by Chelsea Fine
We swiftly swap notes and I read the letter my father wrote to Daren.
Daren,
I’m sorry that I’m gone. But more importantly, I’m sorry that I’ll be missing out on the rest of your life. Your circumstances have taught you to underestimate yourself and hide behind your reputation. I want to teach you the opposite.
I know you, Daren. All your strengths, all your hopes, all your hesitations. I know the bare bones of who you are, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you will be very successful and much loved in life. But it’s not my doubts, or lack thereof, that matter.
You are about to embark on a journey that will hopefully encourage you, if not completely change you. And I’ve designated Kayla as your travel partner.
My daughter is just as stubborn and resilient as you, which is why I used handcuffs to keep you together. Had I not, the two of you would still be searching for the inheritance, independent of each other, of course, and with no intention of ever sharing the money. Not because you’re selfish people, but because you’re impossibly guarded. One of the many things that make you and Kayla so similar.
You’re both inverted diamonds in the rough; polished on the outside, cracked and raw within. But priceless just the same.
Yet you both doubt love—despite all I’ve tried to teach you. But alas, there are some lessons in life that cannot be taught. Some lessons, especially those on finding love, are only learned through time and trust.
And I gave you both the moment you were handcuffed to Kayla.
Happy hunting, Daren. Take care of my little girl.
I finish reading my dad’s careful handwriting and look up. He knew. Even though he wasn’t really in my life these past five years, my dad knew me and my heart well enough to know that Daren Ackwood was exactly what I needed.
And he didn’t hesitate to handcuff us together to prove it.
Daren and I lock eyes.
He eyes me. “Why are you smiling so big?”
The smile I hadn’t realized I was wearing stretches even wider. “Because I really love my dad.”
44
Daren
I’ve never been so happy to see Golf Cart Gus. I flag him down as Kayla and I run toward the town square, and when he stops for us we jump inside.
“Hi,” Kayla says with her best smile. “I’m Kayla.”
Gus is immediately smitten. “Why, hello darling.” He kisses her hand and she giggles.
After throwing clothes on and chaining ourselves back together, Kayla and I went out to her car, only to find it with another dead battery. With no other options, we ran, handcuffed, to the town square and, thankfully, came across Gus.
“So listen,” I say. “Kayla and I need to get to Milly Manor, but we don’t have any money to tip you with.”
“Yet,” Kayla corrects. She smiles at Gus. “We don’t have any money yet. But as soon as we do we’ll totally pay you back if you wouldn’t mind giving us a ride right now.”
He looks her over with a grin. “Anything for you, sugar.” He turns to me and says, “You lucky dog.”
I glance at Kayla and smile. “I know.”
Two minutes later, Gus drops us off at Milly Manor and we fumble around the front yard, tripping over our own feet as we struggle to get into the backyard and dig through the garden to grab the spare key.
Once we let ourselves inside the house, we waste no time running for the same hall closet where we found the blue suitcase. We open the door and shove aside all the coats within.
There, just like we guessed, is a giant safe.
Kayla giggles. “I can’t believe it.”
I smile. “We should have known. We should have known!” I look at her. “You open it. It’s your home. Your father. You should open it.”
She tries the door. “It’s locked. But there’s a keypad for a number combination.”
I nod. “Try fourteen twenty-two.”
“Ooh. Yeah. ‘Through the trenches fourteen twenty-two.’ You’re brilliant.” She punches in 1422 and a clicking sound fills the closet. Kayla bites her lip, then slowly swings the safe door open.
For a moment, we stare in silence.
“I don’t believe it,” she says quietly.
I blink. “Me neither.”
Inside the safe are stacks and stacks of money, all hundred-dollar bills, all banded together, and on top of the bills is one final envelope.
Kayla carefully reaches for the envelope and pulls out the paper inside.
My dear Kayla and Daren,
This is my last letter to you, and I hope you find it with different hearts than you had when you set out. I always had money during my life, but I did not always have happiness, and I think that was the lesson I wanted you to learn most of all. People are where our happiness is found.
Daren. You are not my son, but I cared for you as such. There were many days I wished that I could be part of your life in a more significant way. I cannot begin to tell you how proud I always was of you, and how much I believe in you. I hope you learn that your value is not in what others make of you, but in what you find in yourself and what your loved ones see in you.
And my sweet Kayla. Fatherhood did not go as planned for me. I wanted to be more involved in your life than I was, but life is not always fair. All the money in the world could not buy back the years I missed as your father. But I always loved you, never doubt that for a moment. Being your father was the best thing that ever happened to me. I have no doubt you will find greatness in life. No matter what dreams you follow or paths you take, I know that you will shine, my little diamond. I will love you always.
As for the two of you, I don’t know if you are still handcuffed together, but regardless, I hope you do not resent me for asking you to do it. I knew, from the moment you were young children, that the two of you knew how to love more than anyone else I’ve ever known. And hopefully, you will use that love to the advantage of your relationship, whether it be for friendship or for something more.
Because money without love is complete poverty. And poverty with love, well that’s pure wealth. I love you both so much.
We turn to stare at each other in the hallway as joy fills our faces. We reach into the safe to pull out the bills and, behind them…
“The box!” I smile broadly and pull out the green box, still wound with ribbon, that Marcella wrapped for me all those years ago. I take the box in my hands.
Kayla gasps. “My locket!” She carefully lifts a small gold necklace from the safe and kisses the heart-shaped locket hanging from its chain. She smiles at the box in my hands. “You got your baseball cards back, I see.”
“I did, but it was never about the baseball cards. It was about the green box the cards were in.” I open the box. Inside are my baseball cards from so long ago, but beside those cards still sits the paperback copy of Holes that Marcella gave me for Christmas all those years ago. “Marcella gave me this when I was a kid.” I open the first few pages to the inscription. “This was what I wanted to get back.
Kayla leans over and reads Marcella’s handwritten inscription out loud, “ ‘To my favorite boy. I will love you forever, mijo. Love, Marcella.’ ”
“It’s the only thing she ever wrote to me,” I explain. “And after she died, I didn’t have anything left of her. But this book was here all along.” I look at Kayla’s necklace. “I’m guessing that’s pretty special?”
She nods. “My father gave it to me and—” She opens the heart locket and gasps. Inside is a note from her father—a new note, probably written just before he died. “ ‘My Kayla,’ ” she reads out loud. “ ‘It was an honor to be your father. I will love you forever.’ ”
She chokes up and I pull her against my chest.
As we look down at our precious lost items and the loving words left for us by Marcella and James Turner, Kayla inhales deeply and says, “Wow. That was the best scavenger hunt ever.”
Nodding, I look at Kayla, in my arms and in my heart, and smile.
>
Jackpot.
Epilogue
Kayla
I dust off my hands as we move the last box of stuff into my new room at Willow Inn. It’s been three weeks since Daren and I found my father’s hidden money, and in that time I accepted Ellen’s job offer as a waitress at Willow Inn, while Daren accepted her offer as her new cook.
He was able to quit his other jobs so he now works full-time in the kitchen with Mable, and I swear he smiles all day long. He can’t stop talking about how he wants to open his own restaurant someday.
The girl who was the prep cook before me, Pixie, now lives in Tempe where she’s going to Arizona State University. And because Pixie knows a lot of people at ASU, she’s going to introduce me to some friends of hers that are currently in the nursing program. Which will be great since I start classes at ASU this spring.
Ellen let me stay at the inn as a guest while she had Pixie’s room repainted. The guy who lived next to Pixie, Levi, moved down to Phoenix as well, so Ellen had both rooms painted yellow.
I also bought a working car so I could travel back and forth from Willow Inn to Copper Springs to visit Daren, whom I’ve decided I completely and forever love.
Daren put his share of the money to fast use, paying off all the medical bills he wanted to take care of and buying a new car for himself as well. As much as he missed Monique, he thought it would be silly to spend so much money on a car. So he bought a truck instead. Overall, things have just fallen into place for us and I couldn’t be happier.
Daren enters my room with a giant box in one hand and a bag of cookies in the other.
“Ooh, I love you, I love you, I love you.” I smile at the cookies.
“Easy, tiger.” He sets down the box and pulls two cookies from the bag.
I look him over with a smile. “You know, I read the book Holes last week.”
He lifts a brow. “You did?”
I nod and eye him closely. “And at the end, the boy who had to dig all those holes finds a lost treasure and all his bad luck goes away. Pretty fitting, don’t you think?”
A slow grin pulls up his face. “I knew I liked that book for a reason.” He looks around my room. “So what do you think of your new home?”
I grin at the bright yellow walls and the new blue bedding I bought for my bed. “I love it.”
He hands me a cookie. “And you know the best part about your room?”
I eye him. “What’s that?”
He grins. “That it’s right next door to an empty room that will soon be mine.”
“Are you being serious?” I smile so widely my face hurts.
He nods. “We’re going to be neighbors—if that’s okay with you.”
“That is more than okay,” I say. “That’s incredible!”
“Then here’s to being neighbors.” He holds up his cookie and grins. “And to handcuffs.”
I tap my cookie to his with a smile. “Here’s to handcuffs.”
About the Author
Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.
* * *
Learn more at:
ChelseaFineBooks.com
Twitter, @ChelseaFine
Facebook.com/ChelseaFineBooks
Please turn the page for a preview of the next book in Chelsea Fine’s sexy new adult Finding Fates series
RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
Available September 2014
1
Jenna
“Look at you. Being all in love like a grown-up. I’m so proud,” I say, smiling at my best friend, Pixie, as we carry boxes into our joint dorm room. “And Levi”—I turn to address Pixie’s hot new piece of arm candy—“you’re welcome.”
He sets a box down. “Am I now?”
I nod. “If it weren’t for me telling Pixie to suck up her fears and just let herself love you, you’d still be a miserable handyman.”
“I’m still a handyman.”
“Yes, but you’re no longer a miserable one.” I grin. “Thanks to me.”
He pulls Pixie into his arms and kisses her temple. “Then I guess I should thank you.”
As they start kissing, my phone rings and I’m relieved for an excuse to leave them to all their lovebirding.
I slip out into the hall and close the door before answering my cell.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jenna.” The sound of my mom’s voice makes me smile. “How’s my baby?”
“I’m good,” I say. “Pixie and I are almost all moved in. She came down here with her boyfriend tonight so we were able to get mostly unpacked. I just have a few more boxes left at the apartment but I’m going to pick those up later. How are you?”
She pauses. “Well I’m okay.”
It’s the way she emphasizes the “I’m” that tells me exactly what this phone call is about.
“Grandma?” I say. “Again?”
“I’m afraid so. She says she can feel the end coming close.”
I sigh. “Mom. She’s been saying she’s dying for ten years and she’s never even had a cough.”
“I know, but she seems serious this time,” Mom says.
Every few years or so, my grandmother announces to the family that she’s going to kick the bucket at any given moment.
The first two times it happened, I immediately flew back to New Orleans to be by her side—only to find Granny alive and well without so much as a sniffle. The last time it happened, I took a few days to get organized before flying back to New Orleans, where my “dying” grandmother was singing karaoke at a local bar.
So I’m not falling for her silly shenanigans this time.
“No way,” I say. “I’m not spending my hard-earned money to fly out there again just so Grandma can get on my case about love and fate while singing a verse of ‘Black Velvet.’ Tell her that I’ll come visit when she has a doctor’s note stating that she’s at death’s door.”
“Oh, Jenna. Don’t be so dramatic. I swear you’re just as bad as Grandma.”
“I know,” I say, in mock frustration. “And it’s getting hard to compete for the title of Family Drama Queen with Granny declaring her impending death every two years. Could you tell her to just give it up already and let me be the shining star?”
I can hear the disapproval in my mother’s voice. “That’s not funny, Jenna.”
“Sure it is.” I smile. “And Grandma would agree.”
“Please be serious about this,” she says. “Your grandmother isn’t feeling well and she’d like to see you. Again.” When I don’t say anything she adds, “And wouldn’t you feel horrible if she was right this time and you missed your chance to say good-bye?”
Leave it to my mother to play the guilt card.
“Fine,” I say. “But I’m not shelling out the cash to fly there. I’ll drive this time.”
“All the way from Phoenix to New Orleans?”
“Yes. And I will save big money doing it,” I say. “I’ll get my shifts covered at work and leave in the morning. Sound good?”
“Sounds great. Your grandmother will be so happy to hear it.”
I scoff. “Happy enough for karaoke, no doubt.”
“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.” She clears her throat. “I will see you in a few days then. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I hang up the phone and head back into the dorm room to find Levi and Pixie making out against the wall.
“God. Seriously you two?” I make a face. “I know you just got together in the middle of the road a few hours ago, but come on. There are other people here.”
Pixie pulls back from Levi with a smile and nods at my phone
. “Who was that?”
I exhale. “My mom. Grandma claims she’s dying.”
“Again?”
I nod. “So I’m going to drive out there this week and try to be home before school starts.”
“By yourself?”
“Yep.”
She frowns. “That doesn’t sound like fun. Or very safe.”
“I’ll be fine.” I wave her off and grab my purse. “But I have to run to work and stop by my cousins’ apartment for the last of my boxes. I’ll be gone a while so you two can get back to smooching against the wall or whatever.” I wink at Pixie. “See ya.”
“See ya,” she says, still smiling as I exit the room.
Jumping in my car, I quickly head to the bar, where I work as a bartender. It’s a decent job for a college student. Good hours. Good money.
I let myself inside and head to the bar. It’s just past dinnertime so the place is packed and I have to squeeze through the crowd just to reach the bar. When I get there, I lean in and call out to my coworker.
“Cody!”
He turns around and smiles at me. “What’s happening Jenna? Thought you had the night off.”
“I do. But I need to get some shifts covered this week so I thought I’d come in and sweet-talk my favorite bartender…” I bat my lashes, knowing full well Cody isn’t attracted to me at all. But he’s still a sucker for making money. And more bar shifts means more money.
He grins. “I’m listening…”
I whip out my schedule and show him all the days I’d need him to cover. He agrees like the superhero that he is and heads to the back to make it official in the schedule log.
I wait at the counter, thinking about how long my drive to New Orleans will take. Probably at least twenty hours. Ugh. Pixie was right. It really isn’t going to be any fun.
I glance around the crowd and catch a set of hazel-gray eyes shrouded by tousled black hair in the corner. My body immediately goes on alert.
Jack.
It’s not surprising he’s here. He comes to the bar all the time, but usually he’s with his friends and in a good mood. Right now, though, he’s talking on the phone and seems very upset. His gray eyes are narrow slits and his jaw is clenched. But I’m not going to lie. Angry is a good look on him.