15. Tessa
T essa hadn’t slept well after her conversation with Crista on the beach. Not that the bomb Crista had dropped was a shocker to her—there were days when she found it hard to believe that the Lawson family would really keep this home. They were, in fact, sitting on a goldmine.
If she had to decide between a gorgeous beach house or a couple of million dollars, Tessa had to honestly say she didn’t know what she’d do. Money was a necessary evil and the Summer House was a luxury.
Not to mention the fact that Tessa simply couldn’t count on living here even if they owned it. It was one thing to spend a summer at Vivien’s invitation, but even that would come to an end.
She needed enough time to establish her business and actually earn a steady income before she found something to rent. Could that be done by November, when the Lawsons would make the decision?
Hard to say. She wasn’t paying Lacey anything but a small percentage of what they’d make off this event, and yet she was out meeting with florists today.
As she stepped out of her room to get coffee and start the day, she heard someone in the laundry room…moaning?
“What’s going on in there?” she called before she reached the door, biting back a laugh. “’Cause it doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t good,” Vivien said, sticking her head out and holding something off-white. “I’m thinking I might have to say goodbye to these forever.”
“What…oh, these are those pretty pants you…yikes.” Tessa took a look at the weird wrinkles and some discoloration on the expensive trousers. “Yeah. Water stains?”
“I looked up Belgian linen and tried to follow the directions to dry them properly, but…” Vivien made a face. “I’m sad because I loved them.”
“I can see why.” Tessa turned the pant legs one way then the other. “Let me ask Akari, the bridal salon owner. She’s an expert with fine fabric. Can I take them to her at my next meeting?”
“Yes! Thank you!” Vivien beamed at her. “You know what you’re an expert in, Tessa?”
“I believe you once called me a ‘goodtime girl,’ Viv. So I’m going to guess I’m an expert in fun.”
“You are,” Vivien said on a laugh. “Also in problem-solving.”
Tessa inched back, not expecting that. “Huh. Thanks.”
“I talked to Crista this morning and she’s over the moon about your idea to give Nolie a practice test! Look how you’ve turned that situation around.”
“Which situation?” Tessa asked. “How wrong she is about my dad or Nolie’s learning challenges?”
“Both.”
“So you don’t think my dad had anything to do with your father going to prison?” Tessa asked.
Vivien considered that, searching Tessa’s face. “I don’t know. I don’t really want to think about it.”
“Well, I get that. But once Maggie’s in the picture…”
“She’s not going to be in the picture,” Vivien said confidently, leaning on the countertop over the washing machine. “For one thing, she’s announced that she will never step foot in this place, for reasons none of us know or understand. But when my mother makes a decision, she doesn’t change her mind. And for another, I’m hoping we don’t sell.”
That wasn’t quite as strong as “we’re not selling” but Tessa clung to the words even though she very much doubted they would come true.
“What?” Vivien asked, narrowing her eyes at Tessa. “What’s that look for?”
Tessa let out a sigh. “I think that when push comes to shove, you all might realize the power of that kind of money.”
“Power, shmower, Tess,” Vivien said lightly. “I love it here. There’s a ton of work for me if I can get it, and I would love to live here. And you?—”
“Cannot be the world’s most fun squatter forever.”
Vivien grabbed her shoulders. “You’re not squatting.”
“I ain’t payin’ rent, honey.”
Vivien flicked her hand. “We’ll figure something out. You’ve given my daughter—who was lost in her career search—a job she loves. She practically danced out of here this morning to go see the florist, so happy you’ve trusted her with that meeting.”
“I’d trust her with anything,” Tessa said, and meant it. “I adore that girl and plan to steal her from you and make her mine.”
Vivien smiled at their ongoing joke. “I’m serious, Tess. You’ve also given Nolie a real chance of getting into third grade and that will change Crista’s life.”
Tessa managed a shrug.
“And now you’re saving my Belgian linen pants!” Vivien exclaimed. “The rent is paid, my friend.”
Laughing, she gave Vivien a hug, loving her for the sentiment. It didn’t change the fact that Tessa was freeloading. And that was fine for a summer, but beyond that?
“Tessa!” Nolie came blasting through the hall, her dark eyes lit up. “It’s Flyer Day!”
“What’s that?” Vivien asked, smiling at the child.
“The day we make Flyers, Aunt Vivien,” she said with a touch of exasperation. Like, who didn’t know what Flyer Day was?
Tessa laughed. “The fashion show is open to the public, though I don’t expect a stampede on the beach. Still, we’re doing old-school flyers to take to any wedding-related businesses, and the hotels that host bachelorette parties and such. Nolie’s helping me make them. And,” she added, remembering her promise to Crista, “we’re working on an event layout, which will be lots of pictures and numbers.”
Nolie gave a shadow of a grimace at the word “numbers” but it was gone in an instant, and so was she.
“I’ll be in our office, Tessa!”
“Just need my coffee, Figsworth!” She turned to Vivien. “The office is?—”
“The dining room table, I know.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” Vivien said, then leaned in. “We’re not showing the place.”
Yet, Tessa thought as she shared a smile with Vivien.
“Tessa! I’m ready to work!”
“You better go, boss.” Vivien gave her a nudge. “Or your Junior Joy Coordinator will fire you.”
Laughing at that, Tessa headed toward the dining room “office” by way of the coffee pot.
They’d likely come to their senses soon, and Tessa…well, she needed a backup plan for life.
* * *
“Can we dance the letters, Tessa?” Nolie asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, watching the screen intently. “You say the letter and I dance it?”
“I know the game,” she said, moving the cursor to put the finishing touches on her PicMonkey-created flyer. “Let’s do…” She looked up at the top. “Wedding Fashion Show.”
“I can, I can!” Nolie let out an excited squeal and jumped into position in the middle of the living room.
Their little game had become a favorite of hers, a way to practice spelling that didn’t feel like work. Each letter had a movement—a kick for W, a twirl for E, jazz hands for D, and so on. It was active, engaging, and, most importantly, it worked.
Tessa finished the flyer, while Nolie called out each letter and did her dance, her face alight with joy. As Tessa saved the file, she looked over her laptop at the little girl, Vivien’s kind words echoing in her head.
Dad would be so pleased. He’d always played games like this.
“This is sooo much fun. I wish we could stay in Destin forever!” Nolie suddenly dropped onto the couch and swung her legs over the armrest. “I never want to go back to stupid school!”
Tessa’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. The words hit harder than she expected. She felt exactly like that seven-year-old child. Who—if she couldn’t do her quick number groups—would be gone in a day or two.
“All right,” she said, standing up. “Get the white board and my notebook, Figsworth. We have a new project.”
Nolie perked back up. “Oh, yes! What did you call it? The map?”
“An event map is extremely important, especially when we have to set up groups of chairs.” She went to the white board and drew two long parallel lines down the middle. “This is the boardwalk.”
“Our runway!”
“Yes,” Tessa said on a laugh, marveling at how bright the child was. “And these are where we are going to have to put chairs.”
She made six large circles, three on each side. “We should have about forty people in the VIP tents, so we need to mix them into groups. We could divide forty by six.”
“I can’t do that,” Nolie said softly, coming closer.
“No one can, Figsworth! But, we can figure out how many of these…” She drew a figure that looked like a lower-case H. “Pretend this is a chair.”
“It’s a little H.”
“Excellent. For our purposes, it’s a chair,” she said. “We need to put forty Hs in these six boxes, but we don’t want it evenly divided. Some should have five, six, or seven.”
Now, if she could get Nolie to help put these chairs in circles, they’d be on their way to learning…what was the word? Subitizing?
She handed the marker to Nolie. “You want to give it a shot?”
Nolie’s eyes widened. “Um, can I spell out letters some more?”
“But I need you to do this,” Tessa encouraged. “Just take your time.”
Nolie studied the board, chewing on her bottom lip. She started pointing to the tables, mumbling numbers under her breath.
“Let’s do it this way,” Tessa said, picking up another marker. “We could?—”
“No, no, no.”
“No, you don’t want to try?” Tessa guessed, not sure what she meant.
“No, I don’t want help,” Nolie said, a determined frown furrowing her baby-smooth brow. “I want to do it myself.”
Tessa smiled and put a hand on her shoulder, her whole body aching for how easy it was to love this child.
Yes, she thought with a wistful punch of sadness, she would have been a good mother. She might have been?—
“Your phone’s ringing,” Nolie said on a whisper as she stood in front of the board.
“Oh, I didn’t even hear it.” Tessa turned and picked up the vibrating device, gasping when she saw the name.
Gerald Varick.
Why the heck would her old boss from the Ritz-Carlton call her?
“I better take this call,” she said. “Don’t get frustrated, okay? If it’s too hard, just put them into even groups of seven. We’ll knock two out later.”
Nolie looked up, a shade of panic in her eyes at the fast math.
“Just relax,” Tessa said quickly. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
She didn’t want Gerry’s call to go to voicemail, so she hustled off with the phone, heading outside to the empty deck.
“Gerry Varick,” she said after accepting the call. “This is a surprise.”
“Tessa! So good to hear your voice.” At the familiar, smooth reply, Tessa lowered herself to the sofa, picturing the thinning hair and pudgy countenance of the Ritz’s Regional Director of Conference Services.
She’d reported directly to him the whole time she’d worked there, and they’d had a cordial, if not close, relationship.
It hurt when he’d fired her. He simply didn’t believe that she had nothing to do with the very unhappy guest…who happened to be dating the same man Tessa had been seeing. It had been ugly and frustrating, and Gerry’s lack of faith in her had hurt.
“Well, it’s a surprise to hear your voice,” she said, happy she didn’t need to sugarcoat the conversation.
“I know, I know,” he said. “I’m just glad that whole…business is behind us.”
Was it? She bit back the question and waited to find out why he was calling. No doubt he just needed to find a file or locate a client contact.
“Listen, Tessa, it turns out…we—well, I—owe you an apology. We got it wrong.”
Tessa blinked. “What?”
“You took the fall for something that someone else did.”
She snorted. “I know,” she said. “I told you that. Or tried to.”
He sighed noisily. “I’m ashamed to say that the employee responsible for the whole thing was, in fact, Jeanine Margolis.”
“The person who got my job,” she said dryly. “Shocker, Gerry.”
“It was a difficult situation all around.”
Difficult for who ? For the wealthy client she’d briefly dated who’d brought a different woman to his event? Then things at the resort went south for that woman—due to circumstances completely out of Tessa’s control.
That client had not only assumed Tessa was to blame, but he’d taken his complaint to an old college buddy, who was in the C-suite of the Ritz’s parent company.
Bottom line? Tessa was kicked to the curb and never given a chance to defend herself.
“I think it’s fair to say that Jeanine, uh, set you up to take the fall for her mistakes.”
Mistakes? Tessa almost snorted. Jeanine sabotaged the poor guest’s stay and made it look like Tessa had done the damage.
Damage that had left her essentially homeless and squatting at the unfinished Summer House before she was shamefully discovered by Vivien and Eli.
So, big picture, she was glad it happened. But the “how” still stung.
“So why are you calling, Gerry? I mean, I accept the apology, so?—”
“We shouldn’t have let you go,” Gerald continued. “You were one of our best. No one does a party like Tessa Wylie. And we’d like to fix that.”
Tessa’s grip on the phone tightened, completely ignoring the attempt at flattery. “Fix it… how?”
“Come back,” he said. “Your old position is yours, with full benefits, back pay, a raise, and new staff now that Jeanine is gone. You’d be back coordinating luxury events at all of our East Coast properties, doing what you do best.”
Tessa felt like she’d been doused in cold water. Or…a backup plan.
“I—” She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. “Gerry, I don’t know what to say.”
“Just think about it,” he said. “This is where you belong. Our events have prestige and run smoothly because your capable hands were on the project.”
Oh, please . Her capable hands were cut off at the knuckles the minute someone in power decided she should take the fall.
“This could offer you a lot of stability,” he said. “And you know I’m retiring in two years, so…”
So she could have his job?
She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, she looked right out at the horizon, the snow-white sands, and the jade and turquoise water that shimmered with…magic. Not stability and not a future. Just…magic.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “I have a lot going on right now.”
“Of course. Take your time. Talk soon, Tessa.”
“Sure.”
She hung up and stared at her phone, then back out to that beautiful vista. It would hurt to give it up.
“Tessa! Look! Look what I did!”
It would hurt to give up Figsworth, too.
On a sigh, she pushed up and walked back into the house, bracing herself. She expected Nolie to have given up, wiped the board clean, and drawn stick flowers—her go-to response when the math got too…mathy.
She stopped dead in her tracks at the neat circles, the tiny Hs representing chairs, and—best of all—the numbers next to each circle—7, 6, 3, 8, 5, 6, and 5.
Which added up to…she had to use a few fingers but, it was indeed forty .
“That table is a little crowded,” Nolie said, pointing to the eight. “But I thought that’s where we’d sit with my mommy and daddy, right up front. And you and Lacey and Uncle Eli and Aunt Vivien, and Jonah. I made a list…here. It’s eight, but I’m small. And if that’s too many, I’ll sit on my daddy’s lap when I’m not dancing.”
Tessa blinked, everything blurring through tears. “I’d say…you understand the concept.”
Nolie smiled. “I just needed to think a little, but I did it.”
“You did it!” Tessa swooped in and scooped Nolie up, twirling her around while the little girl giggled. “And you nailed it!”
She set her down and looked again at the white board, pride swelling in her chest.
Nolie bounced on her toes. “Can I dance now?”
“Like you’re carried by the wind, Figsworth.”
Nolie pirouetted away and Tessa stared at the circles, momentarily forgetting about Gerry and his job offer, which, of course, she had to consider. But right now, these circles and numbers and that spinning top of a child were all that mattered.