The Fear of Letting Go Read online

  “Not worth talking about,” I say.

  “I'm telling you, no girl could possibly compare to Piper Hendricks,” my mother says. “You just won't believe how that little girl has grown into the most beautiful young woman. I was just talking to her mother last week and she was telling me all about Piper's work with the animals down at the shelter. She's in school to be a Veterinarian, you know. Smart and beautiful.”

  I try not to groan. Under the table, Penny pats my hand. She understands better than anyone else the torture that comes from our mother's match-making. And it's only gotten worse for me since Penny and Mason ran off together last fall. It's as if our mother has realized I am her last hope of a respectable marriage, and she's going to find the perfect girl for me, or die trying.

  “I'm sure she's lovely, Mom,” I say. I don't want to get into another argument about it now. Let her try to hook me up with whoever she wants, but for now, I am done going out with girls who match my mother's idea of perfect. They always turn out to be incredibly boring and predictable.

  “She is. But of course, you'll get to see for yourself soon enough.”

  I narrow my eyes at her as Flora pours me a glass of juice and sets a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me. “Thank you, Flora,” I say. “What do you mean I'll see for myself?”

  My mother wiggles in her seat, as if she's been dying to share this news with me. “We've just booked a family vacation to Paris for this summer,” she says. “One month in the most beautiful hotel in the city. It's going to be amazing.”

  “Wait, when is this?” Penny asks. She puts her hand protectively on her pregnant belly and exchanges a look with Mason.

  Mom swallows and raises both eyebrows. “End of July, sweetheart,” she says. “And I don't want to hear any excuses from you about not wanting to travel with a baby. I did it all the time when you and Preston were babies. It will be good for you to get out of the house. New mothers are in danger of falling into depression, sitting around in their houses for months after their babies are born, not living their normal lives.”

  “We're not going to Paris with a three-month-old baby,” Penny says.

  “Don't you worry about it for one second. I've already made arrangements for a nanny to come with us. She'll take care of everything, I promise. All you have to do is get on the plane. You can spend the whole time in the hotel suite, if you want to.”

  Penny glances at me. The story of our lives could be told in meaningful glances exchanged around our parents. We learned early how to read each other's thoughts with nothing more than a simple raised eyebrow.

  “Let's not worry about it now,” I say, knowing that if I don't put an end to this conversation soon, Penny and Mason will be out the door before I can say Paris three times fast. “I'm sure it'll work itself out.”

  Which is code for, there's no way in hell Penny is going to Paris. I don't particularly want to go either, truth be told. Being in a foreign country with my parents for a full month of my summer sounds like hell.

  “Well, I only mentioned it because the Hendricks' are coming with us,” Mom says, beaming. Her full attention is back on me. “You have to remember Piper, right? She and her parents visited several times when you were little. They live over in Houston. Her father's the heart surgeon?”

  It's honestly not ringing a bell, but now the whole purpose behind a trip to Paris is incredibly clear to me. Could my mother be any more transparent? She and Mrs. Hendricks probably spent a few hours on the phone planning the future wedding of their two remarkable children. They probably already have all kinds of romantic dates set up for Piper and me in Paris this summer. I envision trips to the Eiffel Tower, where our parents mysteriously get caught in traffic and can't make it, leaving Piper and me alone at the top, destined to fall in love.

  I suddenly feel so exhausted I can hardly keep my eyes open.

  Luckily, Dad arrives at that moment, and conversation turns to his work, and everything that's been going on this past week in the stock market. Of course, even work talk has been a source of tension at our brunches lately. Last year, Mason's father—my father's former CFO—was arrested for embezzling millions of dollars from the Wright Corporation. A lot of my father's time these past few months has been devoted to cleaning up messes Mr. Trent left behind. But with Mason now a part of our family, and he and Penny expecting a baby in a month, it's best for Dad to keep his complaints to himself.

  I'm relieved when everyone has finished eating and my parents excuse themselves to go play a round of golf at the club.

  “The weather is so beautiful this time of year,” my mother says. “Don't you just love spring in Georgia?”

  I stand and kiss her again on the cheek. “Have a good time,” I say.

  “Sure you don't want to come with us?” Dad asks, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “The Johnson's will be out on the course today. I'd love for you to make some connections with them before the school year's out.”

  Dad is always thinking about making connections. I wonder if he ever does anything just for pleasure, or if business is the only thing on his mind twenty-four-seven?

  “Maybe some other time,” I say.

  “Okay, but it's never too early to start making your presence known at some of these business social events,” he says. “Won't be long before you're filling my shoes out there.”

  I nod and hold my tongue. Lately, this is another thing my father never fails to remind me of when we're together. I still have a full year of undergrad left, but he's already grooming me for taking over the company.

  When they're gone, Penny pats the chair next to her again. “Sit down, if you have a few minutes to talk,” she says. “I feel like I hardly see you anymore.”

  “I know, I'm sorry,” I say. “Between school and working at the office a couple of days a week, now, I feel like I don't have enough time to just goof off and have fun.”

  I pull the metal chair out and turn it to face the pool.

  “Want something to drink?” Mason asks. “I feel like I need a vodka after that conversation.”

  I laugh as he gets up and heads to the bar in the living room. “No, thanks. I had more than enough last night,” I say. I turn my attention to my sister. “How are you feeling these days?”

  “Tired,” she says. “I can't sleep. It's hard to find a position that's comfortable these days, and I feel like I'm up every hour to pee.”

  I smile as she rubs her belly. “You look radiant,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “So, last night's date was a dud?”

  “Same as always,” I say. Mason comes back to the table with a vodka and orange juice for himself and an ice water for Penny. “I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm having the same damned conversations on every date.”

  Penny sighs. “What was it last night? Wanting to go sailing on the yacht? Build a house together on the beach and raise three-point-five children together?”

  “Private jet to Aruba,” I say. “About an hour into the date, she casually suggests how beautiful it must be there this time of year and how we should be spontaneous and go for spring break, just the two of us.”

  Mason laughs. “Yeah, as if she hadn't planned on bringing that up,” he says.

  “Exactly.” It feels good to get some sympathy from Mason and Penny, at least. They've both been there, so they understand what it's like when all anyone cares about is what you can do for them. “Then Mom has to start in on this Piper chick. I'm only twenty-one and everyone's ready to see me settled, as if it's some kind of game to them.”

  “Pin the bride on the billionaire,” Penny says with a laugh.

  “It's not funny,” I say. “I'm so over it. You guys are the lucky ones, not caring what anyone else thinks or says. I would like to have just one relationship where it wasn't always all about money or the future. What's a guy gotta do to just have a little fun every once in a while?”

  “You could always take off on some grand adventure,” Mason says, ru
bbing Penny's back.

  “Mom and Dad might not recover from another one of us going awol for a month or two,” I say. “But it's tempting, let me tell you.”

  “What you need to do is stop dating the same kinds of girls,” Penny says. “You need to find someone more down-to-earth who doesn't give a shit about how much money you have. Someone you can just have fun with, no strings attached.”

  Jenna's face flashes in my mind. The way her body felt pressed up against mine on the dance floor last night makes me bite down on the inside of my lip.

  “Preston Wright, you dirty dog,” Penny says, slapping my leg. “You've already got someone in mind, don't you?”

  “I don't know what you mean,” I say.

  “Liar,” Mason says. “And I already know who it is. You should go for it, man. The way you two have been exchanging looks the past few months even has me hot and bothered.”

  Penny smacks him on the arm.

  “Hey, what's that for? Lord knows I'm not getting any from you these days, preggo.”

  “I do not need to hear about your sex life,” I say with a laugh.

  Penny sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. “Come on, no secrets,” she says to me. “Who is it?”

  My stomach tightens. I haven't ever said it out loud to anyone, but there's no denying the tension between us whenever we're around each other. After last night, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to get her to go out with me.

  “Jenna,” I say, almost embarrassed to admit my crush to my sister. “I know what you're going to say. She's too close of a friend and it'll just get complicated, but—”

  “I think she's perfect for you,” Penny says. “She's the only girl I can think of who won't put up with your shit, but who will definitely be up for a good time. And Jenna does not care one bit about your money, I can tell you that. She'd be the last person in the world to suggest a private jet to Aruba.”

  I try to hide my smile, but I happen to think Penny's right. Jenna is the perfect cure for every bad date I've been on since Bailey and I broke up. I just hope I can convince her to take a chance and go out with me.

  Chapter Five

  Jenna

  I step into the quad and lift my face to the sun. It's finally starting to warm up, and I love this time of year. The cherry blossoms all along the quad have just started to bloom and their cheery pink and white blossoms fill me with happiness.

  I can hardly believe there's only one more day of classes before spring break. Where has this year gone? I had planned to really slow down and enjoy my senior year, but it's passing by in the blink of an eye. In just a couple of short months, I'll be standing on this grass, graduating with honors.

  The thought almost makes me laugh. Who would have ever guessed Jenna Lewis would make it through college, much less with honors? I'm so proud of myself, but I'm also terrified about the future. My adviser keeps asking me to stop by her office so we can talk about job opportunities and fill out some applications, but the truth is, I'm dreading the whole process. I've already looked through most of the current openings in Fairhope and there're not a lot out there. I'm sure I could find something better if I widen my search, but I don't want to leave Fairhope.

  Over the past year, I've made some of the best friends of my life. The thought of leaving now and having to start all over makes me so sad. What if I never find friends like these again?

  But I certainly don't want to graduate and keep working at Brantley's as a waitress the rest of my life.

  I decide not to think about it this week. It's my last ever spring break, and I'm determined to enjoy myself.

  I wish Leigh Anne was going to be in town the whole week, but Monday, she and Knox are flying up to Boston for a couple of days to go through some of the final preparations for her testimony at trial. I'll be so glad for her when this whole thing is over. The trial starts the same week of our graduation here at Fairhope Coastal, but I promised her I would get to Boston as soon as I can after the ceremony is over. I want to be there when the jury reads their guilty verdict and puts that asshole away for a very long time.

  “Lost in thought?”

  Someone moves up behind me and tugs on one of my pigtails. I swing around and see Preston Wright standing there, a big grin on his face like we were ten-year-olds on the playground.

  “Hey.” I haven't seen him since we danced at Rob's last weekend, and my heart flutters at the sight of him. “You done with classes for the day?”

  “Just finished,” he says. “You?”

  “Same.”

  “I don't suppose you've given any extra thought to my invitation,” he says.

  I start walking toward the parking lot again, and he follows. “I already told you it wasn't really my kind of thing,” I say. “But have fun.”

  “We always do,” he says. “But it won't be as much fun without you there.”

  I don't have anything to say to that. I'm sure his family's yacht is gorgeous, but I can't picture myself on it.

  “What are you doing later this week?” he asks. He clears his throat, and I realize he's nervous. “I was thinking if you had a night off work, maybe we could hang out.”

  I stop walking and turn to him. We're standing underneath a beautiful cherry tree with white buds just starting to bloom. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  His mouth drops open slightly and he hesitates, as if trying to read me. I give him my best poker face.

  “It doesn't have to be a date, exactly,” he says. “Just two friends spending time together. It could be fun.”

  I bite back a smile, and start walking again. “Well, in that case, I'm afraid I don't have a lot of free time coming up this week.”

  “Wait,” he says, touching my shoulder. “What if I said it was a date? Would that change your answer?”

  “The answer is no, Preston,” I say. I reach my beat up old truck and unlock the door. “Just because we had one dance the other night does not mean I want to start going out with you.”

  He stares at my truck, frowning. “What happened to your car?”

  “It died a slow and painful death,” I say. “I found this on Craig's list for a steal last week, though.”

  “Is it safe?”

  I stare at my truck. It isn't much to look at, but it runs good. It took almost every dime I'd saved up to afford it, but that's another thing golden boy here would never understand. “Yes, it's safe,” I say. “Probably a lot safer than that sporty little black thing you drive sometimes.”

  I climb into the truck and shut the door. He's still standing out there, so I roll the window down. No automatic windows on this old thing, though, so it takes me a second to hand crank it. “Look, I think it's very sweet that you want to spend time with me, but I'm not the girl for you. Trust me on this one.”

  “I think I'm capable of deciding that for myself,” he says. He smiles, and he's so damned charming, I want to say yes. “Besides, I'm not asking you to elope or anything. Think about it, okay?”

  I nod, my heart beating a lot faster than I wish it was at the thought of spending time with him. “I'll see you around,” I say.

  I rev the engine and he backs away to stand on the sidewalk. It takes all my willpower not to jump out of the truck and tell him I've changed my mind, but I don't do relationships.

  And I have a sneaking suspicion that with a guy like Preston, one night would simply not be enough.

  Chapter Six

  Jenna

  I drag myself in to work at ten the next morning. The first order of business is starting up some coffee.

  “Late night?” my manager, Maria, asks, one eyebrow raised.

  “Not intentionally,” I grumble. I feel like I've been run over by a mack truck.

  I made it home at a decent hour last night, climbing straight into bed after I got home from work at midnight. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not get to sleep. Preston haunted me like the ghost of boyfriends-never-to-be-in-a-million-years. Every time I closed my eyes, I
imagined what it would be like to have him there in bed beside me, on top of me, behind me.

  Oh, God, make it stop.

  I'd eventually crawled out of bed, uncorked my bottle of tequila, and watched old reruns of Buffy.

  Now, Spike was more my kind of guy. A bad boy on the wrong side of death.

  I finally passed out somewhere in the vicinity of four a.m.

  Thank God, Brantley's isn't open for breakfast or I might have had to call in sick.

  I woke up at nine-thirty this morning with a tequila hangover and a crick in my neck. I barely had time to shower and throw my hair in pigtails before heading in. Part of me is a little surprised Maria hasn't told me to turn back around and get my ass together before coming back.

  Lord knows I cannot afford to lose this job.

  See? Preston is already dangerously close to screwing up my life and we haven't even kissed yet.

  Correction, will never kiss.

  And yet, as I pour my first cup of steaming hot coffee, I wonder if he was thinking of me, too, or if asking me out was just a bout of temporary insanity.

  “Mind if I grab a quick cigarette before I start my shift?” I ask.

  “Your shift's already started, hon, but go on ahead,” Maria says. “You still got forty minutes until we open.”

  “Thank you.”

  I load my coffee with sugar and cream and head out back to the picnic bench that has become like my second home. I know I really should stop smoking, but I can't seem to help it. When you work in a restaurant, taking a smoke break is just about the only break you're going to get. And I work a lot.

  “Good morning,” Leigh Anne sings as she walks up, looking pristine as usual.

  “Morning, dear,” I say. “Hey, I thought you were going shopping today with your mom?”

  “Maria saved me. Said she needed an extra hand,” she says. She slings her purse onto the table and climbs to sit next to me, our feet resting on the bench. “I was dreading spending the day with my mother. I was just trying to be nice, you know? Show that I'm making an effort.”