by Zane Morrow
The Harper’s Island Duet
Zane Morrow
Contents
The Best Man, Book One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
The Princess, Book Two
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About Zane
The Best Man, Book One
The Best Man
Harper’s Island: Book One
by
Zane Morrow
Copyright © 2017 by Zane Morrow
1st Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Marisa Shor of Cover Me, Darling
Formatting by: Love Kissed Books
Created with Vellum
1
“Don’t forget to call the printer. Check on delivery of the T-shirts.” I stare at my assistant, Mandy. We only have a month before our campers arrive for the summer at Camp Hope, which makes this the worst time to be gone for a week. Mandy is more than capable of managing the operation in my absence, but I like to be hands on. Though I trust her, I’m not thrilled to be taking off right now.
“Grace, I got this. Go enjoy your vacation.” She rolls her eyes.
“Vacation? More like hell on earth. Maid of honor duties.” I sigh while Mandy laughs at me. The fact she finds this humorous does not help me. Mandy is aware that my life here conflicts with my life on Harper’s Island. I grew up on the Island thanks to my stepfather, but I wasn’t meant to be a trophy wife. Even though we weren’t wealthy like most of the island inhabitants, our family was well respected.
Camp Hope has always been more than a job for me. My mother sent me as a child after finding out about the camp from my stepfather’s old school friend. Ben Morgan created the camp for children who had lost a parent due to war. The place was meant to be a solace, somewhere kids like me could feel normal while we worked through our grief. Ben became my mentor over the years as I went from camper to counselor. Once I had my degree in hand, he hired me to take over the day-to-day operations of Camp Hope. When he died last year of a sudden heart attack, I was devastated.
“Go, woman.” Mandy pushes me toward the door.
“Fine! Sheesh.” I laugh as I exit the building. “I’ll come talk to you once more before I leave.” Then I walk across the dirt and pine straw path from the office to my cabin. I enter my humble abode, which I’m happy to call home, and begin questioning how I ended up here. My life hasn’t been terribly challenging, but it hasn’t been exactly easy, either. When I was five years old, my father was killed in a skirmish fought in Somalia while stationed overseas. Two years later, my mom married Doctor Lincoln Hightower. We went from typical middle-class family to living in the world of the filthy rich overnight. Life was good, and because I was young, I adapted well. My stepfather’s position as general practitioner to the wealthy ensured a comfortable lifestyle while we mingled with billionaires.
At the age of ten, I attended Camp Hope for the first time. There, I finally found friends who understood what it was like to have lost parents in war; to truly understand they sacrificed their lives while protecting our freedoms and saving others. I spent the next six years as a camper. The two years I was too old to be a camper, but not old enough to be a counselor were awful. I remember begging my mother and Lincoln to take me up there during the summer so I could go to help with the yearly production the campers put on.
I finish packing up the last few items I needed for the week. I carry my luggage out to my car and toss it in the trunk before wandering back over to the office to say goodbye to Mandy.
“Grace, this came while you were packing.” She hands me a sealed envelope.
The return address shows it’s from Morgan Enterprises. I step into my office and sit down at my desk as I tear open the envelope. I scan the brief letter, and my heart sinks into my chest. I place it all back in the envelope.
“I’ll see you in a week. Call me if you need me.” I paste a smile on my face as I tell Mandy goodbye. I’m not about to reveal the contents of the letter and cause her worry, but it’s all I’m going to think about as I make the drive to Harper’s Island. Obviously while I was there, I was going to be looking for one Mr. Blake Morgan too.
I’d only dealt with Blake a couple of times since he took over his father’s business, but he wasn’t my favorite person. He had no idea who I really was, and the few times we’d interacted, he essentially ignored me each time. In our social circle, he was notorious for his playboy ways and because of his stature, the media constantly speculated about his love life. He was the guy the moms always chased for their daughters, or maybe they searched for some extra marital fun. In the past, I never really cared enough. This week, I would be borderline obsessed with Blake Morgan.
My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel. I’m fighting back hot angry tears. Ben Morgan would be heart sick if he knew what his son was up to right now. Who did he think he was, announcing he’d be closing the camp after this summer season? He had no clue what he was doing. Too many kids and their families needed this camp for support during the grieving period.
I was going to come up with a plan if it killed me. By the end of the week I’d come up with a scheme to save Camp Hope and change Blake Morgan’s mind. I had no idea what this brilliant master plan was yet, but it was going to have to be good. I probably should’ve spoken to Mandy before I left the camp, but I didn’t know what to say at the time. I press the button on my earpiece. “Call Mandy.”
It's not long before the phone is ringing and Mandy picks up on the other end. I don’t even take the time to greet her properly. Instead, I blurt out, “I need your help.”
Mandy is soon filled in with the contents of the letter. “Wow.” She’s silent a moment, then she asks, “Isn’t Blake the best man at the wedding.”
“Sadly, yes.” I sigh, now dreading the wedding even more.
“Doesn’t this mean you’ll be paired with him all weekend?” She sounds almost giddy.
“Yes, Mandy,” I grumble.
She claps her hands together. “I think you should seduce him.”
I chuckle. “I’m not sure that would work. The guy barely acknowledges me.”
She huffs. “Do you want to save Camp Hope or not?”
My shoulders slump. She has a point. “Fine. Research Blake Morgan. We need to figure out what he likes. If I’m doing this, I need an in.”
“Got it, boss.” She giggles and I can hear the keys on the laptop clicking already.
The idea of sitting on the phone while she researches makes me uncomfortable, so I end our call. Even though we don’t have a solution yet, after speaking with Mandy, I feel better about the situation. We can work together as we always do and find a way to save the camp, which means so much to us.
2
The ferry pulls up to Harper’s Island. I stand on deck watching as the shoreline gets closer. It
’s like entering a parallel universe when on the Island. This is where the people with serious money have summer homes and vacation, along with a few who live here year-round. I’ve grown up on this Island. My stepfather’s practice was here. Of course, we lived in a small cottage compared to some of the homes. With only six bedrooms, it was considered small by Harper Island standards.
The height of summer season was just beginning. I’d be staying with my mom and Lincoln this week, which would be a nice change, since we didn’t usually see each other during the summer at all. Camp Hope kept me away and parties kept mom at the cottage. The rest of the bridal party was staying at Brooke’s parent's summer place, since they weren’t from here.
The shoreline is beautiful with its white sandy beaches and environmentally designed docks and buildings on the water. The minute I see the gorgeous stone wall around the docking area I get excited, the same as I always did as a little girl. Seeing it signals my arrival. Soon I drive my little SUV off the ferry and down main street. The quaint old village, with its cobblestone paths and stone buildings, houses some of the best clothing designers as well as other items the seriously wealthy love to waste money on. My favorite is the little bookstore on the corner of Main Street and Lighthouse Lane. It’s quaint with its basic coffee bar and overstuffed furniture dispersed throughout. I almost want to stop there first, but I’m sure my mother would have a fit if she found out I didn’t rush straight to the cottage.
As I pass it, I vow to visit the place once or twice this week. I spent many a summer curled up on a couch with my summer reading over the years. I make a left onto Dunes Drive and begin taking in the familiar sites of the beachfront McMansions. I’m struck by the amount of money spent on these summer homes, which were only used a few months each year and muse what it must be like to afford this lifestyle. This is a huge contrast compared to the bulk of my campers whose families live in apartments the size of a bathroom in one of these mansions. Since I’ve seen both sides of life, I work hard to live on my salary. If my paycheck doesn’t cover it, I don't buy it even though my mom and Lincoln still put money into an account for me every month. I haven’t touched it since college.
Instead, this money has turned into a tidy little savings. They deposit a grand a month and I don’t touch it, so it adds up. Maybe one day I’ll figure out what to do with it. Though the account makes me uncomfortable, I’ve quit trying to talk Lincoln out of it. He says I’m his only child and he’s allowed to spoil me until I marry, and then he’ll let my husband take over. The poor man is completely out of touch. He’s a great man, and I love him dearly, but he’s only understands the life of the elite, since his father was also a physician on Harper’s Island. This is a family tradition. I worry what will happen when he retires some day with no one to take over the practice.
Money is soon forgotten as I’m reminded of Camp Hope closing. I just don’t understand what Blake was thinking. I wonder if the board members knew he had done this yet. I’m guessing probably not. Brett came to the camp more with his father than Blake ever did. I remember all the girls gathering to giggle and stare at the handsome Morgan boys. I admit they are pretty men to look at even today. If Brett were in charge of the camp, I’d probably have an easier time saving it. Instead, it’s Blake I have to deal and, obviously, he’ll be a tougher sale.
“Grace.” My mom taps on the driver’s window.
I jump. I’ve been sitting in the driveway, staring off into the distance for several minutes. Slowly, I shut my car off and gradually open the door.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought.” As I step out of the vehicle and face her, my mother’s arms wrap me in a gentle hug and the smell of jasmine surrounds me.
“I noticed. Is everything okay?” There’s no mistaking the concern in her voice or the way her brows nearly meet in the center of her forehead.
“Not really.” I sigh. “I received some bad news right before I drove out here.” I move to the trunk and pull my luggage out, setting it on the ground as Frank, the butler, comes rushing from around the side of the house.
“My apologies,” he gushes as he picks up my baggage. “I didn’t hear you pull in.”
“Frank, relax! You know neither of us cares.” My mom chides him. Frank is always so prim and proper. Despite our ability to fit in with the upper class, my mom and I never treated any of the staff as less than extended family. “Take your time.” Then she turns back to me. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Blake Morgan is closing Camp Hope!” I blurt out as tears sting my eyes, a combination of sorrow and fury.
“He’s what?” My mom takes a step back, clearly shocked. She taps her forefinger to her lips. “I wonder if his mother is aware of this? Perplexing indeed.”
His mom. Suddenly, I begin to formulate an idea of how to handle Blake this week. I’m determined to change his mind no matter what it takes. With a nod, I relay the events. “He sent a letter.” I threw my hands up in the air. “I was shocked. I’ve only scanned the cover page, but that was enough. I’m not sure what the rest of the little booklet says.” I admit to my mother. “I guess I need to read through it.” I grab the dreaded envelope off the passenger seat, and clutch it to my chest.
As Mom and I walk into the house together, she turns to face me. “Would you like to go to your room? You must be worn out. Me, I’ll be sitting out on the back patio.” She lays her hand on the handle to the French doors and stares at me seriously.
“Nope. I’ll gladly join you on the patio. I could use a drink.” I wrap my arms around my body as I walk through the door she opens for us.
We step down into the screened in porch which leads to the patio and pool area. I can see my mom has been working as there is paper strewn all over the table.
“I was planning one of my benefit dinners for Camp Hope, of all things.” My mom frowns as she looks at me sadly. “I wish I had something more comforting to say to you, but I’m simply shocked by Blake’s decision.” She shakes her head and leans on the table while she stares at the pad filled with her notes. “I’m sure the board didn’t vote on this, or Lincoln would’ve mentioned it to me.”
“I know, mom.” I lay a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve thought about this from all angles on my drive here.” I step back and yank out one of the wicker chairs tucked under the table so I can plop down in it. “It’s insane what Blake’s doing. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.”
While I speak, my mother moves to the wheeled cart holding a pitcher of red liquid and pours me a large glass. “Here you are, dear.” My mom hands me a mixed drink of some kind. Apparently, she had prepared ahead for my visit. Of course, there was no planning for my mood. What should’ve been a celebration of my homecoming has become something much darker. She takes her seat and moves some papers out of the way. “Well, let’s give Blake a chance to defend his actions before we crucify him.”
I pull the stack of papers out of the envelope I’ve been holding. Setting them before me, I pick up the cover letter and silently read it once more, hoping I missed something the first time. As I absorb the words, it feels like the air is being sucked out of me.
“Due to the profits and losses, emphasis on the losses, I will be closing Camp Hope at the end of the summer sessions.”
Those words shatter me. How can something which means so much to me be gone without even a discussion? I refuse to roll over and give up without a fight.
With a flick of my wrist, I pass the cover letter to my mother and then I scan the contents of the packet. Soon I realize it’s nothing but facts and figures showing Morgan Enterprises basically pays for the complete operation of the camp. There are not enough paying campers to make it a profitable venture. The bulk of the campers are there on grants and scholarships provided by the company. The rat bastard! How can he not see Camp Hope is about so much more than the bottom line? As the director of the camp, I’m already familiar with the numbers. After all, I study them almost daily myself. A big part of my job
is trying to stay on budget. There are no frivolous purchases. Not only would I have the board to answer to, but also my mother who is chairman of the non-profit foundation which helps support Camp Hope. She holds dinners, soirées and countless other fundraisers throughout the year to make money for Camp Hope.
My blood begins boiling again as I think about this. I focus my attention on the next document which outlines the severance packages for Mandy and me. My eyes narrow. For some reason, this asshole thought offering us a large payout would have us leaving quietly. He has clearly underestimated me.
3
“Grace!” Brooke rushes past her maid to greet me. “I’m so happy to see you.” Immediately, we wrap our arms around each other in a tight hug and give the obligatory air kisses in greeting while we giggle. We’d started mimicking the kisses we’d seen the adults give when we were little, and have always continued the tradition. “I’ve missed you,” I tell my friend sincerely.
Brooke and I have been friends since I moved to the island after my mother and Lincoln married. She was the first person to approach the new girl in third grade. We’ve been practically inseparable ever since. Shoot, we even attended the same college, shared a dorm room, and eventually joined the same sorority. There was little we hadn’t done together over the years. Acting as her maid of honor was a natural transition.
“How are you, Grace?” Smiling, Brooke steps back to look me over. “How are things gearing up for camp this summer?”
My own smile fades. “Funny you should mention camp.” I shake my head warily then glance around. “Is your future brother- in-law here yet?” I half expect him to pop out at any moment. After the letter, nothing would surprise me.
“Um, no. He arrives tonight in time for dinner.” She looks at me carefully. No doubt she’s trying to figure out what I’d want with Blake.