by Kim Law
Ex on the Beach
Ex on the Beach
Kim Law
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2013 Kim Law
Originally released as a Kindle Serial, January 2013
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance
P.O. Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781477805282
ISBN-10: 1477805281
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013931723
To Kelli. You made working on this book so much fun!
You’re a true highlight in this crazy
(but fun-and-I-wouldn’t-trade-it-for-the-world) business.
Thank you for being you!
Table of Contents
EPISODE ONE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
EPISODE TWO
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
EPISODE THREE
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
EPISODE FOUR
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
EPISODE FIVE
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
EPISODE SIX
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
EPISODE SEVEN
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
EPISODE EIGHT
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
EPISODE NINE
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
EPISODE TEN
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Author Biography
Kindle Serials
EPISODE ONE
CHAPTER ONE
Andie Shayne bounded up the steps to the wide porch and hurried around to the sliding doors leading to the kitchen. The sound of waves greeted her, stopping her only long enough to glance out at the ocean and smile. High tide was licking at the dunes. She sighed. Turtle Island was the best.
She stepped inside the large, comfortable room and bounced up on the balls of her feet. “I did it,” she practically shouted.
Aunt Ginny and Kayla Morgan, Seaglass Celebrations’ event director, both looked up from the papers spread across the granite countertop. “You did what?” Aunt Ginny asked.
A grin bloomed across Andie’s face as she held the magazine up in front of her with both hands. She’d worked very hard for this.
“I got us in Today’s Brides. A two-page spread, coming out next month. We’ll be the featured business for Georgia.”
Both Ginny and Kayla squealed at the news and then hurried over for a round of hugs.
“The photographer had originally wanted to come out in September and run the article in October, but when I mentioned the Jordan wedding, he rearranged his plans.” Andie did a little arm-pumping, fist-squeezing wiggle dance. “He’ll now be here for the wedding.”
More squealing filled the air.
After everyone calmed down, Kayla moved back to the counter and began stacking the loose papers and putting them in a folder. Kayla handled the day-to-day details of coordinating the events, while Andie oversaw the business as a whole. Ginny pitched in wherever was needed. “Ginny and I were just reviewing the names of the wedding party. The first round should start arriving anytime now.”
Andie glanced at her watch. She hadn’t realized it was after noon already. She’d been running last-minute errands on the mainland and had then spent additional time on the ferry after it docked. She’d still been on the phone to New York, getting everything worked out for the article.
Seaglass Celebrations had been featured in a few smaller bridal magazines over the last couple of years, but this was a big step. They were finally becoming a player. And winning the contract for Penelope Jordan’s wedding had gone a long way to getting them there.
They’d gotten a last-minute call only a month before from the Jordans, whose previous plans for their daughter’s wedding had been thwarted due to a fire. They’d been looking for a destination site that could handle a full two weeks of pre-wedding activities. Because of a last-minute cancellation on their end, Seaglass had the inn and all eight bungalows available for the full two weeks in question. It was as if the fates in which Aunt Ginny put so much of her trust had been smiling down on them.
The Jordans expected nothing less than a top-of-the-line production, and Andie intended to give it to them.
She scooted in beside Kayla and began scanning over the notes. They had to pull this event off perfectly. A very fat bonus was riding on it. And if they didn’t get that bonus, it wouldn’t matter what Today’s Brides said about them. They wouldn’t be in business long enough to care.
“Have you — ” she started, turning to Kayla.
“I have,” Kayla answered, not letting her ask her question. Not even looking up.
“What about — ”
“That, too.”
“Come on, I just want to make sure — ”
“Trust me, Andie,” the thirty-year-old began, looking at her boss now. “I’ve done it. Whatever it is, I swear I’ve done it. We’re going to pull this wedding off with such beautiful precision that no one will be able to guess we only had a month to do it in.”
Andie nodded, moistening her lips, forcing herself to relax. “I know. Really, I do.” And she knew she’d already asked her most-valued employee to double- and triple-check the details too many times to count. They were ready to go. “I’m just nervous with this one. It’s a big deal.”
A very big deal. Failing could mean losing her aunt’s property. And she had a very bad habit of failing when it counted most.
“I know, darling. Just try to relax. Everything will be okay.” Kayla pushed the folder over to Andie and shot her a questioning look. “Anything else before I go? I need to head out front to greet our guests as they arrive.”
Andie shook her head and forced air deep into her lungs. They were going to do this and everything was going to be fine. “I think we’re good. We’re ready to go.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get this party started.” Kayla stood and moved past the twelve-person table, heading for the door. She glanced back over her shoulder. “You coming out?”
As official hostess, Andie should go, but right then the thought of greeting a happy June bride did nothing for her. She’d rather head over to the bar and spend some quality time behind the counter. Being there always reminded her of her earlier graduate days, those evenings when she’d only been looking forward to the stress of real life, instead of being smack-dab in the middle of it. Probably why she’d bought the bar when she’d had the opportunity.
“I think I’ll skip it this time. I want to help over at Gin’s for a while. I’ll make sure everything is set up and ready to go for the dinner tonight. I’ll welcome both families then.”
The wedding party would be arriving throughout the afternoon, with activities planned for every day leading up to the big event. Seaglass would handle everything. What they didn’t provide themselves, they made off-site arrangements for, and woul
d play host at many of the events. The goal was to make everyone feel as if they were the only priority. Personalized attention was the backbone of the business, and though it was at times exhausting, Andie was proud of what they’d accomplished. All the guests were expected to do was show up, settle in to a comfortable room in either the main inn — the building she was in now — or one of the bungalows, and then proceed to take part in the wedding of the bride and groom’s dreams.
Kayla poked her head back inside the kitchen. “By the way, you’re buying me the biggest drink you can make at the end of these two weeks, you know? While we celebrate that monster bonus you’ll be depositing.”
Andie forced her lips to form a smile. That check would never even land in their bank account. “You bet I will.”
Kayla disappeared and Aunt Ginny gave Andie a quick hug. “You did good, child. That magazine article is going to put us on the map.”
“I hope so, Aunt Ginny. I’m doing everything I can think of to make this work.”
“I know you are,” Ginny said. “We wouldn’t be anything but a big ole empty house if it weren’t for you. James would have loved seeing what you’ve turned this place into.”
Whitmore Mansion and the surrounding fifteen acres, which included a private beach, had belonged to Aunt Ginny’s husband. James had died when Ginny was only thirty-five, the same year Andie had been born. Whitmore had been in his family for generations, and though distant relatives had laid claim on it, it had rightfully belonged to Ginny. She’d lived there since his death, inviting Andie to visit every summer as she’d been growing up. It had been Andie’s haven during her childhood.
And when she’d needed a place to recoup a few years earlier? She’d come straight back.
“I hope I didn’t talk you into biting off more than we can chew, Aunt Ginny. Some days I worry that it’s all going to come crashing down on us.”
“You know what I always say.”
Andie nodded. She did, though she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “It’s all up to the fates.”
“That’s right, sweet girl. Whatever happens is meant to happen.” Ginny reached over and tapped a finger on the closed folder. “And that means with this wedding, too.” She gave a little nod, the natural twinkle in her eyes dimming to serious. “I’m going out front with Kayla. Why don’t you familiarize yourself with our impending company?”
“I will, Aunt Ginny. Thanks.” That had been next on her list of tasks. Given the time crunch, Kayla had handled the details with the families and wedding party while Andie had lined up food and locked down times and dates for the activities Kayla had mapped out.
She leaned over and gave her aunt a peck on the cheek, thankful she’d always had her to turn to. “The fates or not,” Andie whispered. “We have a lot riding on this wedding.” Aunt Ginny knew of the upcoming payment to the bank, but didn’t realize how bad a toll the unprecedented season had taken on their finances. Early hurricanes and last-minute catastrophes had pulled too many of their big moneymakers.
“And a lot will come out of it.” With a wink, Ginny twirled in her best guest-greeting dress, the purple and orange panels of the skirt winking out, and headed out of the kitchen. Andie slid the folder over in front of her, but instead of opening it, she sat worrying over the days to come. There was no reason to believe the wedding would be anything but a success — they’d made a good habit out of doing just that. But the elder Jordan had also made it very clear; he demanded perfection. Don’t deliver, don’t get the bonus.
And don’t have the funds for the balloon payment due at the end of the month.
It had been her doing to push the business further into debt. She’d insisted the bungalows would set them apart. And it had. Only maybe they should have moved slower. But because they’d done it all at once, they’d had to put the house up as collateral. And now it could be lost in the blink of an eye. Andie had a call in to the bank requesting a six-month extension. If they could get that, they’d been fine. If not …
She shook her head, not wanting to think about “if not.” Risking losing her aunt’s inheritance and home? What had she been thinking? She should have been happy with the wedding packages they’d already offered and left well enough alone.
Enough worrying, she silently chided herself. What was done was done. Right now, she needed to concentrate on the wedding ahead.
She had a list of guests to memorize. Though she’d scanned over the main players during the last weeks, she hadn’t focused on the full list. And it would never do for the hostess not to be able to greet each member of the wedding party by name.
Thanks to Kayla, every detail was in perfect order. Andie poured herself a cup of chamomile tea and settled in to review the information on the bride’s family. They were high-society Chicago, owners of an extensive line of upscale shopping centers. And though most had expected a big Chicago bash for the family’s only daughter, the bride had insisted on having her wedding at a private beachfront location instead. She wanted the romance of a beach and the ocean — but was making sure not to leave her girls behind. There would be a total of ten wedding attendants, five on each side.
Seaglass Celebrations wasn’t as well-known as the outfit the Jordans had originally picked, but Andie was determined to make it clear it was the better choice. The family and wedding party would be hosted on the Whitmore grounds, and wedding guests would stay in the five-star accommodations at the island’s historic hotel.
Andie turned her attention back to the folder to find the groom’s information, but before she could flip past the header page for that section, she paused on the last name. Masterson. She’d known another Masterson once. That one had been from Boston. And he’d been an ass. But he would be the exact kind of man who’d kill to marry into the Jordan family.
A turn of the page showed her the details on the Mastersons, including a photo of the groom, and she clunked down her mug of tea. The hot liquid splashed out onto her hand.
“Ow,” she muttered, grabbing a towel to wipe away the liquid as she glared at the paper. Robert Masterson. The guy who’d been best man at her wedding.
Which meant he was probably also bringing —
Shit.
Her heart constricted, limiting the air being pulled into her lungs, as she couldn’t help but bounce to that day four years ago. It had been a June wedding then, too.
She shoved the memories from her mind, and scanned over the sheet for more details. Joseph Robert Masterson. Well, dang. The man’s first name was Joseph. And, of course, since she hadn’t been the one doing the invites or place cards, the first names and the total number of guests were all she’d paid attention to.
She got her breathing back under control, then quickly ran through the rest of the document, skipping over a majority of the groom’s information, but noting that he worked at a prestigious law firm in Chicago. She silently pleaded that he and Mark were no longer the big buds they’d been four years earlier. But she knew differently. They’d been friends since elementary school. Their families were friends. Heck, they’d all vacationed together for the last thirty years.
Robert had also likely served as best man in the wedding she’d seen announced in the Sunday Styles section of the New York Times last fall — that of Mark Kavanaugh and Elizabeth Ryan, a woman from an even more blue-blood, old-Boston family than Mark’s.
Nope, there was no way that Mark wouldn’t be involved in this event.
But a girl could surely hope.
Only, hoping was futile. There it was in black and white — Best Man: Mark Kavanaugh. A recent picture accompanied the info, and she couldn’t help but linger over it.
He looked good. Damned good.
If he wasn’t such a pig for dumping her the way he had, she’d be hard-pressed not to be turned on by the simple image of him.
She glanced toward the door that Ginny had disappeared through, realizing that her aunt would be aware that Mark was scheduled to arrive today. How long she’d kn
own? But then, it didn’t matter. This was a wedding they had to do. Andie wouldn’t lose Aunt Ginny’s house because she didn’t want to face her louse of an ex.
The phone rang and she reached over to answer it, shoving Mark’s picture aside to peruse the remainder of the list.
“Ms. Shayne, please,” said a male voice on the other end of the line.
“This is Andie. How may I help you?”
“Oh Andie, hello. This is Dan Stapleton from the bank.”
Her pulse spiked. News on the loan. “Hello, Mr. Stapleton. I sure hope you have good news for me.”
The uncomfortable silence that met her words turned her stomach sour.
“I’m afraid, Ms. Shayne, that I don’t.”
Andie closed her eyes. The bonus from this wedding would cover the loan, but just barely. If anything at all were to go wrong …
“I’m sorry to say that the committee has reviewed your request for an extension, but we cannot grant one at this time.”
She couldn’t breathe. “The whole amount? But there have been extenuating circumstances. Natural disasters.”
“Yes, ma’am. We did take that into consideration.”
“Any way we could pay half this month and half the next?” She wasn’t even sure that would be doable, but it was better than all of it now.
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Shayne. The full amount of the payment will be due as stated in the original terms of the agreement; payable the last day of this month.”
The sound of laughter hit her ears as she heard the first of the guests arriving in the other room. Looked like the time had come. Prove she was the businesswoman her Harvard MBA declared her to be, or …