by Zane Morrow
“I can’t wait.” I roll my eyes and walk past her. Without him around, I’m determined to salvage the day. “Are we hanging out poolside today?”
“Of course.” She leads the way out back. When we reach the patio, Brooke faces me, her brows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”
I blow out a breath. Apparently if I want to get past this we need to discuss it. “Great,” I reply sarcastically. “If you consider getting notice the camp closes after this summer.”
“What?” Brooke’s eyes widen. “Has he lost his mind?”
“It seems he has.” I sigh as I set up a lounge chair to lay out on. “He says it’s all about the bottom line. Camp Hope isn’t profitable for Morgan Enterprises and he refuses to keep sinking money into it.”
“Oh, my.” Her hand twists the strand of pearls she’s wearing. “This isn’t good at all.”
“No shit,” I reply.
“Grace.” She giggles.
“Hey, I’m not Miss Society like you. I don’t have some impossible image to maintain.” I tease my dear friend. I know she travels a different path than I do, and I have no issue with her choices, but it’s funny how hard she tries to be prim and proper. Somehow she forgets I’ve seen her both drunk and at her worst.
“Seriously, I don’t understand why he’d close the camp.” Brooke plays with her pearls once more.
“I have no idea. It was his father’s baby.” I shake my head angrily. “You’d think he’d want to preserve his father’s legacy. I do. His father was a great man.” I cross my arms over my chest. “For that reason alone, I’m going to give him hell.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” She gives me a knowing grin. “I almost feel sorry for Blake.”
“He’s a bastard. Don’t feel sorry for him.” I scowl at her. “Feel sorry for the kids who won’t have Camp Hope in their lives if he has his way.”
“Oh, I’m thinking of the kids.” She giggles “Of course, I’m also picturing the stiff and uptight Blake Morgan being ripped a new one by you.” She nearly doubles over with laughter.
“Right. So what can you tell me about Blake?” I sit up and turn to look at her seriously. “I need dirt to use against him this week. I plan to change his mind.”
“Grace, do you plan to change his mind or blackmail him?” Her hand moves to her throat and I can see the worry in her face. “Try to keep in mind, this is my groom’s brother. Please don’t ruin the wedding.”
I huff. “Don’t worry. I promise you’ll have a perfect wedding, but I also promise to save the camp.” I shrug. “This is why I’ll be working on taking down the rat bastard too. I’m a girl. I can totally multi-task.”
She frowns and stares at the cement patio for a moment. Finally, Brooke’s eyes meet mine. “I suppose you’d like to come to dinner tonight?”
“Nah, tomorrow will be soon enough for my liking.” I grin. Then a thought occurs to me. “Wait. He is going to be there tomorrow, right?” I stare at her as I wait for her response.
“Yes, Blake will be at the brunch.” She grins, probably at her reprieve.
“Perfect.” I nod happily.
“You meant it, right? About not ruining the wedding?” Her eyes droop with worry.
“Of course. The wedding is safe.” I hold up my pinky, just like we did when we were kids.
She hooks hers through mine. “In that case, Brett and I can relax and enjoy the show at brunch tomorrow.” She winks at me. “This might actually be fun.”
“I hope Brett doesn’t try to defend his asshat of a brother.” I eye her looking for any insight.
“Oh, I doubt he will be supportive of closing the camp. Chances are he has no idea what Blake has done.” She leans back on her lounger and closes her eyes for a moment.
Satisfied, the conversation has ended, I lean back in mine and smile to myself as I begin daydreaming about how I’m going to take out Blake Morgan. Figuratively, of course. Orange isn’t my color. “So the rest of the girls will arrive tonight and in the morning. Am I correct?”
“Uh huh. Not everyone has the luxury of a house on Harper’s Island like we do.” Sitting up abruptly, Brooke practically twitches in excitement. “So, about the wedding. I know how easily you distract. We’re under some serious time constraints. Do you need the schedule?”
“Not necessary. I already programmed everything into my cell phone.” I open my calendar app and hold it up for her approval.
“Yay!” She claps her hands together. “Best maid of honor ever!”
“Well, I wasn’t going to be responsible for us missing something or being late. I’m taking this maid of honor gig seriously.” I show her my game face, which earns me a giggle. “Not only do I want you to have the perfect wedding, but I need to get comfortable in this role. You know, always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” I wink, but I’m more than a little serious.
“Hey.” Brooke lays a hand on my arm to comfort me. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone when you least expect it. That’s how it was for me.” She shrugs.
“Really? Will I?” I hope my grin hides my sorrow. “Let’s face it. My job doesn’t exactly afford me the opportunity to mingle with eligible bachelors.” I laugh, but it sounds hollow even to my ears. “This is my third wedding this year.” I sigh. “My chance of finding Mr. Right is pretty much out of the question through work, but especially on Harper’s Island.” I shudder as I consider the kind of guys who mixed in our circles. “I’ll be happy to find a Mr. Right Now.” I waggle my eyebrows playfully. “In the meantime, I’ll focus on changing Blake’s mind so we can enjoy the rest of wedding week.” No matter how relaxed I tried to seem, one thought is in the forefront of my mind: I can’t lose Camp Hope.
Around one in the afternoon, Brooke’s maid brings us lunch to the umbrella covered table. We eat a Greek Chicken salad and drink goblets of sweet tea, then enjoy fruit for dessert. After all, we both have gowns to fit in. It’s a delightful meal. We enjoy our time together so much; I stay and hang out with her until Brett arrives.
“Ladies.” He greets us while giving Brooke a lingering kiss on the lips that makes me smile for my friend. “I missed you, darling.”
Okay, these two might make me throw up. They were genuinely my relationship goal. I look away and pretend to be intensely interested in something on the horizon.
Brett’s phone chimes and breaks up their PDAs. He glances at it and makes an announcement. “My brother will be here within the hour.”
“That’s my cue to leave,” I say smiling while gathering my stuff up.
“Am I missing something?” Brett questions. He glances back and forth between us.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Brooke rolls her eyes. “I’ll fill you in later.”
I move to offer goodbye hugs to each of them. “Don’t worry.” I grin at Brooke. “I promise I’ll be at the Jasper Inn for brunch in the morning. And I’ll behave.” I raise two fingers in mock Girl Scout promise. Then I hurry home, eager to talk to my mother about Camp Hope. I’m positive together we can come up with a plan to win over Blake at brunch tomorrow.
“Mom!” I call out as I enter the cottage.
“She’s on the back patio.” Frank pops out from around the corner of the kitchen entry.
“Thanks, Frank.” I smile as I rush to the patio doors, which open to the back. Then I fling the doors wide open. “Mom, I need your help.”
My mother pastes a smile on her face and gives me a pointed look. “Grace, I’m so happy you’re here. We have a guest.” She gestures to the woman sharing the table with her. For the first time, I notice we’re not alone. “I called in backup. You remember my close personal friend, Shelby Morgan, of course.”
“Ms. Morgan, it’s a pleasure.” I greet her with a smile, but my eyes nervously dart back and forth between them.
“Dear, please call me Shelby. I have a feeling we’ll be great friends by the end of this week.” She winked at me.
I watch as they share conspiratorial glances. “S
o.” I blow out a breath as I pull out a chair and sit down. “What’s going on? I get the feeling you two are up to something.”
“Well, I called my dear friend after reading through this packet of nonsense.” Mom tosses the envelope on the table. “Shelby has also read this waste of perfectly good trees.”
Shelby leans back and crosses her legs. “Yes, and my son won’t be closing Camp Hope...no matter what he thinks.” She raises her brow.
“Um okay…” I want to believe they have some Ace up their sleeve. I want to exhale because I’ve essentially been holding my breath ever since I read the letter myself.
“What’s your plan?” Shelby’s brow arches as she waits for my response.
“Well, that’s why I was looking for mom.” I sigh and slouch in my chair. “We have the brunch tomorrow. I figured I’d talk to him then. I’d have the crowd on my side so he won’t make a scene.” I shrug. “Now I just need to figure out what to say.”
“Oh, that’s perfect.” Mom nods in agreement.
“Let’s get busy.” Shelby leans against the table.
Over the next few hours we plot and plan my discussion with Blake. By the time we finish, I’m no more comfortable or confident than I was before. I sit in my seat, wringing my hands, wishing the amber colored liquid in my glass was liquor instead of sweet tea.
Finally, Shelby smiles. “Relax, Grace! Your main talking points are flawless. The key here is to sell Blake on the idea and make him think it’s his.” She slowly stands and walks over to me. “My son is a bit more stubborn than his father, but he takes after him all the same. This means...he can be reasoned with. He’s a good man.”
4
The Jasper Inn has been a mainstay on Harper’s Island for a good number of years. I remember my mom going to some ladies’ luncheon held at the Inn at least once a week. Elegance seeps from every brick in the building. Stepping inside is like walking onto a movie set. Because of this, I always hated the place when I was younger. The glass everywhere scared me. As an adult, I’m only slightly more comfortable.
“Can I help you?” A young man stares down at me from the podium.
I’d grown accustomed to the attitude of Harper’s Island, even from the help. “I’m here for the Morgan/Montgomery brunch.”
He sniffs before murmuring, “Follow me.”
When he turns his back to me, I roll my eyes. As we approach the table, I see both Morgan brothers sitting at the table with Brooke. Everyone is smiling and talking excitedly.
“Grace!” Brooke stands to hug me as do both Morgan brothers, who had clearly been raised to practice the finer points of chivalry. “Finally, the fun can really begin.”
“Hush, Brooke.” I hiss as I take my seat. Blake immediately takes hold of the chair and holds it for me. “Thank you.”
“I must admit, Ms. Simmons, I was rather surprised to hear you were the maid of honor.” Blake greets me formally.
“Oh, why is that?” My brow furrows as I await his explanation.
“Truthfully, I had no idea we traveled the same social circle.” He stares at me evenly.
“Blake.” Brett’s eyes widen in surprise.
Deciding to shake off his intentional jab, I laugh. “It’s fine.” I wave a hand in the air. “I admit, I’ve had few encounters with your brother through the years. No wonder he has no idea to whom I’m connected.”
“Yes, it seems I have underestimated you.” He eyes me thoughtfully.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” I question him.
Blake leans forward as he prepares to speak. “Well, my mother kept questioning me about you last night, wanting to know how I enjoyed working with you on Camp Hope.”
“Oh well, is that all?” I dismiss him.
“It’s rare someone gets an advantage on me.” He tugs his chin thoughtfully.
I frown. “How do I have an advantage over you, Mr. Morgan?”
“Please. Call me Blake, Miss Simmons.” He leans on the arm of his chair.
I push back a strand of hair. “Please, call me Grace. After all, we’ll be fast friends by the end of this week.”
“I look forward to it.” His bored tone suggests otherwise. “Especially since you’ve already gone to my mother.” His disdain is evident.
“I did no such thing.” I huff.
“Oh then, my young Grace, why was my mother questioning me about Camp Hope this morning at breakfast?” His brows raise.
I fight to hide the laugh bubbling up in my throat. He’s pouting like a spoiled child who isn’t getting his way. “Well, it’s no secret our mothers are friends and on several committees together. When I returned from my afternoon with Brooke yesterday, they were having drinks on our patio.”
“How convenient.” His mood further sours.
“This is exciting.” Brooke announces loudly while she watches us like a tennis match. Brett reaches out, grabs her hand and lifts it to his lips.
“Why did our parents have to wait so long to have you?” Blake shakes his head. “It leaves me tolerating the company of young bimbos.”
“Bimbo?” Heat rises in my cheeks. My body begins to tingle with the barely tempered anger simmering.
Brooke gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. Then she looks to her future husband, probably hoping he’ll intervene.
Brett shifts in his seat and glares at his brother. “Blake, apologize. First, no one is farther from bimbo status than Grace.” He looks at me sadly. “Second, if you’re so mature, start acting like it.”
“Are you serious?” Blake scowls at me. “You’re siding with her? The little tart conspired with our mother.”
“Now I’m a tart?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Apologize.” Brett leans toward his brother, a note of warning in his voice. “You’re wrong about Grace.”
“Oh really? Are you sure about that? Why else would Mom suddenly start going on and on about that stupid camp?” Blake crosses his arms over his chest confidently.
“Stupid camp?” I gasp and toss my napkin on the table ready to leave. “I’ll have you know that stupid camp helps five hundred or more kids each summer.”
“Frankly, I don’t care about the kids.” He shrugs. “I’m a businessman. For me, it’s all about the bottom line.”
I shake my head in disappointment. “Your dad loved that camp. It was his baby.”
“Don’t I know it. My father spent more time with those kids than he did his own.” Blake takes a drink of his mimosa. “That doesn’t make the man a saint.”
I’m speechless. It’s like he doesn’t know his father at all. Ben Morgan loved his children and was always disappointed in Blake’s lack of interest in Camp Hope. “I have no words…you are perhaps the most infuriating bastard I have ever encountered.”
A loud gasp from a nearby table has me turning in that direction. “Sorry, Ms. Dean. I apologize for my unladylike speech, but this man isn’t worthy of a lady.” I stand up while trying to control my fury.
“Don’t worry, Grace. Blake has this effect on a lot of women.” Ms. Dean smiles. “Do tell your mother ‘hello’ for me.”
“I will.” Feeling somewhat better, I nod and turn my attention to the bride-to-be. “Brooke, I love you, but I promised not to ruin the wedding. I need some air. If I stay here much longer, I’m afraid the promise will be broken.”
As I move past the table Ms. Dean shares with three other ladies, I overhear one of them ask, “Is that Dr. Hightower’s daughter?” For a moment, I freeze, thinking I’ve brought shame on my family.
“It is,” Ms. Dean murmurs while avoiding my eyes.
“Seems there are some sparks between her and young Blake. Should make for an exciting week.” The woman snickers. The rest of the table laughs.
Shaking my head, I walk toward the back patio while thinking hell would freeze over before I let Blake near me romantically. I’m still struggling to process what he said about his father. It doesn’t mesh with any version of his dad I knew. It�
�s time to regroup. Yesterday, I thought reminding him of his father’s devotion to the camp might soften his stance on closing it. Instead, I’m beginning to think the camp closure is more personal than he lets on.
Once outside, I stride down the path to the garden. Nature has always had a soothing effect on me. I take a few deep breaths trying to regroup. Glancing at my calendar app, I realize I have to go back inside and do my wedding duty. Brooke would never forgive me if I was late. I take a few laps around the fountain before I walk back inside and join everyone at the table. They tension seems to have lessened and I hope my presence doesn’t create more. Brett and Blake stand up as I take my seat. “Again, I’m sorry.” I begin to say more, but Brooke interrupts.
“No need to apologize. You were simply defending yourself.” She grins. “Blake isn’t used to anyone standing up to him. He needs that once in a while.”
Blake shoots her a look and starts to open his mouth when I see Brooke shift. He winces and grabs at his shin. “Yes. I do.” Then he narrows his eyes at his future sister-in-law, who eyes him innocently.
5
During the rest of brunch, I ignore Blake as much as possible. In fact, I say nothing to him at all unless he speaks to me directly. My mind is racing. I have no idea what to do. My original plan was blown in seconds. There was no way he was saving the camp in memory of a father he seems to hold a lot of resentment towards.
“Grace…” Brett’s voice brings me back to the present. “How many campers are there this year?”
“We’ve maxed out again. A full camp of five hundred kids!” I say with a genuine smile. Talking about the camp and the kids makes me happy.
“That’s fantastic.” He nods.
“It is. I hate turning anyone away, so the wait list is almost never used.” I shrug and can feel my cheeks coloring as I imagine Blake silently judging me.
“Sounds like the camp needs to be expanded or a second camp needs to be created in another area.” Brett stares at me across the table while he takes another bite of his omelet.