by Daria White
What kept his family in the town of Delta Heights? Lance’s mother. His fifty-nine-year-old mother who appreciated the finer things in life and loved planning her elegant black-tie galas in town every year. While her love proved true for the quaint town, she maintained her high society lifestyle. Lance found it odd, and even though he grew up with money, he didn’t see himself better than any other man working hard for his family.
Opening his laptop, Lance read the files on his latest deal for his client, Mr. Cooper. With the closing date approaching soon, he would move onto another deal since turnovers were common as a corporate lawyer. Lance’s office phone rang.
“You have a conference call with Mr. Wilkes in thirty minutes,” his receptionist, Giselle, informed him.
“I’ll be ready. Did his associates send over the drafts?”
“Yes, it’s in your inbox… now,” Giselle said.
He refreshed his email. “Thank you, Giselle.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Taylor. Is there anything else?”
“No, thank you.” He ended the call and scrutinized the deal in his lap. From security statements and merger agreements, he had to integrate them in their proper order. If he landed this contract with millionaire Wilkes, his father would have to promote him. He worked harder than any of the other associates in the building.
Was it worth it? Did he see himself making deals for the rest of his life? Lance shook his head. He needed to focus. He was where he needed to be. His life, great. He was climbing the corporate ladder, and soon he would have Andrea as his wife. What more could he ask for?
He checked the clock. He was due on the phone with Mr. Wilkes soon. Lance didn’t waste time, but opened his notes on his tablet. Mr. Wilkes picked up after the second ring, and after the men exchanged pleasantries, Lance executed the meeting.
“I’m impressed with your numbers,” Mr. Wilkes said. “You’ve confirmed with my secretary about your trip up here, right?”
“I’ll have my assistant work out the last details. I think you’re looking at a deal that won’t disappoint you, Mr. Wilkes.”
“I look forward to it.” He hung up.
Lance’s chest swelled. He was on his way to the top. He had another trip out of town before and after meeting Mr. Wilkes, but it excited him just the same. Everything he ever worked for was paying off. He had everything, and soon he would pledge his life to one of the most beautiful women in the world.
Lance rubbed at his chin. Taking off his reading glasses, he tapped them against his full lips. Getting married. After years of pledged bachelorhood, he was tying the knot. Did he make the right choice?
He blinked. Andrea Williams was a wonderful woman. Despite growing up in the spotlight, she maintained grace and dignity. Hollywood and glamor didn’t change her character. She displayed classiness. Poise. Plus, the woman was a boss in her career.
Lance grabbed his cell and sent her a quick text.
1:45 PM... Lance: Thinking of u
He chuckled at his own corniness, but he knew Andrea would appreciate his thoughtfulness. His phone pinged. He knew she was hours ahead of him because of the time zone difference, but she sent her reply.
1:50 PM... Andrea: Aww so sweet babe. Thinking of u too. Hope to talk soon
One month. Lance would tie the knot in one month. It would be different this time. He was sure of it. He made the right decision.
Lance checked the time once more. He was leaving soon and didn’t want to be late for his flight. It was a turnaround trip, and he wanted to be back in time for the reporter coming from The Wedding Report.
Chapter 3
“You don’t have to do this.” Cameron reminded her. “You can pass this story to someone else.”
“I’ll be fine.” Chantelle assured her. “I’m a professional.” She had been repeating that to herself ever since she arrived home to pack. Growing up in a town where everyone knew everyone brought solace. She hadn’t been home since Christmas, so she couldn’t wait to see her mother and brother.
After leaving town and graduating with a Bachelor of Art’s Degree in English and a Master’s degree in journalism, Chantelle settled in Chicago, Illinois. Despite the bumps in her burgeoning career, she’d proven herself as an exceptional writer at The Wedding Report.
She turned from her closet, with her peep-toed heels in her hand. A slight chill went down her spine. Voted most eligible bachelor three years in a row, Lance Taylor was tying the knot. Chantelle breathed.
“Chantelle?” Cameron interrupted her thoughts.
“What?” she answered.
“Can you handle this?”
Chantelle nodded. “Sure. I’ll do my job, and they will know my column around the world. You know what kind of publicity this is for Delta Heights? For me?”
Cameron frowned. “I don’t know about this.”
“You worry too much.”
Her friend shrugged. “I’m just looking out for you.”
Chantelle smiled. “I appreciate that, but I’ll be okay.”
Chantelle hadn’t seen Lance since their high school years. Next thing she knew, she was leaving for college out of state. The rest was too painful to remember.
How would she feel when she saw him again? Could she handle that he was marrying another woman? Had he changed? Lance had professed his love for Andrea on TV and radio interviews. That was a surprise since he was barely on social media.
The tenseness in her stomach increased. “Why do I feel so nervous?”
“Does he know you’re profiling him for the wedding?” Cameron asked.
“He will, when I see him. I’m still surprised the wedding is in our hometown.” Chantelle pointed out.
“You sure you don’t want—”
“I’ll be fine. I promise,” Chantelle said.
Cameron pointed at her. “You better let me know.”
Chantelle threw her head back with a laugh. “You know I will.” Her cell rang, and she saw her mother’s name. “It’s my mother.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Cameron let herself out.
“Hey Mom.” Chantelle paced the floor, ignoring the flips in her stomach.
“How are you? You’re not too busy, are you?” her mother asked.
“I’m doing okay. Just packing.”
“I can’t wait to see you! You’re staying with us, right? If you tell me you’re staying at the Bed and Breakfast—”
“I’m coming home, Mom. I wouldn’t do that to you. Plus, I get to eat your cooking.”
Her mother laughed. “I know that’s right. What’s your diet anyway, out there in the big city?”
“I’m vegan.”
“What!”
Chantelle laughed. “I’m kidding. I am exercising more, so I’ve changed some things in my diet.”
“Uh, huh?” Her mother didn’t sound convinced, but Chantelle loved rattling her. “How’s work going overall? Are you excited about the story?”
Chantelle swallowed. She walked back to her room and sat on her sleigh platform bed. “I am. It’s a little... unnerving.”
“You’re a talented writer. Does he know?”
Chantelle sighed. “No. I don’t know what to say to him. We haven’t talked in so long.”
“You’ve both grown into amazing adults. I’m sure you both can handle this,” her mother said.
“That’s not all though.”
“What is it?”
Chantelle rubbed her free hand down her pant leg. “I’ve worked so hard to get here. I just want my work taken seriously.”
“They will. You just wait and see.” Her mother always knew what to say to encourage her. “I have to go, sweetheart. I have a meatloaf in the oven that needs to come out.”
“Go ahead. Tell everyone I said hi.” She hung up and stared at the folded clothes on her bed. Delta Heights, Texas. Ready or not, she was going home.
***
“Pick out the invitations,” Lance’s mother advised him as she held two decorative pi
eces of paper with scripted writing on both of them.
Jet-lagged, all Lance wanted to do was sleep, but he sat with his legs stretched out on his couch. He would take a break on his honeymoon with Andrea, but for now he had deals to close. The last trip was to San Francisco.
Lance’s head gave in to the soft cushion of his couch, and the rest of his body relaxed. The day would end perfectly with his head hitting the pillow. Home. It deemed more important than choosing an invitation.
“Call Andrea,” he said. “She loves this stuff.”
His mother tilted her head towards him. The corners of her eyes crinkled. “I did, but it went straight to voicemail. Face it, dear, she’s busy working.”
“I don’t know. The one on the left.” Lance grabbed his briefcase and headed for his spiral staircase. His mother only had a key to his house for emergencies, but soon he would downsize his seven-bedroom house. He hoped Andrea would like his idea of her moving to Delta Heights with him. For now, he took advantage of the space from his parents. He’d been on his own since college, and he wanted to keep it that way until he married.
“I’ll call Andrea later.” His mother shook her head at him. “I hope you’re much more pleasant when the reporter gets here.”
Lance stopped in his tracks. “They’re not coming here tonight, are they?” He wasn’t in the mood to begin the interviews today.
“No, they’ll be here tomorrow at 9am sharp. Make sure you’re up, Mr. Night Owl,” his mother said, pointing a finger at him.
Lance descended the few steps he climbed and kissed his mother’s cheek. His six-two frame towered over her, but he was no match to argue with her. He chose his battles, and some things weren’t worth disputing over. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
She patted his cheek. “I love you.”
Letting herself out the front door, Lance was alone. He proceeded up the stairs. Entering his bedroom, he peeled off his shoes and headed to his full-sized bed. Plopping on the bed, he closed his drooping eyes. They would invade his privacy tomorrow. Profiling the wedding was Andrea’s idea, and his mother latched on to the opportunity to put the spotlight once again on the family.
Lance turned to his backside on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Then his cell rang on his nightstand and he groaned as he turned to see who was calling. It was his best friend, Grant Woods.
“You sound groggy,” Grant said. “You just got back into town?”
Lance sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah and I was trying to get some sleep.”
“This early? How about joining us for dinner tonight?”
Lance sat up in bed and rested his back against the headboard. He missed the dinner at the Woods’ house. They were rare at first when Chantelle moved away, not to mention the tension their breakup brought between him and Grant. He didn’t blame his friend for wanting to protect his sister, but he was glad they got past it and reconciled their friendship. Lance then resumed attending a few meals with his second family.
“Are you there?” Grant asked.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll come. What’s for dinner?”
“Not sure, but you know my mom. It’ll be good.”
“You have a wife that cooks. Remember?” He joked.
Grant continued. “I have a wife that’s talking about going on a diet together. I love her, but I have to draw the line somewhere. There’s nothing wrong with a chicken-fried steak now and then. I even go to the gym four times a week.”
Lance chuckled. “Then you need moral support tonight. We’ll eat the fried food and then work it off at the gym later.”
“See you then.”
A home-cooked meal at the Woods’ home. Perhaps that was what he needed. He’d been going non-stop with work, and now with wedding plans underway, he needed a break. Mrs. Woods’, now Mrs. Evans’ lasagna, pot roast, meatloaf, or even her garlic mashed potatoes always made his mouth water.
There were many times he’d sat next to... Chantelle. The girl who’d won his heart in high school. The girl voted “Most Beautiful” in school. She’d hated the title since she wanted to been seen as more. A writer. That was her dream.
Did she make it? He hoped so. He recalled reading the articles Chantelle would have him read when they were younger. She’d been so nervous to publish her work in their school paper, but he assured her she was a talented writer.
Lance cleared his throat. He needed to get ready. Perhaps he could ask her mother how she was doing at dinner tonight. Last thing he heard was Chantelle was living in Chicago and had a boyfriend. She had moved on. So had he.
Chapter 4
“Get in this house!” Chantelle’s mother motioned her over.
She hurried to her mother’s arms for one of the best hugs in the world. Chantelle didn’t rush it.
“I’ve missed you,” her mother said.
“I missed you.”
“You weren’t supposed to come until tomorrow.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Her mother hugged her again. “It doesn’t matter as long as you’re home. It’s been too long.”
“You saw me at Christmas.” Chantelle broke their embrace.
“I still say that’s too long.” She pushed her daughter’s hair back behind her shoulders. “You cut your hair?”
Chantelle flipped her hair to one side. It was still below her shoulders, but her dark brown hair didn’t cover her back as it used to. “You don’t like it?” She batted her eyelashes.
Her mother laughed. “You little jokester. I’ll… just have to get used to it. Come inside.” Her mother took her hand and directed her into the living room. “You must be hungry.”
Dropping her purse on the couch, she followed her mother to the kitchen. She heard the whir of the range hood fan over the stove, along with the radio playing in the background. It was rare for her mother not to listen to music when cooking. The genres ranged from Motown to country songs.
Sitting on the barstool at the counter, Chantelle rested her chin inside her palm. She eyed the ceramic cookie jar for a moment but denied the urge to sneak one before dinner. Her stomach growled, wanting to taste her mother’s spaghetti.
“I baked fresh cookies about an hour ago,” her mother said.
“I don’t want a cookie… at least not now.”
Her mother giggled. “How are you, sweetie?”
“Mom, we talked a few days ago.”
Her mother reached for her hands over the kitchen island. “It’s different now that you’re home.” For a moment, her mother’s gaze lowered. “Did you visit him yet?”
Chantelle swallowed. “No, I came straight here. I’ll visit before I leave. I promise.”
Three years. That’s how long it had been since her father had passed. A heart attack claimed his life at fifty-eight, and her heart broke when her mother called with the news. She returned home the next day. Chantelle had hugged her mother tight that mournful day and held her hand during the entire memorial service.
“Knock knock,” a baritone voice said.
Chantelle pushed the hurtful memories away to see her fraternal twin brother. By two minutes and five seconds, he was the oldest. Grant walked into the kitchen’s doorway. His eyes widened for a moment, but then he opened his arms long enough for her to jump into his embrace.
He kissed her cheek before setting her down to her feet. “Are you eating?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Her mother added.
“You’re early?” Grant’s jaw tensed.
“Yes.” Chantelle smoothed down her clothes. Was he not happy to see her? She parted her lips to say more, but then Grant’s wife trailed in behind him.
“Chantelle!” Elise shrieked.
Squealing along with her sister-in-law, Chantelle hugged her back.
“I love your hair!” Elise said, grinning from ear to ear. Her coal eyes sparkled.
“Not as much as I love your dress.” Chantelle replied with her hands on her hips. “You loo
k incredible.”
Elise posed for a second in her floral sundress before laughing aloud.
“Listen, sis.” Grant interrupted. “I need to—”
“It sounds like you guys are having a good time in here,” a familiar voice said.
Chantelle froze as the tenor voice washed over her. Their appointment was tomorrow. Why was he here now? The moment her eyes connected with his, he froze. Chantelle could have sworn the hairs on the back of her neck lifted.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said. “Hi… Lance.”
“Chantelle?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re… back.”
***
Lance had to be dreaming. Chantelle. Yet as he stared at her heart-shaped face and cocoa brown eyes, his knees weakened. He cleared his throat, denying the notion. He hadn’t seen her since that fateful night. Though he heard of her visiting in the past, she never stayed long enough for them to run into each other. He’d even been out of town during her father’s funeral. Graduation day played vividly in his mind.
“What are we going to do? Do you want to go through with this?” She had asked.
“I don’t know,” he had said.
She folded her arms. “You don’t know?” She didn’t look convinced.
“My parents are right. I don’t know how to handle this.” He reached for her, but she held her hand up to him.
“You know what, how about I decide for you? We’re done,” she had said. She stormed away to her compact car, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes.
“I didn’t know you would be here,” she said.
Blinking, he brought himself back to reality. “Your brother invited me.” His gaze narrowed at his friend.
“For the record, she is early,” Mrs. Evans said. “Let’s go to the living room. Elise? Chantelle, you can help me with setting the table.”
Dragging his feet to the living room, he plopped on the couch. Did he even want to stay?
“Sorry we caught you off guard.” Grant sat in the chair opposite him.
“You knew she was coming home?”
Grant nodded.