by Dori Lavelle
Sarah looked up, excitement written all over her face. "Will you introduce me to this someone?"
"No, Mom, I won't. When I meet the right guy, you'll be the first to know." Maeve kissed both her parents and waved at Kelsey. "Kelsey, we should go out sometime."
"Sure," Kelsey said to her retreating back.
Twenty minutes later, dinner was over, and Kelsey discussed the rent with Brian and Sarah. With a small smile, she pulled out her purse and paid them for three months.
Chapter Three
An unfamiliar cream ceiling with a border of blue forget-me-nots was the first thing Kelsey saw when she opened her eyes. She sat up quickly, heart beating fast. Then she remembered where she was.
Taking a deep breath, she swung her legs out of the squeaking bed and went into the bathroom. An old footed tub leaned against one wall, facing a basin with a heart-shaped mirror above it.
There was nothing fancy about the bathroom. The basin was stained in some places, and the mirror was cracked on one side of the heart. The cottage, like her, had gone through a lot, and it had the scars to prove it—scratched floors, cracked walls, stains, and creaky stairs. But it still stood. So would she. Craig's actions had hurt her and made her feel foolish, but she was ready to turn over a new leaf and take control of her life.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she went back into the bedroom to call her best friend.
"Have you met any gorgeous guys yet?"
"That's not what I came here to do, Delia."
"Fine, then tell me about your cottage."
"It's perfect. It's small, with a worn-out dining table and a windowless bathroom."
Delia laughed, and the ringing of her laughter mingled with the background noise of a blaring TV.
When Delia laughed, she held nothing back. Her laughter was as pure and unpolluted as a baby's breath. Almost as if the problems of adulthood hadn't caught up with her.
It gave Kelsey hope. She used to laugh like that, a very long time ago. She could learn to again. "What's so funny?" she asked.
"I find it amusing that instead of a nice hotel, you prefer to stay in a cottage with a worn-out dining table."
"I knew you wouldn't like it." This time Kelsey laughed, but her laughter was short and controlled.
"Is it a money problem? I could send you some. You could be staying in a nice hotel by tomorrow evening."
"I have enough money saved up to keep me for a while, but this place is worth more than a hundred luxurious hotels." Over the years, Kelsey had invested her money well, and her savings would carry her along until she figured out what she wanted to do.
"I guess God made a mistake then, darling. You were meant to be born into a poor family."
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Delia Nolan. Not all people who live in cottages are poor."
"If you say so. Sweetie, let's talk later. I have to leave for work."
"Okay. I'll call you in the evening."
Kelsey often envied Delia, who had followed her dream of becoming an interior decorator, a job she was fantastic at. Kelsey had initially considered studying something other than accounting and her father had almost had a fit. After a bitter argument, which went on for months, Kelsey gave in and followed her father's orders. She studied accounting and worked in the family business. She did everything he wanted. Until now.
The next place Kelsey called was home.
Maria, the housekeeper—who also used to be Kelsey's nanny—answered. "Your father is in his office. He's... busy."
Kelsey winced, feeling like a small stone had been thrown at her heart. "It's okay, Maria. You don't have to hide anything from me. I know he doesn't want to speak to me."
"Don't worry, love. He'll come around. It might take some time, but he will."
"Maybe," Kelsey said, unconvinced. But she couldn't care less. This was her life and he had to learn to accept her decisions. She'd bent to his will for way too long. She would start her new life with or without his blessing.
After a few minutes of small talk with Maria, she hung up the phone and unzipped her suitcase. She spent the rest of the day unpacking and getting acquainted with her new home.
At eight p.m. her stomach grumbled, and she pushed a frozen pizza into the oven. Just as she turned it on, the doorbell rang.
Maeve stood on the stoop, dressed to kill in a tight red miniskirt and black spike heels. "I was hoping you'd be home." She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. The cottage did belong to her family, Kelsey supposed.
"Hi." Kelsey closed the door and followed Maeve into the kitchen. "You're dressed up. You going out?"
Maeve didn't answer. She stood at the kitchen window, holding the curtain aside with one hand. "Lucky thing."
"Who?" Kelsey asked warily. She was drained, and had been looking forward to eating her pizza and going to bed early.
Maeve snapped her gum. "You, woman. I can't believe you live next door to Mr. Sex on Legs and you're not at his cottage licking his door right now. You said you saw him. Didn't he set your panties on fire?"
"Licking his door, really?" Kelsey laughed out loud. She liked Maeve already.
Maeve threw her hands in the air in resignation. "Fine, his rented truck then. Or his shoes. That's of course only if you can't lick the man himself." Maeve paused and glanced at the oven. "What's for dinner?"
"Pizza?" Kelsey was a terrible cook—despite wishing otherwise—so she usually had to rely on frozen foods.
Maeve switched off the stove. "It will still taste good in the morning. Tonight, you're coming out with me to a pub."
"I really don't feel like—"
"You don't need to feel like it now. Wait until you step into Conaire's Corner. They have good music and alcohol. Get dressed. I'll do your hair."
Kelsey didn't resist when Maeve gently shoved her toward the stairs. She had the feeling Maeve would drag her to Conaire's Corner if she had to.
Upstairs, Maeve sat down on Kelsey's bed. "Have you brought any party clothes?"
Opening the wardrobe, Kelsey peered inside. "I hope so." She pulled out a pair of jeans and a sleeveless ivory silk top.
"That will do. Now, where are your hair accessories?"
"In the bathroom."
"Perfect. Let's make you even prettier than you already are."
***
The moment she stepped inside Conaire's Corner, Kelsey’s sleepiness was instantly banished. It was the kind of pub people went to when they wanted to leave their dreary lives behind. The warm wooden interior, low lighting, and old-fashioned furniture made it a good place to meet friends for a drink and a laugh after a long day at work. Music piped through hidden speakers, and laughter filled every corner.
Kelsey blinked from the sting of cigarette smoke as she followed Maeve toward one of the tree stump tables in the back.
"What do you want to drink?" Maeve asked.
"Just some green tea, thanks."
Maeve weaved her way around the tables to the front of the pub. When she came back, she placed a cup of tea and a chocolate brownie in front of Kelsey. "The brownie's on me."
"Thanks."
Maeve drank some of her beer. Then she folded her arms on the table in front of her. "So, what's your story? I read in the paper a while back that your father's loaded. But that's all I know and it's not important to me. I want the juicy stuff. Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you back in Saulery?"
Kelsey shook her head. She would be honest with Maeve. She made her feel comfortable, and Kelsey could use a friend in town. "I was engaged, but the wedding didn't happen. He was not the man I thought he was."
Chapter Four
Right before everything came crashing down around her, Kelsey had been picking out flowers to decorate the honeymoon suite at the Muriel Hotel. She and Craig would spend their first night as a married couple there before leaving Ireland for their honeymoon in Venice.
Her favorite flowers were white hydrangeas, but she mixed them up with
pink peonies for variety.
Humming a tune under her breath, she stepped out of the flower shop and walked the short distance to the hotel. After dropping off the bouquets, she'd pass by the office to sign some important documents. Just like her to go to the office the day before her wedding. But as chief operating officer for Glocal COM Europe, a lot of responsibilities rested on her shoulders. That was the main reason they were only going on honeymoon for a week.
Delia kept insisting that Kelsey's workaholic tendencies were born of the deep-rooted need to please her father. She was probably right. It certainly didn't come from her liking her job. She could never shake the feeling that something was missing. Just as she suspected something was missing from her relationship with Craig. The spark had never been that bright, but she did her best to stifle the thought whenever it popped into her head. Despite the emptiness in her heart, she was dedicated to her job, and she was dedicated to Craig.
Kelsey's mother died when Kelsey was thirteen, and after that, she had done everything to please her father, to make him see her and be proud of her. Deep down she had hoped that if she was good, her father wouldn't hurt so much. It became her way of life, and he came to expect it from her. She studied what he wanted, went into a profession he had envisioned for her, and was about to marry his right-hand man. Craig was handsome, well educated, and brilliant as chief financial officer of the company.
Kelsey felt enough for him to marry him. The glow that had attracted them to each other two years earlier had never become a fire, but she didn't need earth-shattering passion to make a marriage work. The love she felt for him was enough. And she had big plans for their wedding night.
She stepped into the cool hotel lobby and waved at the receptionist. The elevator transported her to the top floor and she smiled as she exited and pulled her keycard from her purse.
Inside the luxurious suite, she placed the flowers on the glass table by the door and started arranging them. Then a sound startled her—something like a whimper. She straightened up and headed in the direction of the bedroom. A loud scream stopped her in her tracks.
She almost turned to run out, but stopped herself. Who could be in the suite? A cleaner? Her heart beating fast, she tiptoed on, and when she came to the closed door she pressed her ear against it. Then it hit her. Someone was making love.
Eyebrows scrunched together, she twisted the golden door handle, which didn't make a sound. She pushed the door open an inch, her heart hammering the breath right out of her body. Then she saw Craig—well, she saw his butt, clenching and relaxing as he pounded into a woman who was leaning forward with her arms resting on their unmade honeymoon bed. As the woman begged for more, he groaned like an animal in a cage. His face was raised to the ceiling and his dark, damp hair clung to the back of his neck as he gave her what she wanted.
Kelsey's hand flew to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. With the other, she closed the door, careful not to be heard. Then she stumbled out of the suite, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her heart cracking from the inside out.
***
Inside her office, Kelsey sat staring at the wall, feeling as if her lungs had shrunk in size and couldn't accommodate any more air. With a trembling hand, she picked up the phone and dialed Delia's number.
"Hey, Kels? Guess what I'm doing? It has to do with your wedding. No, don't bother. You're crappy at—"
"Delia," Kelsey cut her off. Even hearing the word "wedding" made her want to throw up. "Can you do something for me?"
"I'm your maid of honor, do you need to ask?" Delia was in high spirits. She was a true friend. Kelsey remembered all too well that during the first year she and Craig dated, Delia hadn't liked him, and she had made that fact clear to Kelsey. Delia had said there was something about Craig that made her distrust him. But when Kelsey seemed happy enough with him, she'd put down her weapons. Then the claws came out again when Craig proposed six months ago. Delia tried to convince Kelsey she was making a mistake, but Kelsey had refused to listen. So, Delia had had no choice but to close her mouth and respect her friend's decision.
Craig didn't give Kelsey butterflies in her stomach, but she did love him, and most importantly, he was the first man her father had approved of her dating. Who needed butterflies? As far as Kelsey was concerned, that ship had sailed when she'd broken up with Shane, the first and only man she'd fallen hard for. Her college sweetheart. He'd walked out of her life because her father had refused to stop interfering in their relationship. He'd made it abundantly clear that his daughter wouldn't end up with a penniless artist.
Kelsey's eyes burned and she bit her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that were forming. She wouldn't cry in the office. She was a professional. "Remember when you wanted me to do a background check on Craig before... marrying him?"
"Yeeees?" Suspicion dripped from Delia's voice. "Is everything all right? You sound weird."
Kelsey shook her head. A tear slipped out of her eye and slid down her cheek. "Are you still in touch with your private detective friend?"
"Yes, Kelsey, what's going on?" Delia's voice was hushed.
"I'll tell you later." Kelsey paused. "Can you ask your friend to do a background check on Craig?"
The phone went silent as if Delia had hung up.
"Delia? Are you there?"
"Honey, you're getting married tomorrow. Why are you suddenly suspicious of Craig? Tell me, what did he do?"
"I'll tell you tonight at dinner." Kelsey's father had organized a rehearsal dinner for her and Craig and although she didn't feel like showing up, she would. She had a plan. "I want to know everything about him, Delia."
"You do know there's no way Cynthia can do a complete background check in only a few hours, right?"
"Please ask her anyway, I need anything on him, his past... whatever I can get."
Delia sighed. "I have a confession to make."
Kelsey frowned. "What confession? What is it?"
"I already asked her to look into his past. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone ahead without your permission."
"Why did you?"
"I was worried about you. He gave me a bad feeling." Delia paused. "In my defense, I didn't look inside the folder. It's inside my drawer, sealed. I was going to burn it."
"Don't... don't burn it," Kelsey said quickly. "I need to see what's inside. I'm coming over."
Kelsey was out of her chair before they had even hung up. Fifteen minutes later, she was at Delia's apartment, and Delia was handing her a white envelope.
When Kelsey left an hour later, she was shaken, confused, and furious. Back at her apartment, racking sobs overwhelmed her and she slid to the floor, her legs splayed awkwardly, as she emptied her heart of the pain that filled it.
***
On her wedding day, dressed in snow-white tulle and lace, Kelsey watched the minister's lips moving, but when his words hit her ears, they dissipated into nothing.
This was the last place she wanted to be. Standing at the altar opposite the man who had betrayed her in the most unforgivable way. She wrinkled her nose. The smell of flowers, perfume, hairspray, and burning candles made her dizzy.
Craig smiled as his lips moved and he held on tight to her hands. He was vowing to be her husband, to love and to hold, to forsake all others. Jerk, she thought. He was making a promise to be with her forever while he still smelled of another woman's perfume—something fruity.
When the minister turned to Kelsey, she perked up and glowered at Craig. Her heart was thumping fast and beads of sweat formed on her upper lip. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for.
"Kelsey O'Neil," the minister said, and rambled on about whether she, too, would take him to be her partner for life.
As much as her heart was breaking, her lips twitched in the suggestion of a smile. She inhaled deeply and glanced at Delia; her friend nodded, urging her to do what had to be done.
"Kelsey?" Craig leaned forward. "Are you okay?"
"Never been
better." Sweat oiled her palms, but her voice was hard. She would do this. Craig would not make a fool of her.
"So," the minister arched a bushy eyebrow, "will you take Craig Carnahan to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
The pews of the church were filled with guests, but the room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional cough.
She let the moment drag on for a few seconds longer, and then she parted her lips. "No." The word rang loud and clear. "I will not marry you, Craig."
Craig dropped her hands and his eyes widened. For a few seconds, he just stared at her, the muscles in his face tense, his mouth twitching in an odd way. "What... Why? What's going on?"
Kelsey kept her gaze locked on his. "Because you're not the man I thought you were. Are you, Craig?"
A gasp came from one of the guests, and from the corner of her eye Kelsey saw her father rise and approach them. "What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice loaded.
Kelsey faced her dad. He was handsome in a hand-tailored, classic black suit. The sprinkling of gray at his temples was the only clue he was approaching sixty.
"You want me to marry Craig Carnahan, Dad? Are you sure about that?"
"That's why we're here," he whispered between clenched teeth. "What kind of nonsense is this?"
"You want your daughter to marry a criminal?" Kelsey quivered as she glared at Craig.
"Kelsey, don't do this." Craig's face hardened, but only for a fraction of a second. As if a button had been pressed, his expression softened. "Let's go... let's go and talk somewhere more... private." He touched her arm, but she yanked it away.
"Don't you dare touch me." His touch, his smell, even his face disgusted her. And all the more so when she pictured the scene in the hotel room—him panting, grunting, and dripping with sweat as he pounded into another woman, the day before he was going to marry her. The mental image made her stomach lurch.
Another gasp from the crowd was followed by whispers. She didn't give a damn what they thought. She wanted to hurt Craig the way he had hurt her.
Avoiding eye contact, the minister leafed through his Bible as if searching for instructions on how to handle the situation.