Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Sara
I’m on Taconic State Parkway, just about halfway between Abieville and New York City, when Bristol’s number pops up on my navigation screen.
“Happy birthday!” she shrieks the second I take her call. I’m surprised her voice doesn’t shatter my windows. “Sara! Are you there? Can you hear me?”
“I’m pretty sure they can hear you on the moon.” I chuckle to myself. “But thank you, friend.”
“What’s going on there?” she asks. “I tried calling you earlier, but I kept getting sent straight to your voicemail.”
“Yeah.” I nod, even though she can’t see me. “The signal back in Abieville definitely comes and goes.”
“Where are you now?”
“On my way to the gala.”
“Ahh, right. Of course you are. Is it at the Windsor Club this year?”
“It’s at the Windsor Club forever ,” I say on a chuckle. “Remember the time you came? ”
“Are you kidding?” she squawks. “A girl doesn’t forget that many black ties and red ballgowns in one room.”
“Well, it’s exactly like that, always, except the regular donors keep getting more gray hair.”
“Yeah, well, I’d seriously dye mine fully silver to get my hands on more of that fancy food and free champagne.” Bristol moans, like she’s tasting a dish from a chef with three Michelin stars. “Plus the live band. And that spectacular Christmas tree. The silent auction. I’ll never get over not winning that trip to Banff.”
A guffaw slips out of me. “You didn’t even place a bid.”
“Duh. I couldn’t afford to.” Bristol scoffs. “Back then I could barely swing ten raffle tickets. But the whole event was beyond magical.”
“It still is.” My sigh is part wistful and part resigned. “You should come again sometime.”
“Oooh, yes, please!” she gushes.
“Actually, I wish you could go with me tonight.” I pause for a moment. “Or even better, I wish you could go instead of me.”
“Awww, Sara.” She’s quiet for a stretch, probably processing the full meaning behind my statement. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of being in the spotlight, and I’ve never had to give a speech in front of a room full of rich people, or listen to your dad tell his miracle-baby story over and over, but I’ve gotta admit, I’d kill to celebrate my birthday at the Windsor Club even once.”
“You say that, but believe me. After experiencing twenty-eight Hathaway Galas, I think a simple at-home party might be even better.”
“Lies!” she cackles.
“Nope. I’m serious. Cake, ice cream, and balloons are kind of awesome.”
“Oh really?” I can practically hear the arch in her brow. “And how would you know anything about that, Ms. Hathaway?”
“Well, Ms. Kane.” I take a beat, a grin spreading across my face. “I really need to catch you up. ”
Over the next half hour, I tell her all about what happened since the last time we talked. When I get to the ice skating part, she sucks in a breath. “Sara! That’s insane! You could’ve died.”
“I know,” I murmur. The weight of that is still fresh in my heart. “But Three … he saved my life.”
I proceed to tell her about the rest of our night together—every sweet detail—and I end with a summary from this morning: the quick cleanup of blankets and pillows, and one last sweep of the house before Ryan Detweiler showed up.
“Did you get final approval?”
“We did,” I chirp, triumphant, as a burst of relief floods my body. The fact that I automatically used the word we isn’t lost on me either.
“Did you have to see that woman from Platinum Stays? Did she flirt with Three again?”
“To be fair, she never flirted in the first place,” I say. “And he didn’t either. I was just being jealous.”
“Wait. YOU?” Bristol’s tone shifts into exaggerated mocking. “But Sara Hathaway doesn’t care about men.”
“You’re right.” I swallow against the emotion thickening my throat. “I care about one man.”
“Whoa.” She tries to whistle, but it sounds more like a burst of high-pitched wind.
“I know. It’s big, right?”
“The biggest,” she says. “So what are you going to do about it, birthday girl?”
I glance at my phone to check the time remaining on my drive. “I’m going to tell my parents.”
“Everything?”
“Pretty much.” I shrug. “Well, I might leave out the details on the storage room kiss.”
“Yeah. Good call.”
“But they need to know I was in love with Three ten years ago, and that I never got over him. That he only broke my heart because he thought he was protecting me. I’m going to tell them he sacrificed what he wanted—me—because he knew how much they meant to me. And he didn’t want to interfere or risk what we had. He didn’t want to hurt me.”
“So … he ended up hurting you.”
I blow out a long breath. “Yes.”
“Hmm. I’m sensing a but in there.”
“Yes, Three hurt me,” I say. “But that was a long time ago. We’re different people now, in important ways that probably couldn’t have happened if we’d stayed together.”
“I hate to ask, but what if your parents still don’t approve of you being with Three?”
I stare out at the road, knowing that possibility grows closer with every mile. “They’ll just have to get over it,” I say. “I’m an adult now, and so are they. We all have to make our own choices. Follow our own paths. I can’t be in charge of my mom and dad’s happiness anymore.”
“Atta girl!” Bristol offers me a hoot of support. “When I told you to trust yourself, you really took that to heart, huh? And I’m really digging this new, independent Sara. Like, truly, madly, deeply. But I’m going to play devil’s advocate here for a minute, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What if your dad holds the position at Hathaway Cooke over your head?” She takes a beat. “If your parents were prepared to hit you with an ultimatum last time, couldn’t your dad threaten to tell the partners not to make you an associate now?”
“He could,” I say, “but this time I have the advantage.”
“How?” Bristol asks. “He’s still the managing partner. And you’ve put a whole other decade toward your goal. Aren’t you in a worse position?”
“I don’t think so.” My mind flashes back to all those summers I spent in Abieville, to the hope I felt, but also the uncertainty. “I know what I want in a way I didn’t before,” I say. “And it’s not just to blindly follow in my dad’s footsteps.” My heart swells with the truth of the words. “Ten years ago, I put my heart on the line for Three. But I didn’t know who I wanted to be yet. And I sure didn’t know what love was.”
“And now you do?” Bristol asks.
“Yes.” I smile to myself. “And even better, so does Three.”