Chapter 1
Lynne – Six years ago
“I can’t just walk away,” I say to my friend and colleague, Addison. My voice is a mix of confusion and fatigue.
“You sure as hell can,” she says adamantly while draining what’s left of the wine in her glass. As she refills, she gestures to mine with her brows raised in question. I wave her off, her comment settling in my mind as I stare into the Rosé I’m swirling around instead of drinking.
Can I walk away from all I’ve accomplished? All I’ve worked for?
After taking a healthy sip, Addison faces me. “Lynne, you’ve hustled your ass off for that man, and for what? Not one goddamned kudos, thank you, or acknowledgment that you’ve taken his firm to the next level. I mean, DuVall Accounting has been an exceptional firm for many years, but when you joined…” She makes the sound of an explosion while her hands spring out from the sides of her head. “And your mother has never been more in her element with her hosting parties for many of the elite in the city.”
Ah, yes, my mother. The woman more concerned with appearances than emotion. The woman who could never see a fault in her husband. My father. The man I revered until I learned my hero-worship was wasted. No one could idolize my father more than himself. Well, perhaps my mother. For the past six years I did indeed work my ass off for him in his accounting firm, wanting to make him proud, thinking I wanted to continue his legacy. But being his only child—especially a female at that—earned me no favors. Not that I wanted any. I wanted to prove myself and show him I could accomplish just as much if not more than any other person in his employ.
Well that got me diddly-squat. My presence had been merely tolerated by him, and if I were to really look back on those years, my work ethic had been abused by him. He took my knowledge and gusto, used it to his advantage, and more often than not took the accolades for the results.
So what had I really worked for? What had I really accomplished?
Nothing for myself.
I suppose I should have known all those years ago what I was walking into. I mean, I lived by their rules even as I tried to bend them. Had I ever been happy? Had my parents? Was wealth and status their idea of happiness?
“Lynne,” Addison nudges my arm. “Isn’t it about time you focused on being happy?”
I snort out a laugh.
“What? You don’t think you’re due some happiness?”
“No, it’s not that. I mean, yes, I’d like to find some damn happiness. I was just thinking about my parent’s own version of that.” I look up at my friend. “Why is it so hard for them to love me?” I suddenly close my eyes and shake my head, realizing how pathetic that must sound. I had more than most in life and never took for granted I lacked for nothing. Except for the love and pride of my mother and father.
I feel Addison’s hand gently touch my arm. “Lynnie—”
“Forget I said that.” I chug the rest of the wine and practically slam the glass down on the table. “You’re right,” I say, looking back to Addison. “I damn well deserve some fucking happiness.”
Her eyes widen as she sputters a laugh. “Yeah you do.” Cocking her head, she gets a gleam in her eye. “So what are you going to do about it?” Taking a long drink of her wine, she continues to assess me, obviously waiting for some profound announcement.
“I’m walking away.”
Her lips twitch as she tries not to smile. “Just like that?”
I lift my chin. “Just like that.” I nod. “After I brief Dennis on my clients and projects so he can adequately reassign them.” I then shrug and chuckle as Addison joins in with her own laughter.
Okay, so I’m more conscientious than I probably should be about leaving unfinished work. Even if my father isn’t deserving of those principles, his other employees are and I don’t want them taking any of his gruff. I’ve never had a bad comment to voice about my coworkers, having enjoyed my working relationships with everyone.
“Which you can easily do through an email, therefore negating your need to return to the office.”
“How—”
“Because I know you, Lynne. You never have to look through your files to remember what projects you’re working on or what their status is. You never forget a thing because your memory is brilliantly freaky.” She shrugs. “Or freakily brilliant.” Finishing her glass of wine, she smiles and nods to my bag. “And, you practically carry your life in that satchel so there’s nothing you need to retrieve from your little corner of DuVall and Associates, CPAs, PS, BS, blah, blah, blah.”
More laughter rings out and it feels really good to let go.
“So, tell me what you’re going to do first? And it better involve only a carry-on and zero closed-toe shoes.”
I chuckle, thinking about my dream travels I’ve shared with her. I’ve seen very little beyond New York City, given I’d been completely dedicated to my studies. After graduating early from high school with those pre-requisites in my pocket, I went right into college to earn double majors in Actuarial Science and Financial Law by the age of twenty-two. Then I completed a two-year internship before joining my father’s firm.
“Well,” I draw out as my mouth curls into a grin. “I just so happened to be looking at a travel blog I’ve gotten hooked on, and turns out it’s a pretty good time of year to go to New Zealand.”
She laughs. “Nearly any place is a good place to go this time of year if it means getting out of NYC winters.”
“Well, except maybe North Dakota or Antarctica.” I chuckle.
“And it’s a damn good thing you have no desire to travel to either.” Addy cocks her head, smiling at me. Very few people can get away with using that nickname for her, and I’m lucky to be among that group. “So, warm sun, pristine beaches. How long are you planning to stay in the land down under?”
“Well, technically, that’s Australia…”
“Which is practically right there.”
I laugh. “Which I’ll no doubt visit as well since it takes an entire flipping day to get to that side of the world.”
“So you better make it worth it, huh?”
“Absolutely. I’ve done pretty darned well for myself, building up my account, so I can afford some time off.”
“There’s a lot you’ve dreamt of seeing and a break sounds like just what you need. You have the time as well as the means.”
“You’re one to talk. What about you and Peter taking some time off? You’re way overdue in that department.”
“Eh,” she shrugs. “I’ve got a lot on my plate with work, and Hollis has been occupied with adjusting to having his niece living with him.”
I know very little about the situation with her business partner and don’t want to pry, knowing it isn’t my place to do so. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her evade my concern about her and her husband taking some time for themselves.
“It wouldn’t hurt to take at least a week just to get away. Fly to Hawaii, the Keys, or even San Diego for goodness sakes. It’s gotta be better than twenty degrees and ice-covered streets.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”
“Which means no, in your book.”
We both chuckle before I place my hand across her arm. “Thank you.” She tries to wave off the comment, but I start again. “Really, Addy, thanks for your friendship and now your encouragement. In only a few years, I feel as if we’ve made a life-long bond I’ll forever be grateful for. But what does it mean for your working relationship with my father?” I sit back, my hands already working nervously in my lap.
Addison and Hollis LaCroix are wealth fund managers who’ve worked in tandem with my father’s accounting firm for a handful of years.
“We’re not under contract to remain with him, but we’ll give the firm some time to prove themselves. See if they have the mettle once they’ve lost you.” She winks. “On the other hand, nothing says you can’t start your own business should you ever decide to return from paradise.”
“Yeah, right, like I wouldn’t return.”
“Hey, you never know. You could find some jolly good bloke and decide living in the outback is all right with you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I joke. “One, I have no desire to go to the outback. I’ll remain on the coastline, thank you very much. And two, while I do find their accent to be oh-so-sexy, I honestly can’t see myself living anyplace other than here.” When she looks at me with skepticism, I rush on. “No, really. I absolutely do want to travel and see other places, but I love New York City and I’ll always call it home.”
She clasps my hand and gives it a good squeeze. “Well good then. I won’t have to go trapesing around the world to spend time with my friend.”
I squeeze in return before releasing her hand.
“You are going to inform your parents, right?”
“Of course. I’m sure it won’t be a fun conversation but I should give them the courtesy of at least letting them know my plans. Should anything unusual happen.”
“Like what?”
“Like the plane crashes into the Pacific Ocean or—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lynnie!”
“Addy! Language.” I scold her as my face reddens and I scan the area around us.
We may be seated in a restaurant that’s barely occupied, but the quiet atmosphere lends to sound carrying well across the room.
“Oh, I don’t give a hoot. And your plane isn’t going to crash. And you aren’t going to get eaten by a shark. And you won’t get kidnapped by some—”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Now you’re making me have second thoughts. Sheesh.”
“Lynnie.” The constant use of her endearment softens my heart and I have no choice but to look up at her. She takes my hand once again. “You are going to pack your bag, phone your parents, and get your ass on the next flight outta here. Ya feel me?”
I smile. “I feel ya.” I throw my arms around her and she reciprocates, giving me a good hug. When we pull back, her smile rivals mine. “I’ll email you my plans and pertinent information. Then I’m going to leave specific instructions with my building attendant that you are the only one allowed entry into my apartment, should the need arise. Ya feel me?”
“I feel ya.”
Six months later I forget all about the scolding lecture from my mom, the indifference from my father, and the mishaps that had me rethinking everything! Less than forty-eight hours into my get-away, which included my belongings being lost, I was certain I should’ve aborted my grand plans of international travel.
Thanks to my OCD I had the most important articles on my person—ID, passport, and credit card.
Normally I was the type of person who over-packed, planning for any given variable, and over-thought every little detail, wondering if my final choice was the correct one.
Well I quickly got over all that.
I began to travel with only what I could carry in a backpack and buying what I needed along the way. I also began to rethink ever returning to New York City as I told Addy I would. Realistically, I knew I would. Eventually. But hells bells, was I having the time of my life!
I wasn’t weighed down with needless items. I wasn’t on any timeframe but my own. I didn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. And it was glorious!
After traveling Australia’s coastline from the Great Barrier Reef down to Sydney, then practically everywhere in New Zealand, I decided against back-tracking to Europe. Instead, I’m in Hawaii on the island of Oahu, ready to get strapped into a harness, about to go parasailing.
The day is blindingly sunny with temperatures well into the eighties and a swift wind racing across Mamala Bay, churning up waves. Surprisingly, not many have signed up for the activity today, which means only three others besides me are on the boat that is zipping across the choppy water.
A young couple who can’t keep their hands off one another is huddled on one side, while next to me sits an admittedly cute guy who is leaning back, soaking up as much sun as possible on his already tanned body.
With his eyes closed and mine covered with sunglasses, I take the liberty of discretely scanning him from head to toe. More than cute, he is downright handsome, with a lean face, perfectly shaped lips, and dark unruly hair being blown about. A crop of whiskers covers his jaw and sides as if he didn’t want to bother shaving for a few days. My fingers itch to see if it would feel rough, or had it grown beyond that and reached the tickly stage. His chest with a light dusting of that dark hair is on full display as the planes of well-formed pecs and abdominals testify to a more-than-decent workout routine. Muscled legs are stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. His sculpted arms are spread out along the rail behind us, and if I were to relax, my back would brush his hand.
But nervousness and anticipation keep me upright as I shift my gaze out over the water again, my hands clutching the edge of the bench while my legs bounce as I dance in my seat.
“Have you ever been parasailing?”
I jump at the voice coming from the man beside me. The deep, lazy drawl strokes over me and I instantly want to beg to hear more. I turn toward him and my gaze collides with the most alluring eyes I have ever seen. They’re a light, sea-foam green rimmed with black. Exotic. Mesmerizing. His mouth quirks as I continue to stare, unable to break away. When he lifts a brow, prodding me to answer, I barely find enough moisture in my mouth to get my lips and tongue moving.
“Uh, no, never.”
“You’ll be perfectly safe and come away with a memorable experience.”
“You’ve obviously been up before?”
“I have,” he states simply.
After another moment of staring at him, I turn away, unable to handle his intensity. But once again I jump at the sound of his voice, his breath nearly teasing my ear.
How the heck had he moved so swift and silent that I hadn’t even noticed?
“Relax,” he murmurs. “You’ve nothing to fear.”
I nearly moan at the caress of his words as the hairs on my body rise with excitement.
“I’m Guy, by the way.”
I turn and find myself within inches of him. “Addy.” I easily manage the lie.
Why did I lie? Damned if I know.
“A pleasure.” His smile is disarming. The look in his eyes, hypnotizing, as they remain locked on me. I feel a pull toward him I can’t even begin to explain.
And somehow I know after today I’ll never be the same.
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