Chapter 8
Eight
When Reese had told Sydney earlier this week that her dad was hell-bent on making this weekend happen, she hadn’t been lying, let alone exaggerating.
It was Thursday morning, and she’d already received at least a dozen texts from her father about the upcoming event.
What to bring. How to behave. Not to paint her brother in a bad light.
She’d laughed at the last one. As if Grant needed any help from her on that front.
Taking a drink of her almost empty coffee, she squinted at her laptop screen, scrutinizing the financials more closely now that she was into the inn’s most recent decade of operations.
The only thing she’d put her foot down about with her father was that she couldn’t head to Bingham on Friday, given that she was already going to be missing another weekend day at the inn so soon after coming on board.
She’d confirmed with him on Tuesday night, after running into Sydney in the lobby, that the two of them would arrive on Saturday. She’d also agreed to play nice with the Fitzpatrick family.
Messy. It was all so messy .
Reese hadn’t been avoiding Sydney. She was just stressed out.
Which is what she repeated to herself for the hundredth time.
The way Sydney had looked at her on Sunday hadn’t helped, given all her soft eyes and sweet smiles.
Coupled with the way Sydney had looked on Tuesday, filling out her tennis outfit as she practically bounded walking into the lobby… yeah, that was a memory that Reese wouldn’t soon forget.
Since Megan, she hadn’t even looked at another woman with appreciation or interest, and now she was going to spend the weekend in close confines with People Magazine’s Sexiest Female Athlete of the Year.
2022, in case anyone was wondering. And yes, Reese had googled the specific year for the sake of accuracy.
Groaning, she put her head in her hands.
Having Sydney by her side would make these wedding events better, not worse, she reminded herself.
Deep breaths , she encouraged herself as she visualized the mounting pile of complications, trying to allay her own fears.
The wedding would be fine, even if she had to be a bridesmaid.
Grant was a menace, and he more than deserved to be put through the ringer.
Her mom was being weird, but given how little she actually knew her mom, maybe she’d always been like this.
Finally, there was her dad. She’d started to give up any false ideations about what kind of man he really was.
When she’d been younger, she’d thought he was a titan of industry, with a portfolio of properties in the double digits that at the time was as significant in Reese’s mind as if he’d built the pyramids.
Now, she was spending time with him as a true adult, and she couldn’t say she was especially impressed.
Not with how he treated his wife, only acknowledging her mother when it benefitted him.
Not with how he ran his business, intent on ushering Grant in as the future of The Devereux Group because of genitalia instead of talent or effort.
And certainly not with how he kowtowed to the Fitzpatricks, willing to say or do whatever he needed to get their investment money.
Maybe if it had been something else he’d embellished, she’d have cared less. He could have pretended that he loved polo or that his passion was wildlife conservation. Those things wouldn’t have worked their way under her skin.
But no, he had to pretend to be dedicated to his family, and worse than that, he had to pretend that he was proud of Reese and the life she’d built. A life that he’d conveniently forgotten to mention had only been necessary because he’d made it clear she’d never be seen like Grant in his eyes.
Reese would have loved to one day take over The Devereux Group, but even by the end of high school, she knew that it was never going to be her future.
If her father had given even a whisper of suggestion in the opposite direction, she’d have gone to a school on the East Coast with a stellar hospitality and tourism management major, aligning all of her focus into becoming a worthy successor when he decided to retire.
Instead, she’d moved across the country to start on her own track, one that would ultimately put her at the hands of her own destiny—or so she’d thought.
She frowned as she lifted her cup to her lips, only to find it empty.
A knock on the doorframe pulled her attention to where Hallie stood, a fresh cup of coffee in hand.
“How did you know?” Reese asked, genuinely baffled as she accepted the cup, which was fixed just the way she liked it.
“You walk by the front desk to get coffee,” Hallie said, pointing down the short hallway that connected to the lobby. “You’ve been on a pretty consistent schedule this week. Once you hit fifteen minutes late, I took a chance.”
“I appreciate it.” She reminded herself that she really needed to find a way to get Hallie to stay on board.
“How are things going in here?” Hallie gestured toward the paperwork on the desk. “Finding any good skeletons in the cleaning closets?”
Reese shook her head. “Nothing that’s giving me heart palpitations or making me wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.”
For the most part, that was true. While there were a few more projects and areas of upkeep that had been left to languish than she’d expected, the inn turned a modest profit every year after its operating budget, which stayed relatively close to accurate, was spent.
There were a few bigger projects that she’d want to handle over time—improving the pool area, updating the guest rooms, and installing some more permanent outdoor event spaces—but overall, things could be a lot worse.
“Coastal erosion is a serious issue,” Hallie deadpanned. “In another two hundred or so years, this place could fall off the side of the cliff.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Reese shuffled her papers together, looking for something to keep her fidgeting fingers occupied.
“Knowledge is power.” Hallie lingered in the doorway.
“Did you want to chat about something?” Reese was starting to feel a little claustrophobic in the small office, even though Hallie’s diminutive frame only took up about half of the entrance.
She’d never been great with confrontation, unless it was with Grant. Megan had always been the person who dealt with employee issues.
Hallie cleared her throat, growing serious as she stretched to her full, albeit short, height. “I want to know what your intentions are with my best friend.”
Reese’s heart beat uncomfortably in her chest before she found words to drown out the blood rushing through her ears. “My intentions are to help Sydney get closure.”
It’s what Sydney, herself, had professed to want, so she figured it was a safe answer.
“And what’s in it for you?” Hallie asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against the doorframe, signaling a move into a more casual chat.
Reese remained on high alert.
“To torture my baby brother, for a multitude of reasons,” she answered honestly, thumbing across the stack of papers.
Hallie’s shoulders slumped, and she ran a hand through her hair. “Sydney would kill me if she knew I was talking to you about this, but I feel like I have some responsibility here.”
Reese lifted a quizzical brow. “Why are you responsible?”
As far as Reese had seen, Hallie was about the best friend a person could ask for.
“I let her come back to Stoneport, knowing that you’d bought the inn and that Grant was getting married. I put her directly in the Devereux family path because I missed my best friend and wanted to spend time with her.”
“I don’t think that makes you culpable in what, colloquially, I think many people would refer to as ‘a harebrained scheme.’” Reese made air quotes around the phrase, which earned a grin from Hallie. “That was all me and Sydney, and I don’t think anyone on the planet would put that on you.”
“Yeah, what’s that even about? You two were literally alone for five minutes,” Hallie said, more puzzled than anything. “Sydney is not what I’d call an impetuous person.”
Reese shrugged, her face scrunching up. “My brother brings out the worst in both of us?”
Hallie laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“You’re a good friend, Hallie. I’m grateful that Sydney is willing to go to these events with me and provide a buffer from my family. I hope that in return, like I already said, I can help her get some sort of closure.”
“What, she needs confirmation that Grant’s a complete asshole? I could have told her that.”
Reese held up her hands and didn’t allow her smile to become a laugh. Hallie really hit the nail on the head with that one.
“No argument here. But someone telling you something and you learning and accepting something for yourself are different. I think Sydney just wants to make it make sense.”
Hallie scowled. “I always thought she was too good for him.”
“Again, no argument,” Reese said, her interest piqued.
“Sydney didn’t go to high school with Grant and me the last two years. She was already training full-time. I’ve never liked him. And when I found out they were dating toward the end of her junior year of college, right when he was graduating, I about fell off my beanbag chair.”
Reese could see it clearly, Hallie sitting on a beanbag chair that took up the majority of her dorm room floor, sprawled out within its massiveness as she tried to hold on to her flip phone in her surprise.
“I was a little surprised myself,” she admitted, “but Sydney wasn’t successful or famous in the way she is now. I mostly just couldn’t figure out why someone like Grant, who seemed to be the epitome of a young bachelor, would enter into a serious relationship right after college.”
“He probably saw what we all saw, that Sydney was going to be a major contender in the world of tennis. Her star was on the rise, and he wanted to go along for that ride. She’s smart. Gorgeous. Talented. He could do far worse.”
Reese nodded in agreement. Hallie definitely wasn’t getting any argument from her there either.