Chapter 3 Emily
The drive home is silent except for the hum of the engine. My knuckles are white on the steering whee , trying to make sense of what just happened.
I should’ve seen this coming when he went quiet over the last few weeks, but, I just assumed he was busy, partying up a storm as usual.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Mom says from the passenger seat, breaking the silence.
I glance at her. “A sign of what?”
“That the wedding was a bad idea to begin with,” she says, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know how we would have explained this to your father. Selling off half his company...”
I scoff, shaking my head. “What will he say if he wakes up to no company at all?” My words are sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it. I’m furious.
Damn Daniel.
Damn everything.
I bite down on my lip, trying to focus on the road ahead, but all I can think about is what this means for Riviera.
The problems we face. The endless problems. There’s always something—the leaking pipes, the outdated infrastructure, the angry guests. Every day, it’s another disaster waiting to happen, and now, without this wedding and the capital it would have brought in, what am I going to do?
I slam my palm on the steering wheel, my frustration bubbling over. “This was supposed to be the perfect solution. An injection of capital would’ve meant renovations, finally fixing all the damn issues. We could’ve launched an aggressive marketing plan, drawn in more clients, and filled those rooms. Now, it's all gone! And I’ll just have to watch it all go downhill.”
My mother’s gaze pierces me, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. The pressure is too much, the disappointment too sharp. For a moment, neither of us speaks, the tension settling like a heavy fog between us. It wasn’t fair to take it out on my mother. I was losing control and I knew it, the feeling settling over me like a huge weight. I needed to get it off my chest. I needed to talk out loud and unload what I could. But, who else would even listen?
We pull up to the house, and I put the car in park, but I don’t turn to face her. Instead, I stare straight ahead, my mind already racing through contingency plans, none of which seem feasible.
“You’ve done everything you could, Emily,” she says softly, reaching out to touch my hand. “No one could have asked more of you, including your father.”
I turn to her and smile. “We’ll think of something else.” Empty words. I have no plan B or C. Or D for that matter.
As she disappears inside, I lean back against the seat and close my eyes. What am I supposed to do now?
***
I stand in the middle of the Riviera Army Base hotel, watching the repairs going on around me. The place is a mess. No matter how much patchwork we do, it’s not enough. This hotel needs more than a few fixes. It needs a full renovation and that takes money we don’t have.
I walk past a section of piping they’ve torn open, shaking my head. The water damage stretches farther than I thought. I swallow the frustration bubbling in my chest, but it’s a losing battle.
Every time I look at these walls, I get angry all over again. At the state of the hotel. At the never-ending problems. At Daniel.
Daniel and his damn cowardice. We were six weeks away from a solution. Six weeks from pulling Riviera out of the quicksand it was sinking into. And he couldn’t even tell me to my face. Instead, he sent his brother.
As I try to focus on the contractors, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see a new number flashing across the screen. Probably more bad news. Don’t they say that when it rains, it pours?
I hit answer, already dreading the call.
“Emily Young. ”
“Emily, it’s Andrew Bennett.”
I freeze for a second, caught off guard. Andrew. Of course. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting to deal with the Bennetts after Daniel bailed, but I wasn’t expecting it this early, and certainly not Andrew. We barely knew each other.
“I need to meet with you. It’s important,” he says, not even bothering with a greeting. His tone is blunt, curt.
I glance around at the chaos surrounding me—contractors, broken pipes, the never-ending list of problems at this hotel. The last thing I need right now is another Bennett to deal with. Still, I can’t exactly ignore him.
“Meet with me? About what?”
“Preferably in private.”
His words are clipped, professional. But the demand annoys me. “Alright, how about my apartment? Six o’clock?”
“Works for me.” Before I can respond, he hangs up.
I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it like it just insulted me. Great. No pleasantries, no explanation. Andrew could borrow some charm from his brother. At least Daniel knew how to talk to people, even if he was a spineless coward. Andrew’s all business. Cold, efficient.
I text him my address, without expecting a response back.
I’m surprised when he texts back, Thank you . Not such an asshole after all.
I pocket the phone and turn back to the mess in front of me. My anger, which had been simmering beneath the surface, flares again. Andrew probably wanted to explain his brother’s actions. Maybe even apologize.
What good will that do me? Damn Daniel. This is probably the hundredth time I’ve cursed Daniel since last night.
The coward couldn’t explain why he was bailing on a wedding that was more than just a union. It was the key to saving Riviera. No explanation would be sufficient anyway. How could they tell me there was a good enough excuse to ruin my hopes? To ruin dad’s legacy?
Now I’m left picking up the pieces; being civil enough to talk to his older brother, and processing whether there was any other option, anything at all, that we could do for one last effort to save Riviera.
I spend the rest of the afternoon at the Army Base Riviera and finally leave in time to get home and take a shower before Andrew arrives. As I wash off the grime of the day, I remember Daniel mentioning that his brother had served on a military tour.
Soldiers are sticklers for time, and the last thing I want is for him to show up and catch me fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a towel.
I dress quickly, choosing something simple but presentable—a cream blouse and jeans. As I towel-dry my hair, nervousness takes root in the pit of my stomach.
At exactly six o’clock, the buzzer rings. Of course, Andrew would be punctual. I let him up, thankful I’d had the foresight to warn the doorman I was expecting a guest.
I stand by the door for a moment, taking a breath, trying to push down the tension swirling in me.
A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I open it to find him standing there, as serious as ever. Andrew steps inside, his eyes sweeping the room in that calculated way of his, like he’s taking in every detail and filing it away.
“Andrew,” I say, trying for casual as I lead him toward the living room. The tension between us is palpable, thickening with every step. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He sits on the couch, looking taller, stronger somehow. For the first time I notice the way his body moves, with a calculated sort of grace. It reminds me of a wild cat on the prowl, ready to pounce at any moment. He is well defined, his shirt barely hiding the expanse of his tones chest, muscled thighs barely poured into his jeans. I purse my lips, realizing what I’m doing and fake a cough to cover up my embarrassment.
“Just water,” he replies curtly .
I’m shaken by my ogling. The thought of pouring ice cold water over my body sounds like a good idea all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, I carry the two bottles back to the living room.
I hand one to Andrew as I sit down across from him on the couch. He takes the water, his expression unreadable.
There’s a long pause, and I can feel him studying me, those blue eyes too sharp, too focused. Finally, he breaks the silence.
“I want to apologize for what my brother did.”
I exhale sharply, irritated. I was right. He wanted to meet to apologize, something he could have done over the phone. “You don’t need to apologize on Daniel’s behalf. He’s a grown man and can apologize himself.”
Andrew doesn’t flinch. “That’s not why I came.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, caught off guard.
“I have a feeling that you, unlike Daniel, understand how important that marriage would have been to both our family businesses.”
I stare at him for a moment, processing his words. “Go on.”
Andrew’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes lock on mine. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, his voice calm, but firm. “We can go ahead with the wedding, if you’d allow me to take Daniel’s place. Let’s get married, Emily.”
I blink, thrown back by the bluntness of his statement. For a second, I think I misheard him. Has he lost his mind? Before I can even form a response, Andrew continues.
“We’ll achieve what our families need, what we both need. One year, and then we can go our separate ways.”
I set my bottle down, staring at him. I want to laugh but his expression is solemn. He’s actually serious. “That’s a ridiculous proposal.”
“Why?” he asks. Then he tilts his head slightly, calculating, processing. The image of the wild cat enters my mind again and I have to internally refocus when he adds, “Unless you actually loved my brother?”
That’s personal territory and none of his business. Rather than tell him so, I dodge it. “What would people think? Me, jumping from one brother to the other?”
Andrew leans back slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Which people? Only the two families were aware of the arrangement in the first place.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. He’s right, technically. Outside of our families, no one knew about the business deal wrapped up in this so-called marriage. But, still, there’s something deeply unsettling about this entire proposition.
Andrew stands, towering over me for a moment as he straightens his jacket. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Think about it.” His tone is calm, composed, as if he’s just proposed a simple business transaction.
Then, without waiting for a response, he turns and heads for the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut as he leaves echoes through the quiet apartment.
I sit there, frozen. The idea is preposterous, but, as much as I want to dismiss it, I can’t. The stakes are too high.
My mind flashes back to the crumbling walls of the Riviera Army Base hotel. The constant repairs. The never-ending problems. A beacon of hope started shining in her mind once again. Renovations, marketing, stabilizing the company—all of it could be within reach. And all I need to do is say yes to Andrew.
I don’t know him. Not really. Even though I didn’t love Daniel, I knew him. We went to school together. There was history, familiarity. Andrew, on the other hand, is a mystery—cold, calculated, and now offering marriage like it’s just another deal to close.
I pick up the bottle of water and take a sip, trying to clear my head. What kind of person makes a proposal like that? More importantly, what kind of person actually considers it?