Sam needed a fresh start, and Dylan was determined to honor the promise he’d made to his cousin to take care of the boy. Plus, Dylan wanted a chance to prove wrong all the people in town who’d believed he would never amount to anything. He somehow needed that recompense to demonstrate he could handle raising a surly, grief-stricken teenager. Niall had been at the top of his long list of detractors, but if death stole Dylan’s chance for revenge on the man himself, he could at least destroy the famed artist’s legacy.
He understood that his mixed desire to raise the boy in a small town but also disguise that more noble pursuit with his personal need for revenge made him ten kinds of a jerk, but it didn’t faze him.
He hadn’t expected to be so rattled by Carrie. The quiet and shadows had lent an intimacy to their conversation that made his blood run hot. She’d always been out of his league, and not just because of her standing in the community.
Carrie had one of the purest hearts he’d ever known. Just being close to her gave him the feeling of stretching out in a ray of sunshine on a cold winter day. She was everything light and warm, and he had no business wanting her.
Not anymore.
CHAPTER TWO
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Carrie dropped into a booth across from Avery and Meredith at Over Easy, Magnolia’s best breakfast diner.
“You need coffee,” Avery said immediately.
“Or a mimosa.” Meredith lifted a brow as she studied Carrie. “Or twelve.”
“Dylan’s back,” she explained. “I need coffee and a dozen mimosas.”
Avery’s blue eyes widened. “Dylan Scott, the developer who bought your art last month at the showing?”
Meredith nudged the sophisticated blonde. “I think in this situation, the pock-addled Dylan who broke our girl’s heart is a more apt description.”
Carrie clenched her hands at the thought of her body’s reaction to Dylan last night. “I highly doubt there’s one pockmark on his entire perfect body.” She drew in a slow breath and glanced around, embarrassment filling her cheeks with heat as she took in the curious stares of the other customers. “How loud was that?”
Meredith ran a hand through her chin-length bob, her pert nose scrunching like she’d smelled something funny. “I don’t think they heard you across the street, if that helps.”
“I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.”
“I used to wish that for you back in high school,” Meredith offered. Although Meredith was a townie like Carrie and only a year younger in school, neither had known they were sisters until their father’s death. But Meredith recently revealed that she’d discovered her mother’s affair with Niall when she was only five, shortly before her mom left town. She’d grown up with a single dad and two older brothers and had hated Carrie for the elevated status everyone had perceived her to enjoy.
Carrie hadn’t known anything but the life she’d had with her eccentric father and overprotective mother. She came to realize shamefully late what a farce their image as a happy family had been. Ever since her father’s death, people in town looked at her with a mix of pity and sympathy that made her skin crawl, although being with her sisters made her braver than she could be on her own.
Still, she didn’t like to draw attention to herself and kept her gaze on the polished tabletop as the waitress filled their coffee cups.
“Everything okay here, girls?” she asked.
“All good,” Avery assured her in a tone that said “mind your own business.” Would anyone actually heed a subtle warning in Magnolia when they could smell fresh gossip in the air? Carrie appreciated Avery for trying.
Avery had only come to Magnolia for the reading of their father’s will, although she’d ended up finding a home—and falling in love—once she got there.
“Maybe he’s home for the holidays,” Meredith suggested when the waitress walked away after taking their order of food and a round of mimosas.
“Christmas is five weeks away.” Carrie dumped a load of sugar and a generous amount of creamer into her coffee. “He told me he’s buying the buildings Bobby Hawthorne owns downtown.”
Avery and Meredith didn’t look much alike but offered twin expressions of disbelief.
“Why haven’t we heard about this?” Avery sipped her coffee. “Mal should have—”
“There’s some kind of confidentiality agreement as part of the deal.” Carrie shook her head. “I don’t understand the details, but he said he didn’t want us to derail it like we did when he wanted to buy Niall’s property.”
“Our property,” Avery clarified.
“Your property, actually.” Carrie had been devastated when she’d first learned that her father had willed his beloved art gallery and the adjacent buildings to the daughter he’d never actually met. It had felt like a slap in the face since Carrie had been the one to devote her life to his career. She’d been his assistant, as well as his daughter, tamping down her own artistic ambitions to fully cater to his.
She’d confused loyalty for love. In the end, her father had viewed her as little more than a poorly paid servant. In return she’d given up everything and been left with nothing to show for it.
“We’ve already gone through that,” Avery said. “It doesn’t matter what the will said. Decisions about the estate come from the three of us together.”
“I know,” Carrie agreed. “I’m tired. Ignore me.”
“I tried that most of my life.” Meredith chuckled when Carrie stuck out her tongue. “Look where it got me.”
Carrie gulped down a swig of coffee, needing the caffeine to work its magic. She’d tossed and turned most of the night after her confrontation with Dylan.
“How am I going to get rid of him?” she asked, her voice little more than a plaintive whine.
Avery reached out and covered Carrie’s hand with hers. “Is it really so bad that he’s here? It’s been ten years. Maybe you won’t see him much.”
“He’s here to take over the town,” she said without emotion, “and destroy whatever he thinks is involved with Dad’s legacy.”
Before either woman could reply, the waitress reappeared with another server. They placed plates of food and three champagne glasses on the table. By unspoken agreement, all three of them drank deeply from the mimosas when they were alone again.
“I don’t understand,” Avery said, shaking her head.
“He hated our father.”
“Your father,” her sisters replied in unison.
“Stop.” Carrie forked up a bite of scrambled egg. “We’re not going to have this argument again. What should I call him?” She pointed the utensil between Avery and Meredith. “Our Niall? The jerk who hurt each of our mothers?”
Meredith tapped a finger against her chin as if pondering the questions. “I prefer lowlife scumbag.”
A soft laugh escaped Carrie’s lips. “I still think ‘Dad’ sums it up.”
“Fine,” Avery breathed. “Let’s not argue about Niall. Tell us more about why Dylan Scott hates him.”
“Dad didn’t think Dylan was good enough for me.” Carrie placed her fork on the table. Although the classic breakfast of eggs, hash browns and bacon were her favorite and always cooked to perfection at Over Easy, the food held no appeal.
Her stomach churned as she thought about how her father had railed against Dylan once he’d found out about the relationship Carrie had kept secret for almost a year.
Meredith sniffed. “I can’t imagine Niall approving of any boy to date his precious girl.”
A few months ago that comment would have bothered Carrie. She’d chafed at her reputation as Niall Reed’s spoiled princess. Now she knew better than to believe her father had ever had her best interests at heart.
“You’re probably right, which had more to do with Dad not wanting to lose his most loyal subject than my worth.”
<
br /> “I’m sorry,” Meredith said, her gaze softening. “I know things weren’t as great for you growing up as they seemed from the outside.”
Carrie shrugged. “Dylan wanted to escape Magnolia so he made plans to work for his uncle in Boston. I applied to art school at Tufts and got accepted, but when Dad found out he went crazy.”
Avery helped herself to a bite of Carrie’s hash browns. “Of course he did. Tufts is an amazing school. Niall didn’t want you pursuing your art because it would have become clear to everyone that you were the true talent.”
“I don’t know about that.” Carrie bit down on the inside of her cheek. She’d loved art in high school but had given up her aspirations because her dad told her she’d never amount to anything and she’d just embarrass both him and herself. As much as she’d loved him and couldn’t turn her back on her loyalty to his memory, he’d been a selfish man—a narcissist in the truest sense of the word.
“Don’t make me give you a mantra,” Meredith told her. “Every morning you say to your reflection in the mirror, ‘I am beautiful, I am strong, I am enough.’”
Carrie ignored the way her heart seemed to skip a beat and laughed. “Do you think that would work for my self-esteem?”
Meredith inclined her head. “I think what you need is to adopt a pet. Animals can cure anything.”
Meredith ran an animal rescue agency on the property that had belonged to their father. Niall had left Last Acre ranch to Carrie in the will, another convoluted twist in his bizarre estate plan. Although she hadn’t known Niall was her biological father, Meredith had come to him a few years earlier when she’d needed a location for her rescue. He’d made her a great deal on renting the property, likely out of guilt—although it was hard to tell with Niall. More likely he’d gotten some sort of twisted satisfaction out of the arrangement.
Either way, until the estate made it through probate, which wasn’t due to be finalized for another several months, the three sisters were inexorably linked by their inheritance. At first, Carrie thought that might be the only connection they could ever share, but in the span of a few months they’d become an integral part of each other’s lives.
“The last thing I need is a pet,” Carrie muttered.
“You might not think a dog is the answer,” Avery told her. “But I’m proof that a dog can make everything better. My Spot is an angel.” Avery smiled, and Carrie half expected to be shown the latest snapshots of the Chihuahua mix Avery had adopted from the rescue. “She’s lost another pound and a half.”
“Enough about mantras and chunky pooches.” Meredith spread a generous amount of grape jelly on her toast. “You obviously didn’t go with Dylan. People break up after high school. That doesn’t explain his animosity toward Niall.” She lifted a brow. “Or you.”
“Dad bribed him to leave.”
Avery gasped. “I didn’t think that happened in real life.”
“Five thousand dollars.” Carrie picked up a strip of bacon then set it on the plate again.
Meredith held out a hand. “If you aren’t going to eat that...”
Carrie chuckled. “Go for it.” She was used to this hijacking of food from the youngest in their trio. Meredith couldn’t have been more than five foot three and a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she could eat a teenage boy under the table.
These small patterns in behavior gave Carrie a sense of comfort. No matter how overwhelming life became, she didn’t have to deal with it by herself any longer.
“I was furious when I found out,” she continued as Meredith chewed the crisp bacon. “Dad was indignant, his usual reaction when someone challenged him. He said that Dylan taking the money proved that he didn’t truly love me.” She forced herself to take another drink of coffee, needing the caffeine even though her stomach churned at the memory of her broken heart.
“As much as it pains me to admit it,” Avery said, “he had a point.”
“I told Dylan that when he told me he was leaving.” Resentment and pain swirled through Carrie. “He went off on Dad and how he’d manipulated me, and I was his puppet and some other not very flattering assessments I’d prefer not to revisit. Then he stormed off and that was the last I saw or heard from him until he walked into the gallery during the art show last month.”
“Now he’s back and wants vindication?” Meredith shook her head. “He’s the one who screwed up big time. What a jackass.”
“Ladies.” The three of them turned as Magnolia’s popular mayor, Malcolm Grimes, approached the booth.
Carrie moved toward the wall and patted the seat next to her. “We need to talk, Mal.”
The sixty-something African American man’s dark eyes widened as he slid in next to her. “That sounds serious.”
“Did you know about Bobby selling to Dylan Scott?” Avery demanded then drained her mimosa.
Carrie and Meredith followed suit as Malcolm visibly squirmed. “I might have heard something along those lines,” he admitted, sounding sheepish.
“Why?” Carrie reached out a hand and squeezed his arm. “Why would you let him have a foothold in the town that way? It won’t take long for him to become the most powerful man in Magnolia.”
“Power can be defined a lot of ways,” Mal answered, exhaling a long breath. “This town needs people willing to invest in it. We’ve already established that. As much as I’d like to wave my magic mayor wand and make everything better, I don’t have that ability.” He pointed toward Avery. “You were the one who initiated the plan to attract new resources and fresh ideas into the community.”
“Dylan can’t be part of it,” Carrie grumbled.
“Aw, honey.” Malcolm gently nudged her. “I know he was careless with your heart. It speaks poorly of him, or at least who he used to be. You deserve someone who will treat you like the queen you are. But I also know you wouldn’t sacrifice the opportunities Scott Development can offer Magnolia because of a decade-old grudge.”
After a moment she glanced from Mal toward her sisters. They gazed at her, eyes filled with matching sympathy.
“He wants to destroy my father’s legacy,” she said quietly, turning toward the mayor. “He admitted as much. Dylan Scott left this town and never looked back. You knew him before. Do you really believe he’s returning out of some rediscovered sense of loyalty?”
Malcolm’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure what I believe at this point. But I know his company has deep pockets and he’s committed money we need to make real change around here.”
“We should have been told,” Meredith said. “I don’t care how much money that guy has, if Carrie is convinced he has shady motives, I trust her. Look at how he’s starting—with lies and deceit.”
The mayor chuckled. “That might be a tad overdramatic.”
Meredith leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Did you just accuse me of being overdramatic?”
Carrie stifled a laugh as Malcolm slowly shook his head.
“Are you sure?” the feisty animal lover demanded. “Is it because I’m a woman? As you mentioned, the three women at this table were integral in developing a plan for this town’s revitalization. A plan that’s been a success so far.”
Meredith elbowed Avery, who immediately sat up straighter. “That’s right,” she chimed in. “I don’t think anyone needs reminding that tourism revenue was up almost thirty percent in recent months. We’ve already sold out vendor tags for the holiday craft fair, and arrangements for the festival are well under way.”
“I know.” Malcolm held up his hands, palms out. “Trust me when I assure you, I’m not looking to incite the wrath of the three furies.”
Meredith arched a brow. “I prefer goddesses, Mayor.”
“Goddesses,” Malcolm amended with a nod.
“You don’t want to mess with us,” Avery added. “If you upset Carrie by keeping pertinent informat
ion about town investors from her, you upset all three of us.”
Carrie blinked away tears as her two sisters stared down the older man. She understood Malcolm meant well and probably hadn’t thought much of omitting the information about Dylan’s deal. She also understood that she’d let people, especially her father, underestimate and manipulate her for years because she hadn’t believed she had anything to contribute beyond being his underpaid lackey.
“I can’t stop you from selling out to Dylan Scott,” she told the mayor. “But I won’t let him waltz in here and take over without a fight. Our father was a difficult man, but he did a lot of good for Magnolia. I plan not only to continue that but make it better. This is my home.”
“It’s mine, too,” Malcolm reminded her. “I want what’s best for the town.”
“Even if the investor with the deepest pockets isn’t it?” she asked.
Mal sighed. “We won’t allow one person to run roughshod over the rest of us again. Niall proved that doesn’t work.” He scooted out of the booth. “We’re on the same side, ladies. I promise. Scott Development has purchased five buildings downtown and is under contract for the old textile factory off the beach highway. Dylan has submitted an initial set of renovation plans to the town council.” He glanced to either side of him then leaned forward. “I’ll be sharing them at the next business owners’ association meeting on Thursday night. You’re welcome to stop by my office to review them before then.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said, even as her mind whirled. “I appreciate having you on our side.”
“I’m on Magnolia’s side,” Malcolm corrected then nabbed the leftover slice of bacon from her plate. “I recommend you make certain you can say the same before you run that boy out of town.”
The Merriest Magnolia Page 2