprung from the chair. “I have lots of work to do to be ready for tomorrow night. I’ll see you ladies at the party.”

  In three smooth strides he was out the door.

  Lacey moved to his vacated seat and leaned forward, placing a hand over Elle’s. “To be clear, I don’t condone what he did. He never should have sent you those messages. It was unprofessional. Not to mention, it totally backfired. But he came clean. And he had good intentions.”

  Elle didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Nothing made sense.

  “Come on, let’s take the day off!” Lacey bounced to her feet. “We deserve a spa day.” She grabbed Elle’s laptop, setting in on her desk. “No work for the next twenty-four hours.” Pulling Elle to her feet, she slipped her hand through the crook in her arm. “It’ll all turn out okay. I p
romise.”

  Elle forced a thin smile, knowing that was one promise Lacey couldn’t keep.

  * * *

  “Cheer up!” Dean slapped Graham on the back, sloshing his glass of champagne. “It’s the night before my wedding, not my funeral.”

  “Yeah, that event would be a lot more lively,” Graham goaded.

  “Ouch! Cold, man, cold.” Dean chuckled, then immediately sobered. “You’re still upset about Elle, aren’t you?”

  Graham toyed with the stem of his champagne flute. Upset was probably an understatement. But the night before Dean’s wedding wasn’t the right time to talk about it. And on the veranda of their parents’ estate, with over fifty guests milling about in cocktail attire… Well, it probably wasn’t the right place, either. He attempted a smile. “All is good.”

  Dean narrowed his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.” He searched the crowd until he spotted Jess chatting animatedly with a small group of friends near the hors d’oeuvres. Turning back to Graham, he said, “Come over here for a sec.”

  Graham followed Dean around the corner, where the veranda tapered off into a Juliette balcony. Their mother’s rose garden stretched out below them.

  “If you’re going to propose,” Graham teased, “may I remind you that you’re already committed to Jess?”

  “Very funny,” Dean said, but he didn’t laugh. In fact, he looked more serious than Graham had ever seen him.

  Graham’s radar immediately went off. If Dean even hinted at backing out on Jess, he’d push him off the balcony. “What’s wrong?”

  Dean set his glass on the railing and reached inside his suit jacket. “Before I tell you, remember that Mom loves those rose bushes. If my lifeless body crushes one of them, she’ll never forgive you.”

  Clearly, they were on the same page.

  Graham’s heart pounded in anticipation of his brother’s cold-feet confession. He wouldn’t seriously call things off with Jess, would he?

  “Noted,” Graham said, eyeing his brother warily.

  Dean sighed and retrieved a sheet of three-ring binder paper from his jacket pocket.

  Slowly, painfully, Dean unfolded the crumpled wad, and Graham caught a glimpse of the handwriting.

  Then he saw the words at the bottom.

  His heart stopped.

  Will you be my valentine?

  In shaky hands, Dean held Graham’s note to Elle. Had she been so heartless as to give it back? And why had Dean kept it all these years?

  Graham’s chest heaved, and he concentrated on steadying his breath. “What the heck, Dean? Why do you have that?”

  Dean ran a hand through his hair, his face contorted in genuine distress. “Guilt, mostly.”

  “Guilt? Why?”

  Dean released a strangled breath and leaned over the railing, his head in his hands. When he finally looked at Graham, his eyes were clouded with regret. “I never gave it to her!”

  He practically yelled the words, and Graham took a step back as though he’d been struck. “What?”

  Dean waved the letter like a white flag. “The note! I never gave the note to Elle!”

  Graham’s throat went dry and he tried to swallow against the increasing tightness. “Wh-why?”

  Dean threw his head back and groaned. “Because I liked her, okay? I liked Elle.” After this admission, he buried his face in his hands again, crumpling the letter in his fist.

  Graham had never seen his brother in so much agony. And, as angry as he was, Graham almost felt sorry for him.

  Almost.

  Graham clenched his fist, commanding every ounce of strength not to punch Dean square in the face. “So, what, you decided to take her for yourself? Because Dean always gets what he wants?”

  “I know, I know! I’m a jerk.”

  “I can think of a few other names that would be more fitting.”

  “Look.” Dean sighed. “I had planned to ask her out. And if she said no, I’d give her the letter. But…”

  “But what?” Graham pressed, digging his clipped fingernails into his palm.

  “But she came to the house looking for you.”

  Graham waited in excruciating silence for Dean to continue, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand.

  “You weren’t home, so she left a message with me.”

  “What message?” Graham had a sinking feeling in his gut, and he wasn’t sure he could bear to hear the answer.

  “She… she wanted to ask you out. For Valentine’s Day.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Dean shut his eyes, as if bracing for impact.

  Graham gritted his teeth so hard, a sharp pang shot to his temple. All these years, they could have been together. He thought about how miserable he’d felt, assuming she’d turned him down, leaving him alone in the vineyard to wait for nothing. All because his brother was used to getting the girl.

  Suddenly, a thought struck Graham. Elle had gone all these years thinking he’d turned her down, too. The thought of being the reason for her heartache caused every muscle in his body to tense with anger.

  “Hit me. Go ahead. I deserve it.” Dean screwed his eyes shut, preparing for a solid blow.

  Graham raised his fist. Dean did deserve it. If not for his own sake, then for Elle’s.

  Dean cringed. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but can you avoid the face? Jess will murder me if I ruin the wedding photos.”

  Graham narrowed his eyes.

  “Okay, okay. You can go for the face. But don’t break anything.”

  Graham watched as Dean closed his eyes and turned his head to the side. Then, with a sigh, he lowered his fist.

  Dean cracked his eyes open. “Hurry up, man. The suspense is killing me.”

  Graham shook his head. “You’ve been torturing yourself all these years. You’ve done my job for me.” And he meant it. It was evident that keeping the secret had weighed on Dean for a long time. As messed up as it was, Graham knew his brother loved him. And sacrificing Graham's happiness for his own selfish pride had been eating at him for years. Nothing would be a greater punishment than that.

  “What? No! You have to,” Dean insisted. “Come on. One solid jab. Right to the jaw.”

  Graham shook his head again.

  “Come on, man. Do something. Throw your drink at me, at least.”

  Graham couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of his brother’s request. “No, we’re good, Dean. Honestly.”

  Dean lunged forward and snatched Graham’s champagne flute. “Here,” he said, dousing himself with the bubbly liquid. Then he turned to grab his own glass, but Graham stepped in front of him.

  “Dude, it’s okay. We’re good. I promise. You don’t need to waste good champagne.”

  When Dean sighed, his entire body hunched forward, as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”

  “I think I do.”

  A moment of silence passed before Dean murmured, “Thanks.”

  Dean held his gaze, and Graham knew he meant it. “I’d hug it out, but I think one of us should stay dry.”

  Both brothers shared a laugh, and Dean slung his arm around Graham’s shoulder as they headed back to the party. “So, what are you going to do about Elle?”

  “I have an idea.”

  Graham just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Ten

  Every detail of the party sparkled with perfection. Thanks to one of Rob’s restaurant connections, all fifty guests, decked out in red carpet-worthy attire, sipped custom cocktails in an exquisite dining room overlooking the bay. Through floor-to-ceiling picture windows, Treasure Island glimmered in the distance, offering a stunning view no decorator—no matter their fee—could ever hope to achieve.

  Rather than clutter the room with formal dining, Lacey and Elle opted for tall bistro tables to encourage mingling between their guests. Servers cruised the room, offering mouth-watering hors d’oeuvres like caviar tartlets, lobster crostini, and sweet ch
ili spring rolls. To quench their thirst, guests could choose between a dry bar boasting everything from kombucha to Evian or a specialty bar serving cocktails with names like Puzzle Punch and Soulmate Cider. Both bars glittered with illuminated ice sculptures carved into giant puzzle pieces. A detail Lacey didn’t hesitate to take credit for when party-goers oohed and aahed over the ostentatious display.

  As Elle watched her friend gush over the ice sculptures to yet another admirer, her heart filled with affection. Lacey was a knock-out in her figure-hugging crimson gown that swept the mahogany floor. She wore her long blonde hair twisted into a simple updo, and coupled with old Hollywood-style makeup, she could have passed for Grace Kelly. Rob looked equally glamorous by her side, dressed in a slick black tux and matching red tie.

  They both radiated happiness, and Elle wished she could join in the celebration. But her heart wouldn’t have any of it. She’d tried to rationalize going forward with Jason’s plan. But knowing he’d sent the messages didn’t change what she knew to be true. And she couldn’t give the announcement with him, no matter the cost.

  “Are you ready?” As if reading her mind, Jason appeared beside her and shoved a glass of champagne into her hand.

  No doubt about it—the man cleaned up well. Rather than a basic black tuxedo, he wore a silky gray suit with pinstripes in a slightly darker shade. Underneath, a deep cobalt-blue button-up highlighted his fit frame and his calculating eyes of the same color.

  Elle stalled by taking a sip of bubbly. The crisp, fruity liquid tickled the back of her throat as she swallowed it down. Finally, she let out a steady breath and said, “No, I’m not ready.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Besides, in that dress, I doubt anyone will notice if you stumble over a word or two.”

  Elle shivered as his gaze trailed the length of her body, and for the first time since getting dressed earlier that evening, she thought about her appearance. While Lacey opted for a bold red, Elle chose a simple aubergine silk dress with thin straps and an open back. She’d let her dark hair fall about her shoulders in loose waves. While understated, Elle knew the dress afforded an alluring silhouette. But she didn’t want it to appeal to Jason. In fact, if she was honest, there was only one man she wanted to take notice.