Happily Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Piper Rayne

  Jillian bowed her head momentarily. Her mother knew nothing of her life of the past four years, or of her break-up with Douglas. How right they had been about him! That bitter pill threatened to choke her. She swallowed to get the taste out of her mouth and to clear her thinking.

  However, her mother's conciliatory attitude was salve to her bitterness and embarrassment—as well as her pride. The same pride that hadn't allowed her to take her parents' advice. The same pride that wouldn't accept Scott's help.

  She met her mother's steady, curious gaze. "Mom," she began in a strong voice. "Douglas and I are no longer together."

  When she'd finished relating the past four years of her life, nearly three hours had flown by. At times, both their voices were weepy, but neither dared to allow their emotions to completely overcome them. They were still in a public place.

  She mentioned Rave and Marley, but she kept Scott out of the conversation. Since there was no future between them, she didn't see the point in bringing him into the conversation. She wondered had he arrived at the Breakfast Nook.

  "You've grown, Jillian. I'm so proud of you and so sorry you went through such pain. Caused mainly by your father's and my stubbornness."

  "I needed to go through this, Mom," Jillian returned softly. "Without the experiences of the past few years, I never would have reached the place in my life that I am now."

  "Well, as of now, you're finished going through trials, darling. I'm going to see to it that your inheritance is reinstated.” Camille grabbed her handbag and flipped it open. Pulling out a small cellular phone, she punched in some numbers and waited. "I hope you can forgive your father and me for our selfishness."

  "I was a little stubborn too, Mom," Jillian conceded, curious to know who her mother was calling, barely able to believe that her mother was going to reinstate the inheritance that had been put into a trust for her at birth, but taken away from her all those years ago. "I only insisted on going with Douglas at first because you and Daddy demanded I stop seeing him."

  Moments later, punching in another number on the cell phone, Camille greeted the family accountant.

  "Hello, Richard. I have a small matter I would like for you to handle immediately.” She listened for a moment. "Yes, well, I understand that, but you remember my daughter? Yes, Jillian. I need some funds transferred into her account by the end of the day. Hold on. I'll ask her."

  "How much do you need?"

  Jillian counted the numbers in her head, but hesitated to tell her mother exactly how much money she needed. After all, she had never quite known how much she stood to inherit, and, although she hadn't asked for the money her mother was now offering, it still felt as if she had failed. However, her mother lost patience and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  "I want ten percent of her money transferred to her accounts today. I'm sure Jillian can manage until her father gives her the rest of it.” Camille gave her an encouraging smile. "Yes, Richard. That's right. Two hundred fifty. All right. I'll stop by with her account number within the hour.” With that, Camille snapped the phone closed and wagged a finger at Jillian. "I don't want you to think you're a failure, Jillian Riley! You've earned this money!"

  "Earned the money?" Jillian asked, incredulous.

  "By right of your birth, darling, that money is yours."

  "Mother, please. There are poor, starving children out there, but I've earned two hundred fifty dollars because I was born a Riley?"

  "Two hundred fifty hundred dollars?" Camille gasped. "Wherever did you get that number from?"

  "You told Richard to have two hundred fifty dollars transferred to my account, Mom, ten percent of my inheritance."

  "I see," Camille said with a laugh. "Let's tend to the bill, darling."

  Jillian reached for her purse, and took out her credit card.

  "Put that back, you poverty stricken thing," Camille teased. "You can't afford to pay for this yet."

  Jillian laughed, her mother's tone easing the tension. "I was hoping you'd say that."

  Once Camille took care of the bill, they went outside and stood in front of the restaurant, awaiting Camille's limousine.

  "Darling, I need your account number for the transfer."

  Jillian relayed the information to her. "Thank you, Mother."

  "Of course. You're my baby and I love you. And I'm just dying to see your Breakfast Nook. Will you invite me soon?”

  "Of course, Mom. You're welcomed anytime, as long as you promise not to interfere."

  "Me? Interfere? Bite your tongue. I promise not to, Jillian. I think from what you've told me you are capable of taking care for your own affairs."

  A long black limousine stopped before Camille. The driver, whom Jillian didn't recognize, hurried to open the door. Camille hugged Jillian fiercely then got into the car. After the driver closed the door, Camille rolled the window down.

  "Oh, yeah. Regarding your two hundred fifty?"

  "Yeah, Mom."

  "You've always been a latent philanthropist. Now, you'll have enough money to save the whales if you care to. But I implore you to learn to count better. You'll need those skills to manage your money. By five o'clock this afternoon, you're going to have two hundred fifty thousand dollars in your account. Ta, darling."

  Camille rolled the window back up, and the limousine moved swiftly out of the space it had occupied.

  Jillian stared after the slow moving vehicle, speechless. The air whooshed from her body, then returned just as quickly, dizzying her. Her mother was joking with her. She had to be! Jillian's luck wasn't as good as that. Not only did it seem as if she and her parents were reconciling painlessly, but it appeared that Jillian would soon become a millionaire.

  Her mother was having ten percent of her inheritance transferred. Her trust fund had been worth two point five million dollars?

  In essence, she was now a millionaire!

  14

  When Jillian arrived home an hour later, she almost succumbed to giddiness. In the blink of an eye, her financial problems had been solved. Her inn would be saved and her bills paid up. She wouldn't have to accept Scott's goodbye gift, which was tantamount to charity in her eyes. Instead, she would hire all the help she needed herself. She could save the whales, feed the hungry, and crusade for the environment if she desired. Best of all, she could breathe easy for the rest of her life.

  Dropping into a chair in the kitchen, she meandered her gaze around the room. Her kitchen. Truly hers, lock, stock, and barrel. Laughter bubbled inside her and sound exploded from her. She covered her mouth with her hands, unsure why, not caring who heard her screams of joy.

  "Jilly, are you okay?"

  At the sound of Ally Gator's voice, Jillian jumped from her seat. She twirled around the room and shouted again. Then she took Ally into her arms and pirouetted around the floor with her.

  "Ally! It's a glorious day, isn't it? My mother and I have reconciled our differences and by the end of the day my financial problems will be a thing of the past."

  “That's wonderful, dear.” Ally dislodged herself from Jillian's embrace. "Calm down and tell me what has happened? You know, Bobbie Q. and I will be leaving in a couple of hours and we wanted to tell you and your young man goodbye."

  "You haven't seen Scott today?"

  Ally shook her head, bringing attention to the newly-frosted blond ends of her blue hair.

  Some of her euphoria evaporating, Jillian walked to the closet and looked inside. Sure enough, Scott's tools set neatly in place, untouched.

  Where could he be? No matter what happened between them, he always showed up for work. He wasn't finished with the job yet. The wooden cabinet encasing the refrigerator still had to be primed and the bricks in the walls had yet to be refurbished. So what had happened?

  The thought crossed her mind that she should telephone him, but since she didn't know what reception she would get from him, she hesitated to do that. She would hear from him eventually, after he got over his pique from last night
. But Scott didn't strike her as being a person who sulked because he was angry. Yet if he wasn't angry, exactly what was wrong? She hated speculating.

  "Give me a hug, Jillian," Ally said. "I'm going up to help Bobbie Q. finish packing. It's been a pleasure, dear. We'll be back for Labor Day."

  Jillian hugged the charming old lady tightly. "You're welcomed back anytime, Ally."

  After a short while, Rave was there to bring Bobbie Q. and Ally Gator to the airport. It turned out to be a mass exodus because Jesse the Texan followed soon after, and so did the six remaining guests, leaving Jillian totally alone until the next guests were due to arrive at various times during the next few days.

  By the time nightfall arrived, she was finished tidying the rooms in preparation for the new arrivals, but she still hadn't heard from Scott. Beginning to worry, once she completed a small, lonely supper and had a hot shower, she gave in to the urge to telephone his company.

  "Hi, you've reached Scott Martin and Town & Country Builders. I'm sorry but I'm unavailable—"

  Jillian slammed the receiver down and leaned her back against her headboard, disheartened and frustrated. She wanted to talk to Scott, not his machine. She wasn't sure what she would say to him, beyond asking why he hadn't come in to work. But there was so much she was bursting to tell him. In the nearly forty-eight hours she had last seen him her life had changed for the better.

  If he was inclined to agree, she could even spend time with him in Memphis. That thought crossed her mind without warning, and immediately she chastised herself. Whatever demons Scott fought was beside the point. She had her business to think about and now that she had the money she could finally get it to the point where she always longed to have it.

  She could hire a very competent staff to take care of things in her stead. But they would need to be trained, and there was no one but herself to do that.

  Yet her business wouldn't warm her on lonely nights, cheer her on hectic days, or be with her during holidays and birthdays. Her business was a poor substitute for the joys of motherhood. Marley seemed to thrive in her kids and her relationship with Howie, and she didn't seem to miss her work as a registered nurse. Even Rave and Melba would soon become parents.

  Where was Jillian at in her life? In the blink of an eye, her financial woes had been cured, her inn saved, and she and her parents reconciled, but suddenly she realized it just wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted Scott and Timmy and everything else that went with that. Her cured money problems weren't a cure-all, after all.

  Maybe if he knew how she truly felt, things would be different between them. Maybe he could put things into perspective. Did he believe bringing his company to national recognition would alleviate his pain and loneliness? She didn't believe that he had. Running away wasn't the answer.

  The ringing of the telephone interrupted her thoughts. Picking it up before the second ring finished, she said, "Hello."

  "Hello, Jilly."

  The gruff, masculine voice wasn't Scott's, but still a very welcomed sound. It was her father, who sounded far away, as if he used a speakerphone.

  "Are you there, baby?"

  "Daddy?” Her tone was a mere whisper and full of tears. How she'd missed him these past years. The black hair, neatly trimmed moustache that had once given him a rakish air was probably now laced with touches of gray. She could only imagine how distinguished it made her father look coupled with his dark eyes and healthy skin tone. "I've missed you," she blurted before she could stop herself.

  Taylor sniffled. "I've missed you too, honey. Your mother tells me you've become quite a beautiful, independent woman. I'm so sorry I acted like such a jackass, Jillian. But that Douglas person was all wrong for you."

  "I know," Jillian conceded. "But I couldn't see it then. I apologize for—"

  "It's in the past. I was calling for two things actually. First, your mother and I are leaving for Europe tomorrow. We'll be gone two weeks or so, but we want to test our new plane out, so I thought Camille would benefit from a day or two in the Alps and a little shopping in France. We want you to come. Let us pamper you a little while."

  A day or two in the Swiss Alps? Jillian hadn't visited her parents' Swiss chalet in years. While the thought was tempting, she couldn't go. Not now. She had too much to sort out.

  "I can't, Daddy. I have to see to my inn. I have to hire a staff and catch up on my accounts. May I have a rain check?” Not knowing what to say, she decided against mentioning Scott to her parents.

  "Of course you can, baby. Whenever you're ready to cash it in, I'll have the jet fueled and anything you want at your beck and call."

  "Thanks, but I wouldn't want anything too fancy."

  "Whatever, Jillian. The choice is yours. I never could win a battle with you when you decided to feel guilty about the money you were born into. Damned foolish, but the choice is yours...Ow!"

  "Taylor Riley, I told you not to mention anything that might start an argument!"

  "Dammit, Camille, you pinched me!"

  "And if you don't watch your mouth, I'll do more than that to you. Jilly, ignore your father. We understand your quirks, darling. Always remember that. Now tell her the rest, Taylor."

  "I spoke to Howard Gibson, your friend at Commons Bank. It'll take him a couple of days to do all the paperwork, but the Breakfast Book is yours."

  "Uh, Daddy, it's the Breakfast Nook."

  "Yeah, whatever. It's still yours. You know what Shakespeare said? What's in a name? A rose is a rose. By any other name, it would still smell as sweet. By any other name, your inn is still all paid for and is yours. The other thing is, I couldn't transfer as much as I wanted to you today. I could only do a half million and you have to wait three days for it to clear. Howard did say he would try to have fifty thousand available for you tomorrow. When I get back, I'll advise you on investments."

  "Only if she wants, Taylor!" Camille said sharply.

  "Of course. Your mother's right, Jillian. Whatever you want."

  "What time are you leaving tomorrow?"

  "Bright and early," Taylor said with a groan. "Your mother rises with the roosters."

  "Oh," Jillian said, slightly disappointed. "I was thinking to meet you at the airport to tell you goodbye. And just to see you again."

  "That would be fabulous, Jillian!" Camille exclaimed. "The plane leaves for seven thirty, so meet us for six and we can have breakfast on the plane."

  Jillian smiled. "I'll see you then."

  "Ciao, darling," Camille said.

  "Bye, Mother, Daddy. I love you."

  "We love you too."

  Deep in thought, Scott sat behind his desk in his office. He regretted the less-than-amiable parting he’d had with Jillian. His offer had come from a sincere desire to help and protect her, but, after wrestling most of the day with how wrongs things had gone on their date, he realized he was pushing her too fast. He didn’t know how to stop himself because he’d fallen in love with her.

  Grimly, he rubbed his throbbing temples. After vowing that he wouldn’t ever involve himself seriously in a relationship, he’d fallen head-over-heels in a few short weeks. How had it happened?

  It happened because of who Jillian was. She was loving, witty, charming, self-sufficient, and oozing with artless sexuality. How could he not have fallen in love with her? Jillian Riley was a woman Scott wanted in his and Timmy’s life forever. He had to remember, however, once he straightened this fiasco out, to let her go at her own pace. Her independence was her most important achievement. If she needed or wanted his help, she would ask him.

  Reaching for the phone, he picked up the receiver, intending to dial Jillian’s number. After all, he hadn’t spoken to her at all yesterday. He’d apologize to her for his insistence and then pray they’d proceed to what he knew would be the love affair of the century. Kayla’s appearance ended his intentions.

  A dark frown crept into his countenance.

  “Whoa!” Kayla said, holding her hands up in mock surrender.
“Who forgot to feed you your raw meat this morning?”

  “You’re not funny, Kayla,” Scott snapped, annoyed at her intrusion, slamming the receiver back onto its cradle. Lately, Kayla seemed to be everywhere. At his house. At his office. At Timmy’s baseball games. “What can I do for you?”

  All animation left Kayla’s face and her features took on a stricken look. “I…” Her voice trailed off. She backed towards the door. “I-I’ll just come back a little later. You seem rather preoccupied.”

  Before Scott could respond, Kayla exited. He thought of calling her back in, but decided against it at the moment. He didn’t want to deal with Kayla and her less-than-subtle flirting. Not today. Today, thoughts of Jillian and their disastrous date cluttered Scott’s mind.

  Following through with his original intent, he dialed Jillian’s private number, but didn’t get a response. When he called the number to the Breakfast Nook, he got the answering machine. Wanting to talk to her, he decided against leaving a message. To him, a message seemed so impersonal at the moment, when their relationship was in such a critical state. He’d call back a little later. They inn and her determination to see it succeed always kept her quite busy, so she wouldn’t be away too long.

  Scott smiled. Jillian was something of a workaholic, just as he was. Until now, his work ethics and ambitions had never bothered him. He was happy as long as his business thrived. He loved his little brother, but he was just as content with leaving Timmy with their housekeeper, as he chased jobs big and small. It was the American dream.