Chapter 15 Lacey
Lacey woke to her phone buzzing on the nightstand, the sound sharp and intrusive against the soft hush of early morning. For one disoriented second, she thought it might be Roman—some sweet, sleepy message about the drive, about coffee, about Jacksonville and the day they had planned.
Then she saw the name on the screen.
Tessa.
Her stomach dropped before she even answered. She was supposed to have today off.
She slid quietly out of bed, careful not to wake her mother—she really did need to change her living situation one way or the other—and padded across the room toward the balcony doors.
The sky beyond the glass was just beginning to lighten, that pale, silvery-blue moment before sunrise fully commits. Lacey stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her and wrapping her arms around herself as she answered.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Oh, thank God you’re awake.” Tessa’s voice sounded rushed, breathless, already wound tight. “I thought you might have left for your trip to Jacksonville.”
“Not for a while. Why?”
“Look, I know I gave you the day off, but…”
Lacey closed her eyes. “Tess—”
“I just can’t do the Tidewater Estate walkthrough. And the couple is only in town today.”
A wedding walkthrough? She and Roman were leaving at eleven for Jacksonville and a walkthrough of their own. He’d scheduled a meeting to see a gorgeous downtown penthouse apartment close to the stadium and the airport with a move-in date of August 1st. It wouldn’t last if they didn’t decide today.
“But I—”
“I know, I know, I promised you two days, and I will totally make it up to you, Lace. But I cannot leave this…child.”
Lacey blinked. “The one you’re babysitting for Dusty’s client?”
“Yes, and she’s…” Tessa let out a sigh unlike any Lacey had ever heard from her. “It’s a long and private story, as you know. But we—I, actually—had a breakthrough last night and I think it would be…no, no, I know it would be a bad time for me to leave her.”
Lacey leaned against the railing, the morning Gulf view forgotten as disappointment and frustration clawed all over her. The irony was she’d wanted desperately to do the Tidewater Estate walkthrough with Tessa for the experience.
If they got that job, it could open up a whole motherlode of wedding planning projects, a business they knew could be their bread and butter. But Roman had worked this schedule out to the minute.
“I was going to get your signed football while I was there,” Lacey said, knowing it sounded lame, but longing for Tessa to change her mind.
“I know, but Seamus would be happy with a football at Walmart that Roman autographed. This wedding walk-through is important, too, and a great opportunity for you.”
Lacey squeezed her eyes as worlds collided, sensing this wouldn’t be the first or last time if she tried to “do both” the way she’d hoped to.
She knew it would be difficult to navigate working for Tessa from Jacksonville, even if it meant a lot of travel, but she didn’t want to give up either dream.
Okay, Lace, think.
“What time is the walkthrough?” she asked.
“At nine, so just over two hours.”
Oof. She’d need to get there, be back, and at Roman’s house by eleven. Maybe eleven-thirty.
“Lacey, I wouldn’t ask if this weren’t important,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I was up all night with her and she…” After a long pause, she whispered, “I can’t explain it all, but believe me, if I could go, I would.”
Lacey believed her. Tessa had been acting very differently—when Lacey even saw her—since the child came to stay with her. Out of love and respect, Lacey hadn’t asked any questions or breathed a word to anyone else to maintain Dusty’s patient’s privacy.
Thinking, she glanced back through the glass at the bedroom she shared with her mother, then out again at the water.
“I can do it, Tess,” she said quietly. “I’ll…juggle my schedule.”
“You are a dream employee,” Tessa said on a relieved laugh.
“Remember, Rachel Fairchild comes from old money—with the emphasis on money. They will spend a fortune on this wedding, and our commission and fee will be the biggest Tessa Wylie Events has had to date. Trust me, I’d love to handle this, but you’re totally up for the task. ”
Lacey nodded to herself, still trying to wrestle the timing. “No chance we can get them there earlier?”
“Tidewater won’t open the door before nine,” she said.
“That’s fine,” Lacey assured her. “I’ll do it. I don’t want to let you down.”
“You’ll slay this,” Tessa promised. “You just go out there and be the face of Tessa Wylie Events. You’re ready for this, Lacey. I know you are.”
She wanted this challenge—had longed for the chance to really take ownership of one major event without Tessa making the final call on every decision. And she had a raise, a promotion, and endless possibilities.
She also had love, an NFL-playing boyfriend, and the opportunity for a life with him in Jacksonville.
“I can do it,” she said, the words tumbling out with force and certainty. “I’ll see if I can push the trip with Roman back a few hours.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
“You’re sure?” Tessa asked.
“Yes,” Lacey said, forcing confidence into her voice. “I won’t let you down. You can count on me.”
“Oh, thank you,” Tessa breathed. “You’re a lifesaver. Just—wow them. Please. The bride knows every rich girl in the South, and this could lead to a ton of business.”
The call ended, and Lacey stayed there for a moment longer, phone pressed to her palm, the morning air cool against her skin.
She could do this. She’d call Roman and explain it to him, certain they could adjust the schedule a bit.
Her mother stirred when Lacey slipped back into the bedroom.
“Everything okay?” her mother murmured sleepily.
“I’ve got a venue walkthrough this morning,” Lacey said quietly as she dressed. “Tessa needs me to handle it. Alone.”
“Is this the big wedding at Tidewater? Tessa is so excited about that.”
At the ensuite door, Lacey nodded. “Huge wedding, huge budget, huge opportunity—for me, now.”
“Wonderful, honey.” Vivien sat up, more awake now. “Weren’t you going to Jacksonville with Roman today?”
“I am,” she said, longing to get inside the bathroom. Her mother knew about the trip—but not about the apartment. Lacey wanted to make a decision before announcing the news to her. “I’ll handle it. It’s all good.”
“Then I’ll make you coffee and let you get ready in peace.” Her mother climbed out of bed and for a moment, Lacey considered sharing her dilemma.
But she was twenty-five. Regardless of the fact that she was bunking with her mother, at some point, she had to make life decisions alone, right? Especially one of this magnitude.
She smiled. “Thanks, Mom. I do want to look sensational for this one.”
Almost two hours later, Lacey was certain she’d pulled off sensational—in cream silk pants and a pale blue shell and matching sweater—as she spotted the entrance of one of the most beautiful venues in the whole 30A and Panhandle area.
The Tidewater Estate was set far back from the road, the long drive winding beneath live oaks draped in Spanish moss, the world growing quieter with every curve.
The main house rose ahead like something out of a Southern novel—white brick, wide wraparound porches, tall columns standing proud against the morning sky.
Beyond it, the Gulf shimmered.
The place was big, but a walkthrough wouldn’t take more than an hour…right? She’d have some time to answer questions for the bride and groom, and zip back to Roman’s house by…she cringed.
Eleven-thirty. He said they had to leave by then to make the appointment, and they would.
She let out a breath, then checked her phone again anyway, as if time might suddenly jump forward without telling her. It hadn’t. She still had room. She just needed everything to move efficiently.
Kendra Sharpe, the venue event coordinator, met her near the front steps right on time, polished and composed in a navy sheath dress, hair swept back in a low, professional knot.
She had the cool, competent air of someone who had walked this property hundreds of times and never once worried about how long it took.
“Morning,” Kendra said warmly. “They should be here any minute.”
“Perfect,” Lacey replied, giving her best calm smile as they exchanged niceties about the property, the weather, the wedding…and time ticked.
Right before nine, a sleek black sedan pulled up the drive. Punctual—thank goodness.
Rachel Fairchild stepped out first, tall and graceful, her dress understated but unmistakably expensive—linen, maybe silk, something that moved beautifully when she walked.
Sebastian Crawford followed, equally composed, tailored slacks, pressed button-down, shoes that probably were handmade in Italy. They looked like people who belonged in places like this. People who were used to being impressed—and unimpressed.
People who didn’t rush anything.
Lacey straightened her shoulders as introductions were made, more endless pleasantries were exchanged, and finally they began walking, letting Kendra do her spiel.
From the start, the questions came quickly—and thoroughly.
Sebastian wanted to know about operations. Valet parking options. Guest arrival timing. Vendor access points. How many shuttle buses could fit on the drive at once?
Rachel, meanwhile, slowed at every turn, taking in the space. She asked about how guests would feel moving from ceremony to cocktail hour. Where the light would be at sunset. How the sound of the Gulf carried on still evenings.
All legitimate concerns for any six-figure event, Lacey reminded herself.
Kendra fielded most of the questions, with Lacey chiming in on wedding planning logistics, stressing their capability to keep things moving, anticipate problems, and know how to solve them.
Every few minutes, she surreptitiously checked her open tablet screen to see the time flying by.
They reached the gardens, and, whoa, things got slow.