Several threats come to mind, but I bite my tongue until it bleeds. I have no evidence to back any of them up. Yet.
With head held high, Naomi rounds the corner of her car to the driver’s side. I’ll let her think she’s won for now. But she will get what’s coming to her if it’s the last thing I do.
As they drive off, I stare at the ground, kicking at the gravel in the road. I can’t bear to see Jazz’s disappointed face in the backseat window.
When I turn toward the cottage, I spot Brian and Opal coming up the sidewalk from the lake.
“What was that about?” Brian asks.
I explain about the ballet lessons and Jazz running away and Naomi’s new boyfriend. “I did what you asked of me. I’ve given Naomi the benefit of the doubt one too many times. My staff is losing respect for me because of it. But no more. I will get my sister away from that monster.”
Opal pulls me in for a half hug. “We’re behind you all the way, Stella.”
When I look over at Brian, he nods his head in agreement. “We’ll figure it out. Billy put certain measures in place for this very reason.”
I watch mother and son walk slowly across the road and climb the steps to the terrace. Inside the cottage, I locate the flash drive my father left me. When I insert the memory stick into my laptop, my father’s face fills the screen. I’ve watched this video countless times since Brian gave it to me back in July. While I never had the pleasure of meeting my father, for six months, I’ve been living his life, seeing the inn emerge from a state of near ruin through his eyes.
He talks about his relationship with my mother, the love of his life, and his regret in not having the chance to know me. “I’ve used private investigators to keep tabs on you all these years, Stella. You’re the best of Hannah and me. You’re intelligent and independent. Your gusto for life and enthusiasm for the hospitality industry makes you the ideal person to run the inn.”
And he speaks of his affair with Naomi, and how she tried to trap him into marriage by getting pregnant. When I get to the part where he talks about Jazz, I listen carefully, as though I haven’t already committed his words to memory. “As for Jazz, I trust you’ve fallen in love with her by now. It’s easy to do. I have faith that you’ll take care of your baby sister in the event something happens to Naomi. Or in case Jazz needs you.”
The words I’m looking to hear come straight from his lips. In case Jazz needs you. She totally needs me right now. To protect her from her mother.
30
Presley
Presley wakes in a funk on Sunday morning. With the day stretching long ahead of her, she lounges in bed, scrolling through Instagram until she can no longer stand looking at pics of her friends enjoying their weekends with their significant others. She pads in bare feet to the kitchen for coffee and takes her steaming mug to the window. The sun is high in the sky, bright and happy and clashing with her dark mood. Why couldn’t it be stormy today?
She turns away from the window to face her empty living room and Big Blue. It’s not yet ten o’clock. She’ll go insane before lunchtime if she doesn’t find a way to occupy her time. She’s not in the mood for work or exercise, and while her stomach growls in hunger, she has no appetite for food. Retail therapy has worked for her in the past. Why not go out and buy something pretty, like a painting from a local artist, for her apartment?
She dresses in jeans and a fleece and brushes her hair back into a ponytail. Slipping on her running shoes, she heads down to Main Street, only to discover the art galleries are all closed. Retail therapy comes in all shapes and sizes. She’ll go to Target to tackle the long list of household items she’s been meaning to buy. But when she sees the crowded parking lot, she keeps on going. She rolls down her window, the brisk air clearing her head, and cranks the volume on Pandora’s Southern Rock Radio. With no destination in mind, she drives in a trance with her eyes on the road and her mind on Everett and Lucy. Twenty minutes later, she finds herself in the mountains. She parks at the next overlook and gets out of her car. Standing on a boulder, she stares out at the seemingly endless landscape of mountains surrounding her. The beauty of the scene takes her breath. This is God’s creation, and she’s merely a small part of his universe. Spreading her arms wide, she tilts her head back. “I’m here, God, waiting for you to show me the way.”
She lowers herself to a sitting position, and for the next two hours, she contemplates her life, where she’s been and where she’s headed. She’s on her journey. From now on, she’ll take life one day at a time, no matter what happens with Lucy and Everett.
Presley returns to town feeling revived, as though someone pushed her reset button.
She begins the new week by diving into her work, the one thing she can count on to satisfy and fulfill her. But Lucy is determined to make things difficult for her. Lucy leaves when Presley enters a room, ignores her calls, and responds to her texts and emails with curt messages. Presley understands if Lucy no longer wants to be friends, but her hostility toward Presley makes for an unhealthy work environment for the other team members. She needs to clear the air with Lucy before Stella senses the tension between them.
Midafternoon on Wednesday, Presley makes the trip to the wine cellar to confront Lucy. When the elevator doors open, Lucy is standing before her, waiting to get on. As Presley exits the elevator cart, Lucy backs herself into the cellar. Lucy, who is normally meticulously groomed, is not wearing any makeup, which underscores the inky shadows under her eyes on her pale face.
Glancing around, Presley is relieved to see they’re alone. “We need to talk.”
Lucy turns her back on Presley and enters the wine shop, going behind the checkout counter to the iPad point of sale terminal.
Presley approaches the counter. “Have you spoken to Rita yet?”
“I’ve spoken to her. Regardless of what Rita says, the situation is too coincidental for me to believe.”
“Coincidental?” Presley scoffs. “Rita confronted your parents about your adoption. Your parents gave her my parents’ contact information. Rita wrote to my mother. And my mother left the return address from the envelope in my adoption file for me to decide whether to pursue a relationship with you. The situation is anything but coincidental.”
“What about the part where you and I became friends? Are you saying that wasn’t planned?”
Presley raises a finger. “That was coincidental. I befriended you because I enjoy your company. I had no idea of your connection to Rita.”
“At lunch that day, when I was confiding in you about being date-raped and the subsequent pregnancy and adoption, did it ever occur to you that you might be my child?”
“Never. I admit the similarities in our situations hit home, but the idea that you might be my birth mother never crossed my mind. Rita is the one who lives at the return address on the envelope. I thought she was my birth mother. Since I didn’t know the two of you were sisters, I had no reason to suspect I was your child.” Presley’s throat swells, and she chokes out, “Having a rapist for a father isn’t something a girl dreams of when searching for her biological father.”
Lucy’s eyes cloud over, and she braces herself against the counter. She’s apparently never considered how any of this might affect Presley. Presley has seen a different side of Lucy these past few days. A side she doesn’t particularly care for.
Presley backs away from the counter. “I understand if you no longer want to be friends, but we have to work together. We both love our jobs. There’s no reason one of us should have to quit because of this.”
Lucy stares at Presley, her eyes glazed and expression blank.
“Just think about it, Lucy. We’ll talk more later.”
When Presley turns to leave, Lucy says to her back, “You look like them, you know?”
“Them who?” Presley asks still facing the door.
“My mother and son. I realize there’s a very good chance you’re my child. But I’m afraid. I’ve wanted this for so long.
It seems too good to be true.”
Presley doesn’t know what to say, and she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she tries to speak. She nods, her eyes glued to the basement floor as she moves from the shop to the elevator. She has no idea where they go from here. But at least this is a start.
When she emerges onto the main floor, Stella calls her into her office. “You’re just the person I want to see. Close the door. Have a seat.”
As Presley takes a seat in the chair in front of the mahogany desk, she notices Stella’s grave expression. “What’s up? Have I done something wrong?”
Stella’s lips curve into a soft smile. “Not at all. I’m beyond thrilled with your performance. I have a delicate matter I need to discuss with you that concerns Naomi. I need your word that none of this will leave this office.” She taps her desk.
Presley sits up straighter. “You can trust me, Stella.”
“I know that. But thanks for saying it, anyway.” Stella folds her hands on her desk. “How much do you know about my relationship with Naomi?”
“That Jazz is your half sister, and that your shared father’s family were the original owners of the inn. Does this have something to do with Jazz running away on Saturday night?”
“That was the icing on the cake. Billy, my father, brought me to Hope Springs not only to run the inn but also to be near Jazz. He was worried about his youngest daughter’s safety. And he had good reason. Naomi is emotionally unstable. I need to know if Naomi has done anything to cause you concern or interfere in your job in any way.”
Presley nods. “During my first week here. She claims I misquoted the room discount rate to one of my brides. I contacted the bride to confirm that I’d given her correct discount rate, which I had. There’s no way to prove Naomi was lying. In the grand scheme of things, it was not that big of a deal.”
Stella looks up from the legal pad where she’s been frantically taking notes. “Except that a lot of small deals are adding up to a very big deal. Every staff member I’ve spoken to has a similar story. Unfortunately, this big deal still isn’t enough to fire her. I’m gathering evidence in the event I need it down the road.”
“I’ll be honest with you, Stella. When I first came here, before I understood your relationship with Jazz, I couldn’t figure out why you’d hired such an unpleasant woman to be your guest services manager. Imagine what our guests must think of her.”
“To Naomi’s credit, she’s usually polite and accommodating to the guests,” Stella says. “I would never have kept her on this long otherwise.”
“Have you spoken to Everett about Naomi? Her allegations against him were the most serious.”
“I would, if I knew how to get in touch with him.” Stella positions her ink pen over paper, prepared to write. “By any chance, do you have his number?”
“Sorry. No. But if I hear from him, I’ll have him get in touch with you.”
“Please do.” Stella tosses the pen on the desk and relaxes back in her chair. “On a more cheerful note, Cecily and I are organizing a Friendsgiving for Sunday night. I plan to email the invitation this afternoon. I’m counting on you to come. Bring a date if you like.”
Presley’s ego deflates. She’s the event planner. Why didn’t she know about this Friendsgiving? “That sounds like fun,” she says in a flat tone. “What can I do to help?”
Stella shakes her head. “Not a thing. I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. The party is a way to show my appreciation to the team members for their hard work these past few months. And to say thank you in advance for the extra long hours you’ll be putting in over the holidays.”
“Speaking of which.” Presley removes her iPad from her bag. “If you have a minute, I’d like to go over my proposed calendar of events for the holidays.”
“A diversion is just what I need.” Stella checks her watch for the time. “I don’t have to be anywhere for another hour.”
For the next thirty minutes, they discuss tree lightings and Santa brunches and a dinner dance for the locals in mid-December. When Presley leave Stella’s office at almost four o’clock, she decides to finish out her workday from her apartment.
She’s sitting at her desk twenty minutes later when her phone rings with a call from an Atlanta area code. Expecting one of her brides, she answers in a cheerful tone.
“Presley, it’s Everett.” The sound of his voice warms her body, but her blood quickly runs cold.
“What do you want?”
“To explain. I have a lot of explaining to do, actually. Starting with why I left town so suddenly. My father gave my mother the beating of her life, right before he had a massive stroke and died.”
She knows so little about his background, and he’s told so many lies she’s expecting another one, but you can’t make up this kind of family dysfunction. “I’m sorry. How’s your mother?”
He lets out a sigh. “Recovering, but slowly. I’m an only child. She really needs me right now.”
Presley’s sympathy for him is short-lived. His mother is the one she feels sorry for. Not Everett. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if you’d been there instead of hiding out here from your pregnant girlfriend.”
“Carla isn’t my girlfriend, Presley. I was upfront with her from the beginning. She knew I wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship, yet she quit taking her birth control without telling me. She intentionally got pregnant to trap me into marriage. When Carla told me about the baby, I freaked out and left town. I’ve been so confused these past months. I’m not the type to shy away from my responsibilities. My mom helped me see why I was running scared. I’m afraid of being a father, scared to death I’ll turn out to be an abusive alcoholic like my old man.”
“I would be, too, in your shoes.” Presley means it as a dig, and he apparently takes it that way, as evidenced by the silence filling the line. She doesn’t need his kind of problems. Been there. Done that.
She leaves her desk and moves to the sofa. “Why did you call, Everett? What do you want?”
“To clear my name. I’m not a thief. I never spent a dime of Louie’s three thousand dollars. And Naomi’s lying about me stealing from the inn. I was checking my emails the day she caught me using her computer.”
Presley believes him. Her people reader wasn’t wrong about him. Deep down, he’s a good guy who got caught in a difficult situation.
“Stella’s the one who needs to hear this. You should call her. But I’ll warn you, she’s got a lot going on right now with Jazz.”
“Is Jazz okay?” His genuine tone is proof of how much he truly cares about the kid. And he’s worried he won’t make a good father.
“Jazz ran away from home on Saturday night. I found her hiding in the wine cellar at the inn. Stella hinted that her running away had something to do with Naomi.”
“Poor Jazz. She’s an exceptional kid. She deserves better than Naomi.”
“She deserves a father. Do you think maybe the reason you’re so worried about being a father is not because you’re afraid you’ll be a bad father but because you so desperately want to be a good one?”
Once again, silence fills the line, but Presley knows he’s still there by the sound of his heavy breathing.
“Are you going to marry her, Everett?”
“Who? Carla? Heck no! My relationship with Carla is over. You’re the one I want, Presley. I miss you.”
And I miss you so much, she thinks. There’s a chance they can work it out, but she’s not sure she wants to. So much has happened and she has so many doubts. “Why did you call, Everett?”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
Gripping the phone, she asks in a soft voice, “Are you coming back to Hope Springs?”
“I’m moving to Nashville, Presley. I signed a contract with Wade Newman at Big Country Records.”
Pressure builds in Presley’s chest, and she finds it difficult to breathe. She knows Wade Newman. Wade was her mother’s biggest adversary, but he was also Rene
e’s friend. Wade only signs the very best. Presley is not surprised, because Everett has the potential to be one of the best. This is just one more thing Everett kept from her. One more secret. She’s not interested in having a long-distance relationship with a rising country music star she can’t trust.
“Have a nice life, Rhett,” she says before hanging up on him.
31
Everett
Everett lies in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Presley. While there were awkward moments during their conversation, he was making progress with her until he made the mistake of telling her about Nashville. Why did that make her so angry? She knows music is his passion. Is it because he never told her about Wade? Does she perceive that as another lie?
She asked him twice why he called. Once, he told her to clear his name. The second time, because he wanted to hear her voice. Both true. What was his ulterior motive in calling her? What exactly does he want from Presley? A long-distance relationship? The closest airport to Hope Springs is Roanoke, and none of the airlines offer nonstop flights from Roanoke to Nashville. The seven-hour drive from Nashville to Hope Springs is faster than flying but not something anyone wants to do every weekend.
His mom’s words ring out in his head. If you think she may be the one, don’t let Presley get away. You’ve never known real happiness, and I want that for you. How does one choose between an amazing woman like Presley and a career as a country music star?
Presley was spot-on about one thing. The reason he’s so worried about being a father is not because he’s afraid he’ll be a bad father but because he so desperately wants to be a good one. He rolls over to a sitting position. After all these months of uncertainty, he understands exactly what he needs to do. Grabbing his phone off the bedside table, he sends Carla a text asking if he can see her.
Show Me the Way Page 21